#The way he tries so hard to keep all those emotions down but they just are just too powerful 🥺

[simplygojo]

I Like Your Tie...

A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.

Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name

The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.

But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.

There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 

—

You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 

You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 

But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.

As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.

There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.

And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.

There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 

Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.

But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 

The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.

—

His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.

“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.

“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.

Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 

“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 

“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 

The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.

"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.

Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.

“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”

Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.

“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.

The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.

The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.

“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.

His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.

Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.

His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 

"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 

His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.

His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.

He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.

Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."

Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 

His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.

The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.

“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.

He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.

“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 

Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 

With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.

“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”

You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.

"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.

You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”

The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 

“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.

You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.

“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”

His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.

The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”

His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.

Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace

His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.

Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.

“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 

The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.

“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.

“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”

His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.

Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.

Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”

Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 

"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.

“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.

Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”

With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."

He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 

His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 

“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 

Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”

[awriternamedart]

a collection of my middle aged man yaoi sampard headcanons -

Sampo has poliosis, a condition that can cause premature greying in areas on the scalp.

Gepard has lots of facial and body hair but it grows slowly because of their cold enviroment. His beard is a stopwatch for how long hes been on the frontlines that time around as he only gets to shave when hes at his home/stationed in the city.

Sampo has a few beauty marks n moles ! mostly on his back and shoulders.

Gepard has freckles! All the Landaus do!

Once Gepard scared the ever living shit out of Sampo because the Landaus have reflective eyes. So Sampo just saw two blue dots in his bedroom once and nearly fell out the window he climbed in through.

Gepard has piercings! Two simple lobe piercings, he only wears them when hes on break. (so like, never.) Serval pierced them for him when they were teenagers so its a little botched but he does his best to take care of them because their a fond memory of his sister. (He also owns a pair of studs for each of his sisters - a snowflake set for Lynx, and a music note set for Serval. Otherwise, simple black studs.)

Sampo has sideburns!! He tends to keep them trimmed well , since his appearence is a huge part of the show. Hes incredibly meticulous down to the last detail in order to sell it, and can spend up to two hours every morning making sure hes ready for the stage .

Gepard is an amputee. I need to update my arm lore doc but basic gist - his gauntlet is a prosthetic used to trap Fragmentum in his arm nub and uses that Fragmentum as a powersource for the Geomarrow to bounce off of and create the ice and mist he uses in battle. He still deals with phantom pain but most of the time it is soothed with his prosthetic - though it can still flare up horribly when overused.

Sampos really weak to being kissed on the nape of his neck, right where his hair is. Hes not quite sure why.

Gepards easy to blush but inCREDIBLY hard to fluster. Hes so used to keeping himself in check and in control that to catch him in any form of stupor is rare.

Related - Gepard struggles immensely when hes out of control of a situation and someone he is unfamiliar with or doesnt trust holds power over it. Hes so used to being in charge and being looked to and only having those he trusts as peers or over him in the power system that being thrown into that situation crawls under his skin in a /neg way. Physical vulnerabilty is also not easy and very stressful.

Quite the opposite for Sampo - emotional vulnerabilty ties this guy in KNOTS. Hes pretty open to touch (once your on his trust list and ONLY if your on the trust list) but youll have to drag him kicking and screaming if you want a glimpse at his actual thoughts.

also Sampo has a wheezy hyena laugh.

Gepard only has only one or two potted plants he tried to use as motivation to go home more often- it was a suggestion from Pela. But uh, yeah it didnt work. Hes a great cook though!

On the other hand- do not let Sampo within 5 meters of a kitchen. For your sake and his. (hes not that bad and can make enough to get by- but it really .. does not taste great ...)

Sampos not entirely sure how old he is, but Natasha figured he was somewhere in his late twenties early thirties when he arrived on Jarilo and hes kinda been rolling with that ever since.

Gepard overheats really easily when he gets off planet eventually. Like it is bad how easily he gets heatstroke.

