#I need to see him cry and break down and pick himself back up and let people in type of way

[froggies-bloggies]

I want to put Jax in a box made of sharp edges and glass and shake him around and then make him lick his own wounds

[jinwoosungs]

02/03/25; 10:55pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

anonymous said: hii. Can i get awkward moments during sex with the boys? 🙈

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

warnings: slight voyeurism with rafayel’s.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the way sylus kept hitting that special part deep inside of you made you see stars, increasing your pleasure by a tenfold. the sounds of his cock steadily sliding in and out of your heat echoes throughout the room, and you felt so full of him-

a strange, tightening sensation travels throughout your abdomen, making you cry out when you felt an intense climax washing over you, your release wetting his cock profusely as sylus’s hips stutters in response.

his eyes go wide when he sees the copious amounts of your fluid traveling down the length of his cock, managing to drip down onto the bed as you felt the pinpricks of embarrassment coursing through your veins.

it takes sylus a few moments to gather his thoughts, realization dawning on him just mere seconds later when he asks with a low drawl, “did you just squirt on my cock?”

your stutters of mortification echoes through the room, earning a rich chuckle from sylus when he picks you up, gripping at your backside as he slots his cock even deeper into your now soaked heat, “by all means, there’s no need to be embarrassed, kitten. in fact, i’d very much like it if you did it over and over again throughout the night.”

zayne had you pinned against the hotel wall, fucking himself into your heat after finishing a lecture at his conference. the way you had constantly teased him with your skin tight dress while clinging to his arms was enough to make the doctor lose the last bit of his self control.

the moment you both return to your room, zayne pounced on you, not even waiting to take off his glasses as he pulled down his dress pants and boxers, shoving your panties to the side before sheathing himself within your slick folds.

as he thrusts himself against you, his glasses kept getting in the way each time you tried to kiss him. feeling frustrated, you quickly grab at his glasses, tossing them aside in the midst of your lovemaking.

momentarily confused as his eyes tried to adjust to the view without the clarity of his glasses. while he moves forward without breaking his connection with you, you felt your eyes go wide when you heard the sound of a loud crack! beneath zayne’s feet.

you met with zayne’s gaze, an apology on the tip of your tongue when you felt your lover suddenly pin you to the bed, pumping his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace that takes your very breath away.

“that was quite the expensive prescription glasses you made me break, honey. perhaps i should punish you by not holding back anymore?”

you cling to xavier, basking in the way he held you tightly within his embrace. feeling so desperate for each other, xavier carries you to your shared bedroom, tossing aside your clothes before setting your form on the bed.

with his gaze darkened fully with desire for you, xavier quickly sheds off his clothes until he was just as bare as you, spreading your legs before completely sheathing himself inside of your slick folds-

however, the intensity of his thrust forces the top of your head to meet with your headboard, making you cry out as you let out a groan of pain. filled with panic now, xavier quickly slides out of you, his cock already softening due to the guilt of potentially hurting you.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to hurt you…” his hands immediately try to soothe the ache felt on top of your head, earning a soft hiss from you. it takes you a few moments to reorient yourself, but once your head slowly began to stop pounding did you push xavier on his back.

“that really hurt.” you pout at him, yet instead of allowing xavier to tell you how sorry he was, you interrupt him by grabbing a hold of his limp cock, slowly stroking him back to full hardness while basking in his groans of your name, “as punishment, i’ll be the one in charge for the night.”

you tried to convince rafayel to behave during your museum date-

yet he seemed to have had other plans when he traps you behind one of the walls, hands already sliding up the skirt of your dress, “it’s your fault for getting me all riled up, princess.”

he smiles sweetly down at you, already knowing that you could never resist him when he pulls down your panties, allowing it to hang on your ankle as he lifts up one of your legs. he had merely unbuttoned his slacks, allowing his erection to peek through his boxers before impaling your cunt with his cock.

you toss your head back at the sudden intrusion, trying to keep your voice even as rafayel swiftly pumps himself in and out of you. as you became caught up in the moment, you heard a series of loud voices echoing throughout the exhibit. people had came directly into the area where you and your spoiled boyfriend were fucking, your eyes going wide as rafayel stops his rapid thrusting.

“oh the art is so lovely here, dear.” an older woman’s voice echoes throughout the exhibit, making rafayel smirk as he leans in to whisper within your ear, “relax princess, no one is gonna even notice us.”

as the older couple began to talk about the various art pieces on display, rafayel continues his rapid thrusts in and out of you. he covers your mouth with his large hand, and you could hear footsteps coming closer to where you and rafayel were hidden.

“dear, what’s that strange… wet sound? is there a potential leak somewhere?”

“ah, indeed, we should alert the curator of this. it would be a shame to see such wonderful works be ruined by the moisture.”

by now, rafayel was practically grinning at you, continuing his steady pace as the sounds of footsteps slowly walking away eased your anxieties, making you cum directly on rafayel’s cock, the sensation of your walls clamping down on him causes him to shoot his seed deep inside of you.

“heh, what a naughty princess you are, getting off by the thought of getting caught.” the lemurian had a smug grin on his handsome features, still very much connected to you as you could feel his seed running down the length of your thighs.

even when you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks-

you found yourself unable to deny his claims.

caleb had managed to trap you in his bed, pounding himself in and out of your heat, his mouth clamping down on his dog tag necklace to keep it from moving too much. as your moans and gasps echo throughout the room caleb’s phone was heard going off in the middle of his passionate lovemaking.

he clicks his tongue, and before you could even stop him, caleb removes his necklace from his teeth and answers the call, using his free hand to keep the phone pressed against his ear while continuing to fuck you with his cock. “yes?”

“colonel?”

“speaking.”

you let out a whimper when he listens to his colleague on the other line, forcing caleb to place his hand over your mouth before moving against you once more. your breasts continue to bounce in tune to his rapid movements, unsure of why he could be so calm while you remained an utter mess for him.

you were dimly aware of all the military jargon caleb said throughout the phone call while his cock was still nestled so deeply inside of you, making you whimper each time his hips met with yours in an almost bruising thrust as he made quick work of finishing his call.

“just place the reports on my desk. i’ll see you at 0600 sharp tomorrow.” with that final phrase, caleb tosses aside his phone before returning his attention back to you, “sorry about that, baby… that won’t happen again. now, let your man take care of you.” he had barely began pumping his dick in and out of you when you felt your release quickly approaching-

something about witnessing caleb doing mundane tasks while he fucks your brain out causes a new rush of pleasure to course through your very veins, making you cry out as you spilled yourself on his cock, earning a grunt of approval from the colonel settled above you.

“that’s my good girl… so pretty and perfect for me.”

end notes: i’m back home bc i miss this blog so much 🙂‍↕️ also, this request was so hot and so much fun to write ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[monstersholygrail]

Alien bf never knew there was even more love and affection to behold than what you had shown him and what he’s seen in the data archives found on their ships computers. But ever since he discovered sex and what it felt like to be so deeply connected to you he had turned into a fiend.

If you thought he was taking up all your time before, you literally cannot take a breath without him sliding up behind you and gathering you in his giant arms. Picking up your plush body with ease and molding it against his hard frame.

He carries you everywhere to the point where you often forget the last time your feet have touched the ground. The rest of your crew looks over at you in pity but you honestly can’t find it in yourself to complain. He views you as his mate, it only makes sense to want to do these things for you.

You can’t even delude yourself into thinking it’s innocent anymore. He knows what he’s doing, especially since he was caught watching porn with a hand around his cock. Moaning your name loud enough for someone to think he was calling for help. And he loves it. Making you squirm as he shamelessly feels you up. Soft chirps leaving him as he noses at your cute blush.

But his favorite noises from you come when he’s gotten six or seven orgasms out of your pretty cunt. Making a total mess of his throbbing cock that’s been wrecking you for hours. Fucking you stupid to the point where you forget your own language and start letting out the familiar clicks of his species.

His clawed fingers curl around your waist, using you like a fleshlight as he slams back down on his cock at a brutal pace. Meeting his own thrusts to hammer up into you even harder. Those lovely clicks that sing your pleasure pierce the air and your pussy pulses around his thick girth.

It brings him more satisfaction than he can express. Above all he relishes in the fact that there’s no doubt by now that your crew knows what’s going on in just the next wing of the ship. That’s right. You’re taken and no human cock could ever compare to what he can give you.

“Louder, sweet mate. L-let them, unngh, let them hear how good I make you feel. Need them to know you’re mine,” he growls, his cock twitching inside you and hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.

You cry out loudly, not wanting to admit how good his possession over you feels. Now that you know it’s intentional it makes it all a million times hotter. You’d be embarrassed by the loud squelch that echos with each thrust if you weren’t so unbearably needy, even after coming so much already.

The coil in your belly tightens so hard you fear you’re about to burst. And the second it snaps your releasing streams of your orgasm all over your Alien bf’s huge lap, soaking his lower half entirely. He only lasts for a few more thrusts before he’s burying himself inside you and splashing buckets of cum into your eager cunt.

He keeps you firmly on his lap, your bodies still deeply joined long after he grows soft again. Both of you panting heavily. His breath ghosts across your burning skin as he nuzzles into you, showing no signs of letting go any time soon.

It won’t take much to get him going again. So you take advantage of the break for as long as you can. Trying to ignore the way your pussy flutters as if trying to get him hard again. You can’t control it, he’s turned you into as much of a sex fiend as he is.

Reaching behind you, you brush your hand against your bfs large cheek until you’re weaving your fingers in his long silky hair. A deep purr rumbles from his chest and he leans contently into your touch.

“You’ve gotten pretty good at this whole human intimacy thing. Is there anything else you want to learn?” You ask teasingly, every inch of your body humming with satisfaction.

But of course he takes your words seriously. Perhaps humor will be next up on the list of lessons to get through. Something to think about perhaps when his cock isn’t creating a bulge in your soft belly.

“I wish to learn everything… so long as it’s you teaching it to me, my mate.”

Though all thoughts of lessons and teachings fly out the window when you feel his long thick fingers slowly making their way down to your swollen puffy clit. That he finds with ease by the way. Your bf already growing needy for you again.

[suguae]

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 

And perhaps that's what it was. 

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong. 

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

[mwphisto]

I’m not worth it - Rafayel

Rafayel is genuinely appalled when you tell him that he could find a partner so much more worthy of his love. Not only is he appalled that those words left your lips, he’s utterly appalled that you said them with 100% sincerity.

Better than you? Better than the woman he waited 800 years for? Better than the woman he gave up his entire world for? Better than the woman who owns his heart? Seriously? Do you even hear yourself when you talk?

The anger that flashes across Rafayel’s face has you shrinking back, heart pounding because you realize you are in a world of trouble for saying such a thing. Not just because of the fear, but because he is responding so fiercely to your self deprecating proclamation.

“What?” It’s nothing short of a hiss, a look of genuine disgust on his face. Not at you, but at the heinous idea you dared to utter. “I said I—“ but he cuts you off, a noise of pure anger leaving the artist’s lips.

“I heard you the first time, and I most definitely do not want to hear those words again.”

Then, he’s moving towards you, lithe hands coming up to cup your heated cheeks. The intensity in his gaze urging you to break eye contact but you don’t dare to. “Who do I have to kill?” And you blink, unsure of how to proceed.

“Who do I need to kill?” Again, leaving you lost. “WHO put those god awful thoughts in your pretty little head, cutie? WHO do I need to kill for ever making you doubt your worth of my love and affection.”

And your throat is drying up, because if you give him the honest answer he’d have to kill— “m-me.”

“You?” Rafayel is holding you a little tighter, heart thumping in agony that the creature who could conjure up such evil ideas was none other than yourself.

“What have I done to make you feel like this?” Because clearly he’s done something wrong along the way. Was he too bratty? Too dramatic? Did he make one too many sarcastic comments? Did he act some sort of way that made you question his feelings? He’s spiraling.

“You did nothing! God no, Raf. You’ve done nothing it’s just… me I guess. Self conscious. I-imposter syndrome even! Just… got too lost in my own head and…”

You’re spiraling too, and he can see it just as you picked up on the way he began to lose it. And you still have the audacity to think he wouldn’t burn the world for you? To be able to pick up so easily on his derailing train of thought.

“My love, my entire heart…” he’s coming down, coaching himself mentally to take deep breathes because nothing will get solved if he loses it like he usually does. “… I would destroy the entire world if it meant keeping you happy.”

“I would do whatever you asked me too with no hesitation. You mean everything to me, more than everything. Why would you ever deem yourself unworthy of my love?”

Tears leaked down your cheeks now, not because of your own insecurities but because of how fiercely he was loving you. The way he always had, maybe that was part of the reason you had begun to feel so unsure.

“I think I just…” you sniffle, leaning into Rafayel’s touch as he thumbed away the tears on your cheeks. “…I guess I got so overwhelmed with your love. That… part of me felt undeserving. You’re so handsome, talented, you have a kind soul even though you try to hide it. I’m just… me.”

“Exactly. You’re just you. Perfect in every way. So beautiful, so strong, brave, equally as talented.” His eyes search yours before continuing. “You’re equal amounts of loving and sweet. You put up with my antics like nobody else, you have time for me when nobody ever has.”

“I may not be the easiest lover. I may be dramatic, I may carry my own emotional baggage that I struggle to open up about. But there is one thing I am certain about, one thing I will proudly proclaim with my whole heart. And it’s the fact that I love you more than anything. More than my art, more than my career, more than Lemuira.”

You’re crying hard now, hands holding his wrists. The warmth seeping into his skin as your tears leak down and collect on his palms. He hasn’t let go of your face, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to either. “Please, cutie. My love, my heart, my beautiful girl… the next time you’re feeling like this. Tell me before it becomes unbearable.”

You can only manage a nod, hiccuping as he tugs you close to place kisses all over your face. “I would lay down my life and die for you, so don’t you ever think that you are unworthy of my love. You’re perfect for me, the only woman I could ever want. I waited 800 years for you to return to me, and now that you have, I’m never letting go.”

[chronicowboy]

Eddie isn't sure what he's expecting when Buck meets him at the airport. Red-rimmed eyes, splotchy face, hunched shoulders probably. Not this. Distant eyes, blank face, straight-backed. He'd been braced to catch Buck as soon as he landed, had spent his whole flight locking every bit of his own grief away to be thought about at a later date, let the guilt pool in his chest instead.

I should've been there, I could've -

He'd been ready to catch Buck, but it's Eddie who falls into Buck's waiting arms. Eddie who tears up. Eddie who clutches at the back of Buck's shirt like a scared child. And it's Buck sweeping his hands up and down Eddie's back, holding him together, murmuring:

"It's okay. I've got you. It's not your fault."

Eddie doesn't cry in LAX. His grief is a private thing. Always has been. He locks it into his bedroom and lets it out behind closed doors. But Buck is the safest space he's ever had, so he lets himself break a little. Lets himself shake apart under Buck's hands until he can ground himself with a deep breath at the junction of Buck's neck and shoulder. Until he can stand on his own.

Buck looks at him, eyes searching, deepest of furrows between his brows, so devastatingly gentle. And Eddie kind of wants to fucking scream at him for being okay. He'd needed to take care of Buck. He'd needed to have something to do. But now Buck is looking at him like he can fix him, and Eddie wants him to. So badly. But Buck knows Eddie's grief is for South Bedford Street, not LAX, so all he does is lead Eddie out to the parking lot.

It's a silent drive. Buck tells him the details of the funeral. Clinical. Sparing. And Eddie watches Buck's knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Listens to the creak of leather under an unyielding grip. And he sees it then. The countdown over Buck's head, ticking away steadily. He's grateful in a way.

They pull up to the house silently. The engine falls quiet. And they stare at the door. The door Bobby had appeared on the other side of just a few months ago for a goodbye dinner. At the house. The house Bobby made coffee in when Eddie couldn't stomach being alone. At the home. The home Bobby helped him build in every way.

Buck gets out of the car. Eddie follows. Buck unlocks the door. Eddie locks it behind them. Buck disappears into the kitchen. Eddie pauses.

Can't quite separate Bobby from kitchens in his mind. And it's not like Bobby ever cooked anything in Eddie's kitchen, but there's some stupid grief-crazed part of his brain that thinks he'll find Bobby at the stove for a last supper. A parting gift to Eddie. Because Bobby was always too good. Too generous. Too understanding. When it came to Eddie.

When he finally makes it in there, Buck is stood staring into the fridge. Vacant. Eddie joins him, presses their shoulders together as hard as he can without knocking Buck away, and looks at Buck's fingers curled loosely around two beer bottles. Eddie knows it's not the early hour staying his hand.

It feels wrong. To find comfort in alcohol at Bobby's expense.

Carefully, Eddie unpicks Buck's fingers from the bottles and watches as Buck's arm falls limp to his side with such weight it bounces off his hip. Swings once, twice, stops suddenly. Eddie grabs the water filter. Closes the fridge.

"Sit down," he whispers. Sure, steady.

Buck sits down.

Eddie grabs two glasses. Fills them with water. Leaves the filter on the side. Who cares? Who fucking cares? Takes the glasses over to the table in shaking hands. Spills only a little. Sits opposite Buck. Stares into his cup.

"I didn't say it back," Buck rasps eventually.

Eddie picks his head up with great effort. Ony manages it because he wants to see what hurt he's caused. Their missing medic. Absent in their hour of need.

"What?"

"B-he-he told me he loved me." Buck's eyes go wide. Horrified. Haunted. Hollow. "He t-told me he l-loved me, and I could-couldn't say it back be-because that would mean..." Buck chokes a sob into his hand. "I thought we'd fix it. I-I-I thought we'd find a way. We-we always do. I couldn't say it-it. I didn't want t-to let him go. And now, he's..." Buck's face crumples first. Then, the rest of his body follows, folding in on itself in the chair until he looks almost as small as Christopher had the first time he'd ever sat at this table. "He's d-gone, and he doesn't know I love him."

"He knows, Buck." Eddie's hand curls into a fist on the tabletop. Doesn't know what to do. For all he'd been ready to hold Buck together, he's not sure how. "He knows you love him, Buck. You told him every single day."

"But I never said the words!" he snaps. Pure rage. Pure guilt. He looks up at Eddie. Blue eyes wet and red and wild. The rage and the guilt seeps away, leaves only pure grief. "I never said the words."

He sobs then. Doesn't choke it down. Lets it out. Eddie reacts like it's instinct even though he's never done this before. Just somehow knows in his bones what to do when it comes to Buck.

He stands, rounds the table, slides a hand into Buck's hair, one on his shoulder, pulls Buck's face into his stomach and holds him there, holds him together. Buck's fingers tangle themselves in Eddie's belt loops. A lifeline. And Eddie holds him tight as he can.

"All the times you cooked for him. All the times he cooked for you. The two of you cooking together. You had your own language, Buck. He knows you love him."

And all Eddie hears is: you're gonna stand there with a hundred-something bodies on you and tell me I'm not fit for duty. Did Bobby know Eddie loved him too?

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Eddie drops his cheek to the top of Buck's head. Stops holding Buck together and starts holding on. Buck's hands grasp at his hips, twist into the back of his shirt just like Eddie's had at the airport.