Sampo uses his blades to pick at his teeth sometimes. Both Natasha and Gepard hate this .

Gepard has a nasty resting bitch face. Hes learned to be able to nullify it a little bit but when hes tired it drops back to usual and makes it look likes constantly about to murder someone.

On the plus side, this control over his expression means he plays a nasty game of poker! (or whatever the Jarilo 6 counterpart of poker is)

Sampo has on more then one occassion forgot that he has the ability to neutralize most of Belobogs cold and has wandered outside without his jacket. Many people looked at him like he was insane.

Gepard always cuts the sleeve right above his gauntlet implant and sews a new hem to keep it from getting caught in machinery.

Hook called Sampo Gramps once. He never recovered.

Gepards hair is slowly turning brown instead of greying! Sampo is infact, salty about this.

Gepard has three majorly noticable scars. He has frostburn on his flesh hand that wind up his arm, he has Fragmentum cracks that wind up his opposite shoulder (amputated arm)(inactive so it looks like scar tissue or a lightning scar rather then black or gold) , and an impact scar/explosion scar across his lower back. Other minor scars are shrapnel cuts and his knuckles being scarred from being a fistfighter. Also his nose is slightly crooked.

Sampo has done a damn good job at making sure he looks the part of the shifty businessman but he has a few marks of his own. Being an Emanator means he heals quickly- and can mask any scars and injuries he gets with relative ease - but he prefers to not rely on this aspect. His biggest scar is an ugly blade cut into his right shoulderblade, and its only so prominant because it struggled to heal properly.

Sampo is shorter the Natasha! Natasha is just tall !! She is shorter then Gepard who is the tallest among the Belobog cast but shes second.

In order of tallest to shortest of Belobog adults its - Gepard, Natasha, Sampo, Serval, Luka, Bronya, Seele. Sorry Seele.

The Landau eye color and color crest is so recognizable in Belobog that that shade of blue is called Landau Blue.

When Sampo has a difficult time sleeping, he wordlessly buries his face into Gepards neck, who simply begins to hum if hes also awake.

Gepard is a light sleeper- he wakes up very easily. Sampo is not. Gepard has had to fight an extremely sleepy Sampo to get up in the morning more times then he can count.

Gepard actually does have a good singing voice, its just that he has poor discipline and tries to match Servals octave. Which is. Way to high. He also has good rhythm!

This does not mean he is a good dancer.

He can get through on dancing, it being part of his upbringing and studies growing up, but he can only do what steps he knows. Any improv and he falters.

Sampo has in fact trust falled on Gepard multiple times. Once at Bronya and Seeles wedding. He basically forced Gepard to dip him.

Gepard is actually incredibly sassy. Its just that hes awful at inflection and everything comes across as matter-of-fact or dry as fuck. That, and he only dares to sass Serval most of the time- theres not many other people hes comfortable enough with to let loose that much.

When it comes to fishing out back alley deals, few are more knowledgable than Sampo. Even before the Trailblazers, Sampo and Gepard had an under the table deal where if Gepard was unable to crack a case alone, he could get information off Sampo in exchange for supplies and shield. He was not happy about this deal but he deemed it a necessity- for the sake of Belobogs safety.

Sampo would and still does anonymously tip the Guards off on major crimes that could severely impact Belobogs already fragile economy. Hes no saint , but he has his personal morals and he sticks to them.

Gepard had many sharp teef , lil fangies even ! but theyve been worn down over time.

Sampo also has lil sharp teef ! his are more snake fang like tho, thinner.

[nowritingonthewall]

I’m sorry 🥺

[heyjudeb]

I'm proud of you - Jude Bellingham

Summary: Comforting sad and defeated Jude after England's loss. Warning: Sad moment, comforting Words: <1k

The referee blows the final whistle.

It was over. England lost. It all happened too quickly. Spain scoring in the last minutes didn't even give us time to process the situation.

I was sitting in the stands with Jude's family. We all shed a tear once the Spanish players started celebrating. Seeing Jude go off to the bench and kick something was a heartbreaking yet scary sight for me. Instantly, I knew that was going to be a sight for the media.

He's not like that at all. He just really wanted this win. With people being all over him, critiquing him, he really wanted to prove them wrong, to make England proud. I couldn't be more proud of him, though. He achieved amazing things in this competition.

As I watched him from afar, I wished I could just run down and hold him, tell him it was okay. I knew how much he had invested in this tournament, how much he had sacrificed. His dedication and his passio were the qualities that made him extraordinary. Those were the reasons why I fell in love with him.

Feeling an overwhelming urge to be closer to him, I excused myself from his family and made my way down to the lower stands, closer to the field. As I approached the edge, I saw Jude pacing back and forth, his frustration evident in every step. When he finally noticed me, our eyes locked. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over.

With his help, I crossed the barrier and immediately fell into his arms, holding his head tightly into my neck. I could feel him shaking from all the emotions he was going through.

"I messed up," he muttered, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"No, you didn't," I said firmly, my hand gently running through his hair. "You were incredible, baby. You gave it your all." He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't enough. It wasn't fucking enough." "Hey," I cupped his face gently, putting my forehead against his. "Listen to me. You were amazing out there. You fought so hard, and everyone saw it."

He didn't know what to say. I could see he wanted to let go of everything he was feeling, but the words wouldn't come.

"Just stay calm, baby," I tried to comfort him, reminding him that losing is part of the game and keeping his composure is important. "You can use this to come back even stronger."

I knew my words might not have a big impact on him in that moment. It was all still raw and fresh for him, so I simply held him tighter in my arms. He pulled back slightly, his eyes still glistening. "I have to go, baby. They're going to do the ceremony."

"I know," I said softly. He kissed my forehead.

"I'll meet you afterwards," I told him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He nodded, giving me one last look before turning and walking towards his teammates. As I walked up the stands to where his family was, I felt a mix of pride and heartache.

After England had their moment, Jude walked up to us and hugged his family. They all expressed how proud they were of him, trying not to show any sadness in front of him.

He sat down with his head low. I gently lifted his chin, earning a small, faint smile from him.

"I'm sorry for disappointing you guys," he managed to say to them.

I sat on his lap, holding him close to my chest. It pained me to see him like this, unable to erase his sadness.

"You never disappoint us, Jude," his mom reassured him, holding his hand tightly.

I arrived at my hotel room feeling exhausted and heartbroken for Jude. He had to return to the hotel with the team. There was nothing I wanted more than to have him in my arms and try to ease his sadness, even just a little. I was about to get into bed after finishing my nighttime routine when I heard a faint knock on the door. I opened it to find Jude standing there, his shoulders slumped and a tired look on his face. "They told me it's okay," he said quickly, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bed.

He took off his shirt and sweatpants and collapsed onto the bed, pulling me with him. His head immediately rested on my chest as he hugged me tightly.

"It's going to be okay, baby," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his head and kissing his forehead repeatedly. "These bad feelings will pass, trust me."

I ran my fingers through his hair, knowing it helped him relax and fall asleep. I kept kissing his forehead and cuddling him until I felt his grip around my waist loosen slightly, indicating he had fallen asleep.

"You'll always be my champion, baby," I whispered softly." I love you so much, Jude Bellingham."

[harryspet]

ok but how would dark!Rafe react to the reader coming back to box with a baby she did not know she was pregnant with went she left? But since rafe was always too possessive she decided not to tell him that they had a kid 🙂‍↕️ they used to have some hook ups and was never a real commitment

[warnings] dark!rafe x reader, babydaddy!rafe, emotional/physical abuse, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.4k

“I’m here to pick up a cake. The name is Y/L/N,” You smiled at the young girl working behind the bakery counter as you bounced your toddler on her hip. You’d brought her stroller but Isla was beginning to insist on exploring whatever place you brought her to. You suffered, her weight on your hips, instead of dealing with another meltdown. She was an easy baby, you didn’t have too many sleepless nights when she was younger, but her mood had shifted over the past week.