And all Eddie hears is: I just want to make sure you don't think you have to lose everything before you can allow yourself to feel anything.

[cosycafune]

RELENTLESS CONQUEROR

1.5k words. you’re not supposed to give in; that’s your first mistake. confessing to a man that’s notorious for deals is only going to screw you over. but, having him between your thighs, ruining you, makes you forget about sylus’ nature.

acts: multiple creampies, slight choking, rough sex, teasing, corruption kink, breeding kink, crying, orgasms, missionary, light sadistic tendencies, pet names, overstimulation, size difference, big cock, hickeys and potentially more.

a/n: there's only so much I can write for him. I love him.

RUINED, that’s what you are. The moment you revealed your love for Sylus, he couldn’t help but grasp you – sexually reforming you. As a confession fleed from your lips, his usually stoic demeanour faltered. Faltered with cockiness that you knew would be your demise.

Perhaps that was why you’re here right now? Pulverised, stuffed immensely with his colossal cock? Tears streamed from your wavering eyes, paving you into gasping, moaning and writhing as he thrusts inhumanely within you. All forms of coherency fled from you, leaving you a trembling, jolting mess – mushy at Sylus’ precise cock ruining.

Your gummy walls engulf him, completely overwhelmed and claimed. Tears stream down your cheeks while Sylus cloudily meets your eyes, taking you in missionary. To him, he had to memorise you in your rawest form. Rawest form as your large breasts bounce, your pursed lips stammer crazily, and your throat bubbling with his name.

“Sylus! Ah!” You hazily moan, barely capable of holding his sculpted back – lazily attempting to clutch the ridges of Sylus’ abs.

“Fuck! Say… you love me, Sweetie,” Authoritatively pleading, Sylus’ carmineeyes admire your prisoned self — fuelled by lustful adrenaline.

“Ngh! I-I…love you, Sy’,” Moaning, whining obediently, you arch abnormally – completely conquered by Sylus’ cock thrusting its deepest within you.

“A-Again,” Cloudily commanding you, Sylus picks up his extremely swift pace – in love with the addictive warmth that flows from your needy cunt.

“Yes! I…Ah! Love…you,” Flustered, you're barely able to speak – mentally consumed by Sylus grunting within your ear.

“Look at…you, sweetie,” So close to crumbling, you grow extremely close to finishing – longing for Sylus to inform you that he loves you.

Positioned upon his ample, seclusive bed, you glimpse into his eyes. A whisper of vulnerability holds them, leading to you guiding your trembling hand to settle upon his cheek. Even as your small hand is entwined with his own, his toned hips primal, marking you with his fruitful cock, Sylus listened to every essence of you.

It’s as if he preyed on your vulnerability, posing himself to watch your crumbled expressions worship his cock. With each lick of sweat upon you, each gasp, moan and plead for more, you knew Sylus basked within it. No, you knew he had estimated how long it’d take for you to break your intimate barriers for him. Innately, guided by fate, you knew he was mentally intrigued by how swiftly you admitted your love. Admitted your love to be beneath him, overpowered by his veiny cock, consistently cumming and faltering.

“‘Need…more,” Pleading, moulded to accommodate Sylus eternally, you grow obedient.

The obedience you display sculpts Sylus into a hazardous state, boyishly grinning before he maintains intense eye contact. Wealthy with your clinginess, Sylus increases the skin slapping in the room, watching your eyes impossibly roll back, your brain mushed at how stupidly good he fucked you. Sylus is proud and consumed by how someone as stubborn and naive as you handle him. Handle his devilish cock, going an unstable amount of sexual rounds. 

Seeing you, someone promoted as untouchable, detesting his presence, sexually succumbing to him – begging – heightened Sylus’ ego. Taunting you, he can’t help but stop his addicted cock – looking down at the ego-shattering mess of you. If you knew what you looked like, pouty, messy, flaunting glassy eyes for him, he knew you’d be unable to redeem yourself.

“S-So…near,” Breathless, you choppily hurl your pointless words, “D-Don’t…stop.” Clenching drastically around Sylus’ cock, you lovingly press your lips against his own – listening to his air-less breaths.

“When you…kiss me like that.” Lulled by you, Sylus is incapable of resisting – relishing the intimate warmth your kiss promotes.

Sombrely, you both had kissed in disadvantaged circumstances. Obstacles engulfed you both each time. So, sacrificing your honour, and giving Sylus genuine affection, warmed him immensely. Having you, knowing you were once discontent with him, flares Sylus’ primal instincts. A surge of desperation writes his fate, paving him into gifting you a deep thrust – greeting the sexual spots you love heavily.

“I…love you,” Subconsciously speaking, you gasp with each thrust – revealing each mental card you hold. Your poker face had crumpled, leaving behind your purest love for Sylus.

“Mhm,” Sylus mutters, feeling you frantically clench around him – unable to compose yourself. You’re so close to faltering, cumming all over his pulsating cock – but your subconsciousness wants to hear him return your words.

“Do…you?” Teary, faintly questioning Sylus, you greet his rolling eyes – noticing his firmness increasing within you.

“Hm–” As Sylus readies himself to speak, you mewl, too overwhelmed by the macaroni-imitating sounds, the wicked skin slapping and the emotion-heavy atmosphere.

Breathing heavily beneath him, attempting to pry Sylus away, so close to finishing, you sink further into the bedsheets. Spewing tears, your eyes close, your lips draw apart further and your back arches. Even caged, presented with limited freedom, you impulsively gather might. Using your might, you claw at Sylus’ back, your dainty hands barely covering the surface of his manly back.

“Ah! Sylus!” Freeing yourself, you clamp around his pulsating cock – finishing intensely. Your willpower shredded itself, surrendering you to Sylus entirely.

“Finished?” Teasing you, Sylus sharpens his pounding – decimating your overstimulated pussy. Even as your adorable cum decorates his manly cock, he can’t help but continue – bounded by the feeling of you.

“G-Good,” Mentally misplaced, you respond to his fuzzy voice – noticing the Sylus’ eager bucking.

To you, you could sense he longed for more. Each one of his thrusts was becoming a little sloppy, paired with his heavy breathing. Sylus is dripping with sweat, admiring a sleepy you – burying himself his deepest within you. He knew you struggled to take his thickness, but easing you through it was the best thing he had ever done. It represents the subconscious trust you carry for him, revealing your nude vulnerability and your guarded heart.

“L-Let…me,” Pussy-stricken, Sylus stutters – consumed by the tingling warmth that cuddles his whole physique. However, he still has adorable, crimson ears. Ears you’d always tease.

Nodding, you lazily wrap your burly legs around Sylus’ abdomen – desperate to immortally seize him. Nothing in you wanted to release his closeness, to protect your future. Everything within you wanted to keep him here, have him cum in you so many times, uncaring if you end up pregnant. All you wanted was everything of him, no matter how much love bit you – putting you in overwhelming situations.

Sacrificing yourself, you feel Sylus grow increasingly aggressive and more possessive. Animalistically, he brings his hand to settle around your neck – moaning, grunting and growling at the submissive scenery of you. Sylus goes his absolute hardest, turned on by your overstimulated self. Just seeing you, croakily moaning, completely broken into, churned his heart. 

You’re all his now, something he won’t forfeit. Even as you subconsciously cry, your jiggly breasts bouncing, your squelching pussy wanting more, Sylus can’t bring himself to release you. He knows you want all of his thick, fruitful buckets of semen, but he wanted to taunt you a little bit. Even if it renders him into painful, yet beautiful, pleasure, he doesn’t care. Depriving you, corrupting you, it was what he loved most. As if he’d give you his cum right now, filling you up to listen to you purr with satisfaction.

“‘Can’t…resist,” Admiring your hickey-scattered self, Sylus cries out with angst – his abdomen a crazed mess as he intensely cums inside of you.

Happily, Sylus stuffed you like a twinkie bar – overstuffing you with his spilling seed. As you arch at his extremely intense release, Sylus softly increases the pressure on your neck – remaining his deepest within you. Whilst you’re laying beneath him, a sticky and sweaty mess, he lets his cock kiss your cervix once more – shooting out his last cum spurts. Marking you made him gleeful, leaving you with a belly full of him.

He did not care that you’re ovulating, right now.

“You…did good, sweetie,” Exhausted, pulling out, Sylus breathlessly praises you – looking into your fluttering eyes. He could see the conflict that stirred within your glassy eyes.

“Y-Yeah, but,” Doubtful, you stop speaking – feeling him alter his physique. Sylus slowly settled you upon his chest, giving a nude you the sound of his rumbling heartbeat.

“Speak,” Doused with curiosity, Sylus’ low, scruffy tone forces you to answer. His authority’s off the charts, knowing you’re vulnerable now.

“You never said it,” Physically drained, you respond to him – meekly shying away at his intimidating demeanour.

“That I love you, sweetie?” Sylus’ almost conclusive question causes your stomach to inhabit butterflies.

You didn’t even care that you could get pregnant or anything that could happen.

“Yeah,” Meek, you reply to an attentive him – listening to Sylus’ heartbeat rise erratically. 

You did that.

“I love you, sweetie,” Embedded with truth, Sylus reassures you – plastering a gentle kiss upon your temple.

Gentleness adheres to you, causing you to cave into his hold. Listening to him speak so sincerely, riddled with the art of love, completely consumed you. Heartiness adheres to you, pushing you into relishing Sylus’ presence. Even if love bites, you can’t help but relish Sylus’ presence – rendered love-stricken.

Weirdly, you didn’t want to resist the bites of love. Naturally, you pledge to embrace them – especially since they came from Sylus.

—

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. read more.

[amortxt]

⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀𖥻⠀ㅤ⠀﹫⠀kento⠀nanami.