She was more clingy, more irritable, and it was hard for her to understand that you were only staying on the island for a short time. The trip was brief, a week at most, but necessary. Your sister was getting married, the only reason you’d considered returning at all.

It had been over two years since you last walked these familiar piers, strolled past the charming beachside shops, or caught up with old friends and extended family. So much had changed in that time, not just in your life, but in this place that used to be home. 

“Give us just a few moments. We’re putting on some finishing touches.”

“No problem,” You nodded, still keeping your face pleasant. 

Isla was getting restless, so you decided it was time to let her down.

“Okay, Mama’s putting ya’ down, lovebug,” She was also walking a lot more and could usually walk a few feet on her own before falling. Simultaneously, you pushed her stroller out of the way while you helped her keep her balance with one arm, “Oooh, what’s that?” 

You were always asking her questions, wanting to keep a mental lexicon of all the new words she was using. You could barely keep track now. 

She was talking to herself, using the bakery counter to keep her balance as she walked. You smiled down at her, now able to fully focus on her, without that aching pain you felt on your side. You guided her away from reaching for a glass jar of candy, instead showing her over to a case that displayed a huge array of cookies. 

You heard the bell of the bakery door jingle, and instinctively, you looked up. For a moment, you froze, watching him stride in. Tall, commanding, if anything, time had only sharpened those edges. His face had hardened with the years, the boyishness you once knew replaced by something more formidable. His stature was wider, arms thicker, and chest pronounced. His hair, now buzzed short, added to the maturity that radiated from him, making him look even more intense than before. 

“I’ll take a black coffee. Make it an espresso,” You heard Rafe Cameron say. He hadn’t taken the time to look your way. Your instinct was to grab Isla and leave before he noticed you. Instead you turned your head and led Isla over to one of the cafe tables. 

Your mind was racing but you did your best to keep your movements calm. His voice had sent a chill down your spine and the last thing you needed was for him to notice you. He probably wouldn’t, you told yourself, since the last time he saw you, he didn’t even know you were pregnant. 

You tried to distract Isla by giving her one of her stuffed rabbits but her mood was shifting quickly. She wanted to look at all the baked goods through the glass and no toy would compare to that. Her lower lip started to tremble and as they did, you lifted her into your lap, “I know, baby,” You whispered but she arched her back, starting to wail, “Isla, not right now, please.”

You cooed at her and tried to rock her but now you were afraid you’d made the situation worse, drawn more attention to yourselves. 

“Y/N,” Rafe’s voice was low and you could already hear the disbelief. 

There was no way out of it. You’d been avoiding this exact confrontation and planned to never have to deal with this. When your eyes met with his, you thought of Isla, and kept her tight against you despite her protests. 

Rafe’s gaze bore into you, sharp and questioning, his eyebrow arched in a way that was both familiar and unsettling. His eyes flickered back and forth between you and Isla, trying to piece together the reality that had just unfolded in front of him. Then, with a heaviness that matched the tension in the air, he collapsed into the wooden seat beside yours. He seemed ...exhausted. He folded his arms over the table, his hands gripping the coffee cup as if it were the only thing grounding him.

Present blurred with the past, the intensity of his gaze pulling you back to memories you’d buried long ago. You thought of late nights, laughter and sneaking around. You remembered how he used to look at you, how he saw you at your most vulnerable and still made you feel cherished. 

“Rafe,” You finally spoke, slowly, “It’s been so long–”

“You weren’t ever going to tell me.” 

You swallowed hard, wondering how he had pieced it all together so quickly. Isla, still upset, stared up at Rafe with a mix of curiosity and fear, her small fingers tucked into her mouth. Even with tears streaming down her face, the resemblance was undeniable. She was a perfect blend of both of you—his eyes, your smile, a fusion of your skin tones and hair textures. Your carefully guarded secret was written all over her for him to see.

“No,” You said honestly, “My parents …I did it for them at first. They were concerned.”

“What? You think I’d hurt her or something. My own fucking kid?” He kept his voice at conversational level but the look in his eyes made it feel like it was yelling. 

“I didn’t know…you were so angry when we stopped hooking up,” You started to shrink which was exactly what you were afraid of, “And then when you got arrested …”

“Fuck,” Was all he said, “What’s …What’s her name?”

“Isla,” You answered.

“Isla,” Rafe repeated and for a moment, there was tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at her, “You were pregnant when you left?”

You nodded, “We’re just here for the rest of the week because of my sisters wedding.”

“Where do you live?” Rafe asked and this time you hesitated. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea …”

"I'm going to lay it out for you, Y/N," Rafe began, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze locked on you. "You're going to tell me where you've been living, everything you've been hiding from me these past two years. I want to know who you've been with, who you’ve spread your legs for, who you've let near my daughter. Then, the two of you are coming back to Kildare, and you're going to let me be a part of her life. No more secrets. No more running."

His demands, raw and unfiltered, made you feel a rush of emotions. Fear and anger settled over your features, “Rafe. It’s not …it’s not happening. It’s not about you or me. This is all for her.”

“I’m not letting you shut me out again. Do you understand that?” The young girl behind the counter called your name and you made a move to stand up but Rafe reached across the table to grab your arm. 

“We have to go and I need time to …to figure this out.”

He shook his head and you winced at the pressure he was putting on your skin. “Time? You’ve had two years, Y/N. Two years without me. You walk out of here, I will find you. You leave this island and I will search for you.” 

“This isn’t the place for this. Let me go,” You gritted your teeth. 

“You know what I’m capable of, right?” He eyed you sharply, unrelenting. You thought back to those happy memories. When things were good, they were incredible and when things were bad …You never had a label with Rafe and yet every guy you talked to that wasn’t him always seemed to end up injured or broke contact with you, “And things have changed around here. There are more lines, different lines, I’m willing to cross.”

You knew that coldness in his eyes, you’d seen it many times in the aftermath of his rage. “Rafe, please,” You whispered, “For Isla’s sake.”

“She’s mine and so are you.” You finally nodded, tears stinging your eyes, and he finally loosened his grip.

You made your way with Isla and her stroller back to the counter, collecting your sister’s wedding cake. As you reached your car, you glanced back, half-expecting Rafe to follow you. But he remained inside, watching you through the glass.

+

hope you enjoyed!!

[featki]

Stages of a petty dispute !

— pairing: 西村力 x reader (both members of enha) — contains: angst, fluff, crack if you squint so exponentially hard, talks of dieting/body image issues, ni-ki‘s dumb and oblivious, fighting, pettiness, think that’s it !

The cause

Getting your hair and makeup done was boring, but Riki came along every time (wether you asked him to or not) so at least he was there to keep you company

Riki and Jake both sat on the couch showing each other stupid things on there phones and play fighting

At one point you and Riki had gotten into a conversation Mainly complaints from you about how unfair the manager was to you about dieting, Riki being Riki took this as a chance to make a joke. "Well maybe you should stop eating so much and he wouldn’t be so tough on you" He laughed, pretty loudly despite the joke not being funny, you looked at him through the mirror, almost disgustedly, just to see Jake not laughing either.

If anything he looked just as confused as you, but despite that Riki smoothly changed the subject and started joking around with Jake again. You turned back to the mirror, not looking at anything in it, simply spacing out. Riki had never made those types of jokes about you, he always talked about your body in such a sweet way, it was shocking to say the least.

2. The start

Workday was done, you were back at the dorms, and Riki was nowhere in sight.