ㅤㅤⓘㅤㅤfluff, reader and kento are married + have a daughter, f!reader as it contains mentions of reader going through motherhood + being called mother, reader is implied to have taken nanami as a last name.

"shhh, shh, it's okay.. it's okay sweetheart.."

it was originally kento that had encouraged you to leave for this trip. you thank all your lucky stars for your husband being as supportive as he was throughout your journey of motherhood. never allowing you to have to pick your career over your family or your family over your career.

he was your balance. your hold onto the ground when you felt like you were ready to float away.

he was your everything.

but now he had begun to regret letting you leave today. your daughter was 7 months old. he had told you, that surely she was okay to spend just two nights away from her mother. but it seemed she had grown near inseparable from her mother. all understanding for just a baby, but in this moment he couldn't bare having to hear his daughter cry further. he was ready to begin breaking down himself at this point.

he tiredly reached for his phone. shamefully calling your number at 2 am, fully aware you had an important meeting early next morning. how he loathed himself at the moment. grumbling out a "dear god" as the phone rang for a few seconds.

you picked up shortly, unsurprisingly. you had made it very clear to him that he should call you no matter what, whenever he needed if he needed help. he had assured you that it wouldn't have to come to that, so you couldn't help but smile when you heard your daughters wailing in the background.

"didn't need me huh?" he didn't even need to see you. he could practically hear your insufferable smirk, that he unfortunately missed more than ever.

"never said that. now please god, sweetheart, she's not stopped crying for a good half an hour." you laughed, still on the other side of the world you were being woken up because of your daughters crying late at night. it was humorous, and strangely sweet.

you requested a facetime, and he accepted quickly. you looked straight into your daughters teary eyes, and she looked back all bug eyed, her crying slowly coming to a stop. you didn't know if she was more thrilled to see you or the metal square shine a bright light in her face.

"hi baby, you're not giving your papa a hard time, right?" your daughter responded in little babbles. your heart warmed a little, and you could see your beloved grinning in the background. you hadn't admitted it- barely even noticed it in fact, how much you truly missed your little family. you needed this too.

you and your daughter continued baby-talking for a good few minutes until you could see her yawning, to which kento had placed a bottle into her mouth. she slowly began to fall asleep, drinking the now lukewarm milk.

you looked at your husband with loving eyes. he looked back at you with just the same fervor. like you were his whole world, like you'd hung up the stars for him. even as you were halfway across the world from him. he would never hate you for caring about your career. it made you practically ill with adoration.

"stay on call with me please? i miss you."

"i miss you too, sweetheart. of course i will."

"goodnight, i love you papamin."

"goodnight mamamin. i love you too."

⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. do not repost.

[lyrefromthesea]

Period sex with upper moons?

Akaza, Kokushibo, Douma - Period Sex

author's note: guess who's my favourite character in here and who i have personal beef with, i dare you.

pairing: Kokushibo x reader, Douma x reader, Akaza x reader

content warning: (obviously) period sex, mentions of blood, fem!reader

Kokushibo:

• though internally panicking, looked just fine when he picked up on the smell of blood

• came to check and the silent panic vanished

• will eventually know when your period starts before you know it yourself

• has no problem going down on you, but somehow always end up balls deep inside you

you whined as the man pulled two fingers out of your cunt, satisfied with the way you were dripping both blood and arousal.

he held eye contact with you as he brought the two digits to his lips, pushing them past his lips and licking the blood off.

"it's more than sweet.." he uttered, all three pairs of his eyes narrowing slightly. you held back a needy hum, seeing him glance at you.

he let his kimono slide of his shoulders, your mind occupied by the gracefulness of his actions. the cloth fell to the ground, revealing the pale body you've seen many times already.

"now let me have you.." he quietly said, steeping out of the last piece of clothing. though your eyes were focused on the clothes piled beside him, he was completely focused on you.

before you knew it, the man was over you, strong arms caging you between them. you felt your face heat up, almost making you forget the cramps you were experiencing.

"look at me." he demanded - requested. despite the embarrassment, you met his gaze, the smallest tug on his lip indicating his content state.

you held eye contact with him until he had fully sheathed himself inside you. his hand traveled over your stomach, pressing down where he suspected his cock would be.

you gasped, trying to keep yourself from arching your back. with his hand still on your stomach, he began slowly thrusting into you, watching your face for any discomfort.

"is that it? are you feeling good like this?" he whispered into your ear, his voice lightly breathy. you didn't answer - he didn't need one, not when you were squeezing around him so tightly.

Douma:

• you know he takes advantage of situations that could be good for him and this is definitely one of them

• yes, sex is something he had come to enjoy, but this was totally different

• blood, he didn't even need to do anything

• free source of food for a week, definitely will eat you out, no way he'll use his cock when he can just fuck you with his tongue

this was perfect, you were perfect, everything about this situation was perfect to him. he had you right where he wanted, right at his mercy.

you, on the other hand, were exhausted and in desperate need of a break. when did this start? you couldn't even remember how many orgasms the man - the demon - has pulled out of you.

his tongue licked a long stripe up your pussy, watching you shudder and cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. he was too focused on his actions to notice the way you were weakly tugging at his hair, trying to stop him.

"so sweet, my little follower." he muttered against you, eyes finally opening, just enough for them to be lidded. he looked at you, realizing that the blood had decreased over time.

"don't tell me you're already finished? i thought you were going to give me more - show me your respect." he laughed, knowing that you could barely react to his words.

tears had started falling down your cheeks a long time ago, not sure how to handle any following orgasm. yet you couldn't move, body cramping up every few minutes while his arms pressed you against his face.

he didn't care how messy it got, a mix of slick, spit and blood staining his lips and chin. how could he care? you were divine.

if there was anything close to a god, it had bestowed him with the pleasure of getting to taste you every month.

your weak cries pulled him out of his thoughts, feeling you convulse and tremble once more, cooing at the orgasm he pulled out of you.

"look, there's more! i knew you had it in you, little follower, now be good and give me even more." he chuckled, kissing up your thigh until he was ready to dive into eating you out again.

Akaza:

• panicked when you got your first period and he didn't know of it

• first thought: danger, first thought after finding out you were on you period: nonexistent

• knew you were in pain and does his best to help, but keeps away from sex for quite some time

• eventually gives up because he can't resist your pleading

• enjoys it, but constantly worried

you watched him wipe the blood off his chin with the back of his hand, licking the rest of his lips. the action alone made you shudder in anticipation, feeling him stand up to position himself over you.

"are you feeling better, darling?" he asked, his voice quiet, as if he knew it would hurt you. you were fragile in his eyes, at the verge of breaking whenever you felt like this.

he treated you with the outmost care, abandoning pride to ensure your comfort. feeling another cramp shoot pain through your stomach, you held onto him, squeezing your eyes shut.

"please.. i need you.." you breathlessly whispered, his warm hand coming down to rub soothing circles against your waist. his other hand helped him guide his cock towards your entrance.

"shh.. i'm here for you." he answered, rubbing his cock against the mix of your slick and blood, the action making you moan out quietly.

he let you hold onto him as he pushed in, whispering words of praise and appreciation. the man didn't stop until you took him full, quietly grunting at the way you were squeezing.

"you.. you have to relax, darling. you're squeezing me so damn tight.." he groaned, letting his head fall down.

his hand let go off your leg, rubbing circles against your clit. "a- ah.. relax for me, darling. relax so i can take care of you."

he made sure to put your pleasure above his, to ensure your safety, your comfort. you gifted him the opportunity to eat you out, to taste you in such a special way, he needed to make sure you were doing good. it was only fair in his opinion, this wasn't about him, he could hold himself back if it made you feel better.

nevertheless, you didn't mind thanking him once your period was over, making sure to give him the pleasure he made you feel.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hey, I love your fanfics so much!! I would like to know if you could make one that involves anguish... Charles' daughter suffers an accident and he panics

Papa is here

The house was filled with laughter and the clinking of wine glasses as Charles and Alexandra enjoyed a quiet evening with their friends. Carlos and Rebecca sat comfortably at the dining table, while Pierre and Kika occupied the couch, engaged in an animated conversation. The air smelled of good food, candles flickered warmly, and for once, life felt simple.

"She really drives everywhere now, doesn’t she?" Carlos chuckled, swirling the deep red liquid in his glass.

"Everywhere," Charles said with a soft smile, leaning back in his chair. "Mall, school, beach… I swear, I barely see her anymore."

Alexandra sighed but with a proud gleam in her eyes. "She’s independent, and honestly, it’s been a relief. She’s always been responsible."

Pierre smirked, nudging Charles. "She got that from her mother."

Charles scoffed. "Excuse me? I think I was a pretty responsible teenager."

"You? Responsible?" Rebecca laughed. "Didn’t you once race your dad’s car through Monaco because you were late for dinner?"

Carlos burst into laughter. "I’d pay to see that!"

Charles groaned, rubbing his temples as the others teased him. But despite the playful banter, pride swelled in his chest. His little girl, his Yn, had grown up so fast.

Just then, Alexandra’s phone buzzed. She barely glanced at it before picking up.

"Hello?"

Everyone continued talking, but within seconds, the atmosphere shifted. Alexandra’s expression froze, her body went rigid, and her grip on the phone tightened.

"What?!" she cried, standing abruptly. Her chair scraped against the floor as she turned pale. "No, no, no—please, tell me she’s okay! Please!"

The entire room fell silent. Charles’ heart stopped.

Alexandra’s breath came in ragged gasps. "Where is she? How bad is it? I need—I need to see her! Please!"

The moment she ended the call, tears streamed down her face as she looked at Charles.

"It’s Yn," she whispered, her voice breaking. "She—she had an accident. Another driver hit her."

Charles felt the air leave his lungs. His heart pounded violently in his chest, his ears ringing. "Where?" he choked out.

"The hospital," Alexandra sobbed. "She’s in surgery."

No one wasted another second.

The drive to the hospital was tense and silent, except for Alexandra’s quiet crying and Charles’ shaking hands gripping the wheel. His mind was racing, his thoughts a blur of fear and worst-case scenarios. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

When they arrived, Charles practically ran inside, the others hurrying after him.

"My daughter—Yn Jules Leclerc," he gasped at the nurse's station, barely able to form words. "She was brought in after a car accident. Please, tell me she’s okay."

The nurse gave him a soft, apologetic smile. "She’s still in surgery. The doctors are doing everything they can."

Alexandra let out a pained sob, covering her mouth as Rebecca wrapped an arm around her. Kika, holding back tears herself, held her other hand.

Charles stepped back, running both hands through his hair as panic clawed at his chest.

Pierre and Carlos exchanged worried looks before stepping closer.

"Hey, Charles, breathe, mate," Pierre murmured, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Breathe? My daughter is in surgery, Pierre!" Charles snapped, his voice shaking. "I—I don’t even know if—" He cut himself off, unable to say the words.

Carlos took a slow step forward. "Listen to me. I know you’re scared. We all are. But you’re no good to Yn if you collapse from a panic attack, okay?" His voice was steady but gentle, his hand squeezing Charles’ shoulder.

Charles squeezed his eyes shut, his breath uneven. His whole body trembled, and for a terrifying moment, he felt like he was losing control.

Pierre guided him to a chair. "Sit. Just for a moment."

"I can’t—I can’t just sit while she’s—"

"I know," Carlos said quietly. "But you need to breathe."

Charles swallowed hard, gripping his knees, trying to steady himself. He could hear Alexandra’s quiet sniffles, Rebecca whispering reassurances, Kika rubbing her back.

The minutes dragged on painfully. Every time footsteps echoed down the hall, Charles’ head snapped up, desperate for news.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor in blue scrubs approached.

"Yn Leclerc's family?"

Charles shot up so fast his chair nearly fell over. "Yes! Yes, we’re her parents!"

The doctor nodded, his face unreadable. "She’s out of surgery. The accident caused significant injuries—her left arm is broken, and she had internal bleeding, but we were able to stabilize her. She’s still unconscious, but she’s strong. She made it through."

Charles let out a shaky breath, relief and fear mixing painfully in his chest. "Can I see her?"

"She’s in room 214," the doctor said with a small smile. "She’ll need time, but she’ll recover."

Before anyone could react, Charles was already running.

The sight of Yn in the hospital bed nearly broke him.

Her face, usually so full of life, was pale and bruised. A bandage wrapped around her forehead, her arm in a cast, tubes connected to machines that beeped softly.

Charles’ legs nearly gave out.

He stumbled to her bedside, his hands trembling as he reached for her, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

"Papa is here, mon amour," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. His fingers stroked her hair gently, as if afraid she might break under his touch.

He had been so scared. So, so scared.

"I should have been there," he murmured, his throat tightening. "I should have protected you."

His other hand grasped hers, careful not to disturb the IV line. He brought it to his lips, pressing a soft, shaky kiss to her knuckles.

"You scared me, mon ange," he admitted, his eyes stinging. "But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere."

The door opened quietly, and Alexandra walked in, her eyes red from crying. Behind her, Pierre, Carlos, Rebecca, and Kika lingered.

Seeing Yn like this broke her all over again. She clutched Charles’ shoulder for support. "She’s okay," she whispered, mostly to reassure herself.

Charles nodded but didn’t take his eyes off their daughter. "She is."

Silence filled the room, heavy with emotions.

Rebecca sniffled. "She’s gonna be so mad when she wakes up and sees all of us hovering."

Pierre chuckled weakly. "She’ll roll her eyes and tell us we’re dramatic."

Carlos smirked. "That would be a good sign."

Charles finally let out a small, exhausted laugh. "Yeah… it would."

They stayed there, surrounding Yn with love, waiting for her to wake up. And when she did, Charles would be right there, holding her hand, reminding her that no matter what—

Papa is here.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[henrycangelbaby]

Thinking about John Price and his cute little assistant (reader) who ends up pregnant. 

A/N: Guys i was inspired while scrolling on the john price x reader tag, this legit came to me as a vision and now i have to write it (I plan on expanding on this idea so just stay with me!!!!)

Imagine being John Price's cute little assistant, just the sweetest little thing that John is kinda obsessed with. Like don't get me wrong she is amazing at her job, smart, put together and well organized and John does feel that her addition has been a positive one, taking some pressure off his shoulders and making sure his team is always prepared for whatever they are doing. She is very good at what she does, but that doesn’t stop John from admiring her. He knows he shouldn't be bit, he can't help it, she's young and sweet and a little bit innocent and he just wants to protect and love her all the time. 

In the beginning she was shy, only addressing him as sir and knocking on his door hesitantly whenever she needed to speak to him but gradually their boundaries became less and less. More often than not she works out of his office, whether he’s there or not, he insists on buying her an early lunch when she lets slip that she didn't have breakfast that morning. He has even picked her up from a night out once or twice, a little bit tipsy and calling the most trusted person she can think of that just happened to be her boss. He takes care of her as well, helping her get her makeup and clothes off before tucking her into her bed with a bottle of water and pain killers for the morning. He doesn't mention it when he sees her next, knowing how embarrassed she will be when he tells her the loneliness her tipsy self admitted. 

When she starts to get sick John is having absolutely none of it, driving her home and ordering her to take some time off (he even visits later that night to bring her some soup for her stomach). He doesn't expect her to look so sad when she comes back supposedly better from her “flu”, he doesn't expect to see her eyes shine with tears when he asks “what's wrong babygirl?”.  He sits them down on the couch in his office together, putting an arm over her and pulling her close for comfort. He certainly does not expect her to look up at him with those shiny wet eyes and admit she did something bad before crying that she's pregnant. It’s news to John who never even considered that his girl would be dating (let alone sleeping with) people. When he vocalizes this and she admits that her baby daddy isn't a very good guy, it's over for John. 

Suddenly he's all over her, promising to be there for her, that she can come to him whenever she needs. And he actually means it. Suddenly she’s staying in the spare bedroom in his house, not only does it have more room but John can keep an eye on her. She entirely moves into his office working on his desk with him, he gets her a comfy chair so she can be supported in the later months. He gets up to hold her hair back when she has morning sickness and ensures she gets enough nutritious food each day. When she starts showing, oh my god John doesn't know what to do with himself. That little bump peaking out of her tight skirts makes him foam at the mouth. Of course he prioritizes her comfort, insisting she change shoes and stop wearing those uncomfortable looking heels, but he keeps her in her formal work attire for just a little longer, just so he can see her cute tummy poking out of it. 

Speaking of her bump. He simply can't resist putting his hand on it. He feels so protective over it, best believe he goes feral if anyone tries to touch it. Hell all but breaks loose when his precious baby looks up at him with teary eyes telling him how uncomfortable she was when some rando put their hand on her stomach, (someone definitely lost their job that day). He eventually has her sitting in his lap, cooing over her and reassuring her that they won't get in trouble, that really he is the big boss anyways. He just loves having her there, perched on top of him he rests his head on her shoulder both arms coming around to cradle her now bigger bump. 

John mandates maternity leave when she starts getting big, maybe around seven months when she spends a lot of her time complaining about back aches and swollen ankles, of course he does what he can to help her but it gets to the point where he knows that she should be resting. He has to basically forcibly put her on leave, reassuring her panics about money by promising to take care of her. And oh boy does he. He gives her foot massages and holds her belly, when she starts outgrowing her clothes best believe he would hand over any of his so she can fit in them more comfortably. He's just all over her, unable to stomach the fact that soon she will have a real live baby. That baby is about to become the most protected baby in the entire world.

That's all I have for now because I fear if I begin rambling about the rest of the 141 neither of us might make it out alive. (just know this baby is going to be so damn spoiled it’s crazy). 

[tojisteddy]

how would Simon react if you safeworded out?

would he be gruff but still sweet and soft and apologetic? would he fuss over you or play it cool while taking care of you? (“oh, lovey im so sorry…” or “its alright, thank you for telling me, i wont push you so far next time, kiddo…”)

why would blackcat!reader safeword out? stress? just not feeling it? maybe emotional?

I think there are two things in this world that Simon Riley is (and always will be) very serious about and that’s aftercare and your safety.

Like yeah he’s an asshole and gruff guy but when it comes to you, he really is a big softie at heart. So when he tells you off when you get back after not texting him back all night or gently making sure you walk on the inside of the street when your with him, it’s for good reason, he’s showing he cares. He loves you to pieces. Will do any and everything for you. So if he’s pushed too far, he makes mental note of it. And if he wants to push that far again, he’ll end up doing a check. Making sure you know your safeword, or right before he knows you’ll ‘give’ he’ll tap you out himself.

So when he hears you say the safeword, he doesn’t hesitate. He knows the first thing you need is comfort and reassurance. So he pulls out, and holds you in his big arms. Kisses you all over while you cry, getting you to calm down and listen to his words because he means them, truly.

“Simon was too mean, yeah? I Shouldn’t ‘ve pushed you like that, doll.”

“Dad’s sorry kitty, you were perfect, did everything I said so well. Always so good f’me.”

And if you refute his words, too in your own head, he’ll hold you just a little tighter. So you can hear his heartbeat, rocking you in his arms,

“You’ll never be the one at fault baby, ‘ts on me. My job to watch over you, right kiddo? Thanks for tellin me Princess, love you so much.”

Blackcat!reader would safeword out from stress or better yet, Simon just instinctively knows you’re off. Sad to say but I think blackcat!reader has been through a shit ton and can be pushed (and has found comfort in Simon pushing you to the limit). You’re the type to hold shit in like a tower until someone knocks it all over. let’s say a day where the cards just were not in your favor. It was terrible day at work and both of your dogs were acting up when you got home and you yelled at Simon, like really yelled at him (which is something neither of you do). Simon would be 10 spanks to thirty and either you grip at shirt and tell him you ‘give’ already sniffling or he notices you’re not crying. You’re just trembling, taking everything he’s giving you. And Simon will sit up you, ask you what’s wrong and then the dam in your eyes just breaks.

Choking on your own sobs,

“Pa I- I-“ boo-hoo, snot everywhere, clutching onto him, balling your eyes out till their puffy.

Simon doesn’t hesitate to pick you up, he lets out a soft sigh in his head because he hates to see you like this. And he hated that he always has to be the one to push you to cry (of all people). But he’s working on it, working on getting you to communicate and doing so makes him want to get better at communicating for himself too. He wants to be his best for you.

He coos, “Let’s give the princess a bath, hm kitten? Gonna get ya nice ‘nd clean ‘nd then get you in bed with that little Sanrio rabbit. Then we can talk tomorrow.”

You nod, taking a shaky breath followed by a hiccup. You manage to squeak out a ‘sorry’ halfway through the bath, and that’s when Simon gets playful, he boop your nose or tickles right under your chin making you squirm.

“What’s there to apologize for? Used your safeword like the big girl I know you are. Couldn’t be more proud ‘f you honey.”

He’ll nibble at your jaw and rest his head atop of yours while he rubs your back after getting you in bed.

“Just a bad day gorgeous, you’re not bad. Tomorrow’ll be better.”

a/n: I think crybaby, feenin & a little comfort are like prime examples too. Thank you so much for asking anon!!! I fuckin love with ppl ask questions!!

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @bruisedfig @tessakate @sevikasblackgf @mocha-the-muse @nightfwn @mims900

most recent masterlist

[ferrstappen]

dad of three l dad! max verstappen imagine

a/n: sooo max is officially a dad 😭😭 so I picked up the draft of my dad!Max series with the twins which you can find here! I hope you like it and let me m ow if you have some ideas!

summary: baby verstappen nº3 is here, and the twins are now happy with the idea.

It had been a quiet morning, at least by the new Verstappen household standards.

The Monaco penthouse, usually alive with the squabbling of six-year-old twins and the occasional feline disaster, was unusually peaceful. The cause of this rare tranquility? The arrival of Baby Lia had everyone mesmerized, literally and metaforically having everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Youcradled the newborn in your arms, gently rocking her in the nursery Max had insisted on painting himself. Pale pink walls, soft grey furniture, and a mobile of tiny stars that the twins helped assemble.

“You’re not even crying today,” you murmured, brushing a soft kiss on Lia’s forehead. “It’s like you know I needed a break, what a smart baby, yes you are.”

Footsteps padded down the hallway, fast and energetic. Then came the crash of something toppling over. The twins ready to disrupt the quiet.

“Mila!” Luca’s voice rang out, shrill and dramatic. “You almost dropped her bunny!”

“It’s not my fault Jimmy knocked it down!” Mila huffed back.

You sighed, smiling despite the quiet moment gone. The calm had lasted exactly twelve minutes.

You stepped into the hallway with Lia, just in time to see Jimmy dart out from under the baby’s toy box with a fluff of pink clutched between his teeth.

“Mama!” Mila wailed, dramatic tears already forming. “Jimmy stole Lia’s bunny!”

“Yes, because you dropped it, Mila!” Luca reprimanded his twin.

Before you could intervene, Max’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Jimmy! No stealing from the baby!”

Max appeared, wearing sweatpants, a Red Bull hoodie, and holding two sippy cups. He looked equally amused and tired. parenthood in a nutshell.

“Crisis averted?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I think Jimmy wants attention,” you replied, bouncing Lia gently. “He’s jealous, he probably thought it was only going to be the twins forever.”

Max chuckled, scooping up the cat and plopping him into Luca’s arms. “That’s what happens when you’ve ruled the house for years. Then babies come and steal your spotlight. Tough life.”

“And what about Sassy?” You asked Max.

Max glanced toward the back of the couch where Sassy lounged with the disinterest of a feline queen, which of course she was. “She’s plotting our demise, probably.”

You snorted, the vibrations of your body earning a smile from Lia.

The twins came running, now united in their mission: cooing at their baby sister.

“Can I hold her again?” Mila asked, reaching for Lia’s tiny hand.

“No, me first!” Luca insisted, already positioning the couch pillows for support just like Max had shown them.

You sighed again, this time with a full heart. You remembered the day you told the twins about the pregnancy, Luca had declared he didn’t want “a baby stealing his toys,” and Mila had spent the afternoon sulking because “babies are boring.” And both of them had tried really hard to stop the baby’s arrival.

Now? They were obsessed.

It was later that weekend in Miami when Max found himself being cornered in the paddock for an interview with Sky Sports Netherlands.

“So Max,” the interview began in Dutch, “congratulations again on the new addition to the family! How are things going at home with three kids now?”

Max grinned, hands in his pockets. “Chaotic. Loud. Exhausting… Perfect.”

The interviewer laughed. “And the twins? How are Mila and Luca adjusting? I remember they weren’t too pumped when we crossed paths a few months ago.”

Max didn’t hesitate. “Honestly? I thought they’d hate it. When we told them (Y/N) was pregnant, Luca wanted to move out.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Mila made us sign a paper saying we’d still play Barbie games with her even after the baby came. They were so in denial that we got a call from their teacher.”

The small group of journalists laughed.

“But now?” Max continued. “They’re obsessed. They follow Lia around like bodyguards. Luca brings her toys she can’t even use, Mila sings to her. They fight about who gets to hold her. I think I’ve held her less than both of them.”

“And the cats?” The interviewer teased. “I hear Jimmy and Sassy have opinions.

“Oh, Jimmy’s a menace. He tries to sleep in the crib,” Max said, his tone fond. “Sassy’s smarter, she gives Lia a five-foot radius. She watches from a distance like she’s evaluating her for royal court or something which is very entertaining.”

There was more laughter.

“Sounds like a full house.”

Max nodded. “It is. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

-

Back home, the house was quieter than usual.

With Max in Miami, you were managing the trio on your own. Your mother had offered to stay, but you politely declined, liking the rhythm and evolving routine; early mornings with Lia after the twins left to school, midday chaos with the twins, and long, quiet evenings watching Max on the TV while feeding the baby.

You curled onto the couch, baby Lia nestled in a wrap on your chest, Mila curled up beside you, and Luca was completely knocked out from building a Lego fortress with a secret baby princess chamber, which he assured was for both Lia and Mila.

Max’s interview played in the background. “Luca wanted to move out,” Max said on the screen, laughing.

You giggled, watching Luca’s face twitch in sleep as if he’d heard his name.

The moment made your heart ache with pride and love.

Two days later, Max came home.

The door opened quietly, he’d learned not to make noise just in case Lia was sleeping, but before he could take a step in, Mila barreled into him.

“Papa!” she squealed.

Max laughed, lifting her with one arm and dropping his bag with the other. Luca followed, hugging Max’s waist.

You appeared at the end of the hall, holding Lia with one hand and balancing a bottle in the other. “Hello babe, the house didn’t burn down.”

He met you halfway, kissing you deeply, letting his hand rest over Lia’s tiny head. “Missed you,” he whispered on your lips.

“She missed you too. She kept staring at the TV every time you talked.”

“She’s a Verstappen, she knows good racing.” Max bragged, a habit he picked since the twins were born was now at its peak after the birth of Lia. “Plus, she was conceived the night I won the fourth so she knows what’s good.” Max whispered the last part so the twins wouldn’t hear.

Later that night, the five of you, cats included, were on the bed.

Mila had brought her blanket, Luca had brought snacks which were promptly confiscated by Max. Jimmy snuggled into Max’s feet while Sassy stared at the baby with mild disapproval.

Lia gurgled softly between you, wearing a pale pink Red Bull onesie Max had been gifted by the team.

“I can’t believe we made her,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb along Lia’s little hand. “She’s perfect.”

“I was so scared,” you admitted. “I thought adding another baby would ruin the balance and let’s be honest, we never really thought about having another baby, we were just desperate to celebrate your championship.” You giggled, remembering the night.

Max turned to you, cupping your cheek. “You were right to be scared. But we didn’t ruin anything. We just… added more love.”

Luca yawned. “Papa, can Lia come to the next race?”

Max smiled. “Not yet, buddy. But soon.”

Mila curled next to her mother. “She needs earmuffs with her name printed, like the ones we use when we go see daddy race.”

“She’ll have them,” Max promised. “We’ll get her baby-sized ones.”

You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading like sunlight.

“I know we have enough but… I think we need a new cat.” Max proposed.

You snorted. “Excuse me?”

Max shrugged. “It’s only fair! The twins have Jimmy and Sassy, Lia deserves her own.” Your husband worked his beautiful blue eyes on you.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You said, knowing this fight was already lost.

“Mila was also talking about a puppy after meeting Leo.”

“Max!”

[monstersholygrail]

oh to be a mouse hybrid toyed with by a cat hybrid who just wants to see you squirm in every way

Ooh when the Cat Hybrid’s owners told him they were getting him a new little friend, you, a Mouse Hybrid were by far the last thing he was expecting.

He wanted another cat to mess with, to play with… to mate with. But he couldn’t stop himself from noticing your plump round form scurrying about the house or the constant skittish look in your eye as you surveyed your new home. Perhaps you would do.

From that day on he would terrorize you mercilessly. Chasing you around the around the house when your owners were gone, saying he was gonna devour you when he finally got his claws into you. Backing you into corners just to see the delicious terror in your eyes. Plopping his large form right on top of you so that you couldn’t escape him even as you scrambled desperately to get away.

It was never ending and as much as you wanted to say you hated it, it felt far too good. The Cat hybrid severely underestimated you, forgetting you too were a hybrid with all the same perks. You could smell his desire in the air every time he chased you. And you had grown addicted to the scent. To feel so wanted and yearned for, especially during the chase, nothing else could compare.

He would only ever mess with you when he felt like it so you figured you might need to give him a little push. Using yourself as bait you use your owners creaky stairs to your advantage. As soon as the first step creaks, the Cat hybrid’s head snaps up from where he’s perched. His eyes meet your wide ones for only a moment before you’re bolting down the stairs.

As soon as you hear the pounding of paws behind you, you smirk wickedly knowing your plan had worked. Cute little squeaks leave your mouth as you run throughout the house, narrowly trying to avoid being caught. He should’ve realized how much you like this. You’re much faster than him after all.

After rounding the next corner you wait a moment for him to catch up. Seeing a flash of fur and then you’re off. The Cat Hybrid pauses for a moment as he realizes what you had just done. What you’ve actually been doing this entire time.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he chases you at lightning speed. He’s catching up to you in no time and by the look of genuine alarm in your eye he knows this wasn’t a trick. Instead of his usual antics he pounces on you, sending you both tumbling to the floor.

“You messin’ with me, little mouse?” He growls in your ear, his body pinning you to the hard wood floor. You don’t even bother to squirm, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare up at him.

Before you can even blink he’s shoving his hand down your pants and swiping his fingers through your folds, your slick drenching them with how aroused you are. He chuckles lowly, rumbling purrs vibrating into your chest and straight to your core.

“So this has been a game to you, huh? A bit of foreplay before I inevitably snap and fuck you dumb.”

You find you can’t even answer, panting breaths escaping you as you rock with his hand that’s slowly rubbing against all the right places. He devilishly smiles and pushes two fingers deep inside you, causing your hips to jolt as you cry out.

“Well, sweetheart, you’ve done it. I’ve snapped,” he says with a menacing snarl as he pumps his fingers roughly against your walls, his claws just barely scraping them and setting your nerves on fire.

You try and be as good as you can, staying perfectly still for him as he fucks you with his fingers, but your small reaction only seems to infuriate him further. He picks up pace, licking and nipping at your throat until you too break and your moans echo throughout the empty house. A secret smirk plays on lips.

That is until the Cat Hybrid plays a trick of his own. Pumping his fingers inside you, drawing you closer and closer till you’re just about to fall off that edge when he suddenly stops and withdraws. You whine, squirming now as you begin to beg for more.

“I see through you now, sweet prey. You won’t be winning this one.”

You only start to realize your mistake as he starts fucking you with his cock, the large length stretching you so good. The natural curve hitting the soft spot inside you perfectly. Then he starts doing to you exactly what he did with his fingers. Bringing you up to the edge and then pulling you right back.

He’s as merciless as he is when terrorizing you and in a way he’s doing just that but in a whole new way that drives you more insane than the chasing ever did. Eventually you’re a sobbing mess, your tears and your arousal forming two separate puddles on the floor with how in need you are right now as he starts up again.

You jump as the sudden sensation of his wet nose nuzzling into your neck, his purrs even louder now. You immediately cling to him, meeting his thrusts and trying to chase your growing orgasm before it’s taken away again.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to cum for me now?” The Cat Hybrid asks and you whine, nodding rapidly.

You feel his grin against your skin before he pulls out and starts slamming his cock deep inside your cunt. His intent clear before he even says a word. But when he does it’s like music to your ears.

“I agree. Cum for me, mate.”

This time as you get closer and closer to the finish, he doesn’t stop. Instead, his hands slips down and rubs tight circles into your clit. Your orgasm breaks through almost instantly and you scream as you milk his cock for all it’s worth, sending him right into ecstasy with you.

But the sound of the car door doesn’t leave either of you much time to bask in pleasure coursing through you. Luckily the Cat hybrid takes the lead, maneuvering you both as he curls around you, keeping you stuffed full of his cock but hiding any of the evidence. You’re too weak to do anything but shift into how he molds you. Making it appear as if you two are asleep and cuddling in the hall.

“Aw, look at them. Finally getting along,” you hear your owners say who are none the wiser to what’s really going on.

Cat Hybrid bf rocks his hips, snapping them back inside you quietly and forcing a squeak from your throat. He chuckles under his breath and nuzzles into you, not planning on moving away from you for hours. Wondering how many more orgasms he can rip from your tight pussy.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

burnt toast, sunday / i wanna teach you how forever feels

katsuki bakugou x reader

the morning after a fight with katsuki. for the yail series ❄️

inspired by all of the girls you loved before

bakugou sat up, groaning a bit as his back ached. he looks around, hit with his surroundings. he slept on the couch, in the midst of the living room torn apart from arguing.

he knew you were probably still pissed at him. worst of all, he couldn't even fully recall why you two had been arguing the night before. he only remembered that it was really, really bad, and you had ended up locking him out of the bedroom. just the thought of not sleeping next to you hurt blonde’s chest.

he lets out a sigh as he got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. when he sits up, he sees you walk in.

he cringes slightly, seeing your puffy red eyes. you had been crying all night, probably.

“…hey.” you say, softly.

he grunts in response, his words unable to reach his throat.

its a sunday, a quiet morning to contrast a loud, abrasive saturday night. the two of you resolve to make coffee silently, only speaking when you need a spoon he’s standing next to or when he needs you to move so he can grab the sugar.

the silence felt incredibly awkward. the two of you just stood there, quietly making your own cups of coffee. the only noise in the room was the sound of the coffeemaker brewing. bakugou’s thoughts were a mess. he couldn’t believe the two of you had gotten in such a big fight, and he wasn't even entirely sure why it happened. but he knew he was probably at fault, he was the one with the explosive personality after all.

he curses at himself quietly when he realizes he grabbed two pieces of bread. he does that normally- one for you, and one for him. but right now, you’re pissed at each other. he’s a little worried that making two pieces of toast will be seen as a violent act of aggression.

he moves to grab plates, too absent minded to notice that the toast is now burning. you take it out for him. thats when he noticed you’re still wearing his shirt, even though you’re mad.

he picks up his phone and scrolls, trying to distract himself. thats when he remembers what the fight was about.

whoever it was that got ahold of katsuki bakugou’s dating history was really obsessed or really, really bored, maybe both. for whatever reason, his fans were now talking about all his previous partners, the good and the bad. and, because you’re dating a celebrity, they just have to question your worthiness to be dating the handsome and strong dynamight.

he feels his anger flare up as he doom-scrolls some more. it pisses him off, thinking about how people would so mindlessly say things. it pisses him off more that its getting to you. don’t you know that he loves you?

he has yet to do anything about it, to address his dating life and who he’s with now. truthfully, katsuki doesn’t feel like he should have to. his pr team already works overtime for his asshole-self, anyway.

he’s so distracted by his own thoughts, he fails to notice the way his elbow knocks over your mug, sending it shattering on the floor. maybe its the silence, but you honestly jump a little when it happens.

both you simply stand there at first, blinking. did he do that on purpose? no, he wouldn’t break his own mugs.

maybe he just wanted your attention.

nonetheless, you wave it off with a soft “its okay” before kneeling down and carefully cleaning up the shards. he’s silent as he gets down in front of you, helping you clean the mess he made.

he wants to tell you its okay, and that he’ll take care of it. he wants to tell you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. but this is the closest he’s physically been to you since the argument, and he wants to relish in it for a moment.

“are you still mad at me?”

he almost flinches when he hears your meek voice. why would he be mad at you?

“..what are you talking about, babe?” he sighs, his voice gruff.

he is mad, but not at you. mostly at himself for not seeing how the recent speculations about him had been bothering you.

“i don’t wanna repeat myself. i just… i don’t know. i know you don’t want me to care about what everyone else is saying, but, i do.” you admit, still on the floor in front of him. at this point, you’ve both forgotten about the coffee and the shards.

he can see how upset you are, and it makes his chest tighten. “yeah, well… i don’t want those shitty extras getting to you. even if what they’re saying is the farthest thing from the damn truth.”

he so desperately wants you to know that he loves you. that when he’s with you, he doesn’t think of all the times he woke up to someone else, feeling alone. he doesn’t think of late night arguments that left him feel empty. when he looks into your eyes, he’s reminded of everything he wants to protect.

but you don’t see that as clearly as he does. “i guess i just… wonder if you agree with them. you never say anything to address those rumours, about your exes. and its not your fault, i get you don’t want to get involved, but, still…”

bakugou’s heart twinges as you bring up those accusations. he hates that you wonder such things, that you wonder if he agrees with those rumours or not. he wants to reassure you that you are the one he loves, the only one he loves. but he knows you wouldn't believe him right now, especially since he's been acting so shitty towards you lately.

“damn it, dumbass, i just want you to know that i love you. not any of those other bitches.”

“i don’t like when you call them that, katsuki.” you correct him. he nods, though both of you should be used to his sailor tongue by now.

“they’re people you’ve loved before… and thats okay. sometimes i just wonder if you love me more. i know its stupid.” you sigh.

he finally gets the courage to hold your hand, his calluses gentle against your skin. “..i feel i shouldn’t have to say it, i guess. in my head, you’re the only damn person in the world who matters.”

“maybe i’m just insecure.” you chuckle, self deprecatingly. you’re both tired of the arguing, now. “you’re #1, you’re gorgeous… and i’m me.”

he looks at you like you’re a complete idiot for that.

he hated hearing you say those things about yourself like it was a bad thing, that you were just you.

“just you? you really think it’s a bad thing to be you, dumbass?”

he pulls you in tighter, wanting you to really hear what he says.

“you’re amazing, you're incredible. there’s no one else I want to be with. I don't want anyone else, just you. you’re way too good for me, [y/n], in more ways i can count.”

“…you really mean that?”

he scoffs, a beautiful smile on his face. “yeah, i mean it. i love you.”

you give him that smile he loves, the one that made him fall so deeply in love with you all those years ago. “thats all you had to say, kats.”

your past and his are parallel lines. he isn’t sure how he got so lucky. how, by some cosmic miracle, the starts aligned so he could intertwine with you. you’re all he needs.

he hugs you deep, burying his face into your neck. he loves how you smell, how smooth your skin is. theres bot much proof, but he sees enough in you. he feels enough when he holds you, his entire world in his arms.

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly for only you to hear. “you’re everything to me. i’m in love with you.”

your heart swells, ignoring the burnt toast and spilled coffee. you’re wearing his shirt, and he’s keeping his word. thats enough to make you melt, hugging him back, arms thrown around his muscular back. “i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have doubted you. i love you too.”

he pulls back slightly to kiss you, making sure you’re in front of him and that this is real. for once, he let’s go of all of his fears and his ghosts. you’re his best friend, the love of his life and every beautiful thing he loves. he hears it in the silence, on his way home, and in your voice.

“if anything, i think i’m grateful for everyone you’ve loved before.” you chuckle, face close to his. his blonde eyebrows knit in confusion. “what do you mean, babe?”

“because the people you love make who you are, even if you’ve only loved them for a moment.” you say, squeezing his hand. “all those dead-end streets led you to me.”

he pauses, strange look on his face when he realizes you’re right. all that fake love, the teenage heartbreak and pains he’s been through- it’s made him the man you love. all those breakups, those unsaid goodbyes, they’ve led him hear.

he huffs, and then smiles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“i wouldn’t change a damn thing, then.” he says. “it all led me to you, dumbass.”

you stroke his cheek affectionately, pressing a kiss to his temple. his eyes close when you do that, relaxing into your touch. everyone that he knew brought him hear. and now, he gets to know what forever feels like.

“and in the end, it doesn’t matter who loved you before.” you conclude. “cause i love you more.”

he almost laughs at how cliché it is, resigning to press kisses all over your face. “i love you more, i’m not arguing on that.” he says, holding you in his lap. he’s tough, and explosive, and “too good for all that clingy couple bullshit”. at least, thats what he lets the world believe.

you’re his, and he’s yours. he’s so god damn thankful for everyone you’ve loved before. ‘cause now he gets to love you 10x more.

[risuola]

YOU CRYIN'? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

You and Gojo know each other since high school, and since then, you also hate each other. He bites and you always bite back, the constant argument creates tension that everybody, except you two, seem to notice. One time you said too much, causing Gojo’s self-control to snap.

cw: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of bullying (Satoru is a meanie, ok?), overstimulation, enemies to lovers kind of vibe, I feel like the "you cryin'?" line in itself is a warning if you heard the dub version of it, reader discretion is advised — 1,4k words

» PART TWO

"You cryin'?", Satoru taunted, thrusting his hips relentlessly into yours, with a handful of your hair in his unforgiving grip. Standing behind you, with one hand digging into the supple flesh of your side to steady himself, he was pounding behavior into you.

You and Satoru Gojo have a history of never-ending venom-spitting and it's safe to say you hated the man and the man hated you with passion for years now. It started in high school, where you just couldn't stand how full of himself he was, looking at everybody from above as if he was so much better than everyone and yes, you are aware of how powerful of an individual he is but the arrogance that came with it was just unbearable. Much more you liked his closest friend Suguru, but as years passed, you found yourself working closely with Gojo more and more often, because you decided to stay at Jujutsu high in Tokyo to help students learn. You were strong enough to be considered a high 1st grade sorcerer and everything you achieved, you earned by hard work and stubbornness but that didn’t stop the know-it-all from bullying you, no. He had an awful habit of pouring more fuel into the constant fire of argument between you two and you never owed him, always biting back. That being said, your constant bickering with Satoru successfully brought you to where you were now.

Pressed against the wooden desk, sweaty and exhausted as your body was chasing the fourth orgasm with no break in between. It was a torture – the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt from overstimulation and burned with pleasure at the same time. You always acted tough, but now you couldn't stop the tear rolling down your cheek as his grip on your hair tightened and his teeth sank into the delicate skin between your neck and shoulder.

"You’re really cryin’”, he grinned teasingly and turned your head more to the side, kissing the tear away. Delighted at the sight, Satoru pulled back and flipped you over so he could see your pretty face when he pushed his girth back onto your swollen insides, kissing every oversensitive spot on his way while hooking your thighs over his hips. You dug fingers into his skin, leaving crescent moon shapes of your nails engraved into his flesh and you once again could feel his pace picking up. Naively, you grabbed at his hip, trying to slow him down but with no effect.

"So pretty, fuck, when you cry like that," he grunted, kissing along the salty trace on your face and down your neck to see the bruising mark of his teeth was already blooming with reds and purples. "Think you have few more in you?", he asked and the thought of few more orgasms terrified you. "You'll have to, 'm nowhere near to be done, wit' ya," a chuckle echoed in his chest and you couldn't tell if his objective was to kill you in the most humiliating way possible or what.

"N-no," you protested and he laughed once more, pulling out almost completely.

"No?", Satoru grined in his usual, annoyingly handsome manner but you barely saw him through the collage of stars in your sight, "'ts too bad you've been naughty lately. Need to fuck some behavior into you."

"Gojo-", you whined, helpless against his muscular body as he was ramming ruthlessly, abusing your swollen oversensitive insides to your limits.

"Nuh-uh", he wrapped his slender fingers around your throat, putting no pressure, but redirecting your head so you looked him in the eyes and you could drown in the crystalline blue tones surrounded by thick snowy eyelashes if you wouldn't know better. "That's not my name, sweetheart."

"Go to hell, Goj-, fuck", you whined and he thrusted harder, your back was slamming against the wooden counter but he was unbothered by the echoing pounding sound that clearly was indicating what was happening in his office.

"That's. not. my. name.", he growled, accentuating every word with a particularly sharp thrust and it was enough for you to drown in the haziness.

"Sa-, uh", you tried, but his pace was unforgiving, his cock fucking you dumb but he hummed teasingly, encouraging you to speak. "'toru- fuck. Satoru, please."

"There we go, wasn't that hard now, was it?", smiling, the sorcerer lifted you up, angling his hips upwards, his cock reaching even deeper although you thought it's impossible. The blunt head kissed every spot inside you and you felt another orgasm approaching. Satoru groaned at how your walls were flexing around his girth and this time, he chased his own, the first one, the one he's been denying himself in order to drive you insane.

He was panting heavily, groaning against your neck, profanities slipping through his mouth as he twitched inside you. Suddenly he grabbed you harshly, nails digging into your trembling thighs and he lowered himself on the expensive leathery chair, giving you a slap to the tender skin, silently ordering you to work. You straddled him, supporting your hands over his shoulders and you pushed him against the back rest, surely bruising his muscles with the harsh grip you had on him. You were desperate to finish him off, to put an end to the torture he’s subjected you to for talking too much. At this point you don’t even remember what caused his composure to snap, what has gotten you into the endless spiral of agonizing pleasure with a man you despised. The man that now you were riding with the last bits of your power, fighting the mind-numbing rush of your own release to bring him to his and you could tell how close he was. Satoru’s jaws were clenched, his fingers were digging harshly into the tender skin of your sides and his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His abs were flexing, cock was twitching and his tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined with endless amounts of fucks and yeses. His eyes closed shut and he threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed at his white hair, smearing open mouthed kisses all over his throat and collar bones, and your movements stuttered with your dripping pussy squelching for the nth time. That was enough for Satoru – he gave in, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled his load into you, filling you completely with warmth and you were quick to come right after him. Your ups and downs became sloppy, uneven as you slowly ride your highs out and finally, you raised your hips just enough to have him out.

Falling back heavily against his body, you leaned your head over his shoulder in hopes to calm the panting. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage, you felt the concoction of juices running down your thigh and dripping onto Satoru’s legs, but you couldn’t care less. With his hands releasing your flesh that he was squeezing unwaveringly, you felt your body finally relaxing, your mind coming back to senses and it slowly came to you, what just happened.

Never, not even once in your life, you considered even willing to kiss Gojo Satoru. Yes, he’s annoyingly handsome; yes, his eyes are the most beautiful, magical blue crystalline spheres nature could ever create, and yes – there was a tension between you two since the day you met him, or at least everyone around always pointed that out but you never truly considered him an option and yet, you not only kissed him, but spend god-knows-how-long fucking him – or rather being fucked by him.

“You have to misbehave more often”, he teased, finally able to form his words coherently and you looked at him, eyes still cloudy but you could tell with no mistake that his lips were curled up in a smirk. You almost heard him smirking, that’s how obvious it was. You blinked, clearing your vision to take in his view. Gojo’s face was blissfully tired, he still was breathing though his mouth and the snowy peaks of his hair clung artistically to his sweaty forehead. He was stunning like this, so fucked out, he looked like he’s high and you took few mental pictures of his handsome daze. You also noted to yourself that you, indeed, need to misbehave more frequently.

» PART TWO