He was probably in his room playing video games, as you could tell from the loud gun noises. Meanwhile, you sat in your room, confused and slightly heartbroken he would say something like that.

It had been hours since the incident and it’s all you’ve thought about. Riki, out of all people should know that wasn’t funny. Joke or not. Out of all people, HE would know about your image issues HE would be the one to know about your eating habits, The phone chimed, pulling you out of thought, it was Riki

"Babbbbyyyyyy can i come lay with you

i’m tired and i want to hold you" You wanted to say no fuck off but you didn’t, that would’ve been too straight forward and you wanted to be petty and drag it out. Make sure he felt realllllyyyy bad so you texted back "Not rn, i’m studying" Dry and assertive. Not at all how you text him usually, it was perfect !! "mmm okay :("

"can i come in after?? pretty plsss" You just ignored this one

It made you feel a litttlee guilty but he deserved it for being an ass

3. The rising emotions / tension

It had been 2 days since you've started ignoring Riki (kinda)

You were only answering his texts here and there and you hadn't let him sleep with you not even once.

Sure it was only 2 days but it was too much for him, he got used to sleeping with you, and he struggles to fall asleep without you now! You even locked the door just in case he tried to come in after being ignored over the phone

Riki started to get suspicious

He presumed the worst, you fell out of love, you were cheating, he did something wrong without realizing it, he didn't know what he did, but he intended to find out

But it's kinda hard when you won't stop dodging him

Night 3 of being ignored, and it got increasingly harder for him to sleep

It was 1am and he hadn't been able to properly keep his eyes shut for longer than 5 mins so he decided to get some water

When he walked out to the kitchen he saw you, wearing only his t-shirt, some shorts and a jacket

He loved seeing you in his clothes so it was like a jab to the heart

he almost got on his knees and started begging for forgiveness for whatever he did right then and there

"What are you doing up so late baby?" You looked up to see him walking towards you "Just getting some water"

"Ohh me too" It came out kind of shaky sounding, like he was trying to make small talk with a stranger

"Here have mine" Putting the glass down you started to walk off, not noticing Riki's hand reaching out for your wrist, just barely missing you.

While you went back to your room Riki sat in the kitchen kind of hurt.

He pondered on going after you but the last thing he wanted to do was annoy you or upset you more so despite the need for physical connection, he drank the water and went back to his room.

He laid in bed for another hour before giving up and playing some video games to pass the time

Riki got a solid 3 hours of sleep that night

Riki is dying and is determined to figure out what he did

4. The climax

Day 4 of being ignored, he felt like he was going to pull all his hair out

During dance practice he thought of every thing he did that could warrent this type of reaction and every way he could fix it

After thinking for a while he came to the conclusion that he must've made you jealous, probably from talking to Danielle for 0.2 seconds regarding work things

How? He had zero clue but that didn't matter.

After practice while everyone else went to lunch, he booked back home to shower and head out. He ran to your favorite cafe, and your favorite boba shop.

By the time he got back home, everyone else, including you, were back home, and he already thought about what he was going to say when he got back; sure you had gotten jealous before but it never seem to make you this upset so he had to go all out this time.

He knocked on your bedroom door, hoping you'd actually let him in this time, "who is it?"

"Riki" There was a moment of silence that made Riki worry even more but you told him to come in so he was relieved but, you were confused when he walked in with boba and bags.

You thought maybe he was finally apologizing, perhaps he finally realized what he did and wanted to own up to it.

You put down your phone and walked over to him, as he put the boba and bags on your desk. He seemed a little more nervous the closer you got but he took a deep breath in and started talking

"I know I messed up, and you don't have to forgive me but I want to make it right." Good start good start

"I don't want anyone but you baby, I mean I barely even talk to her. It was purely for work I promise." Huh

"But I completely understand your upset, and you have every"

"What" You cut him off mid-sentence, mainly just cause you were confused

"uhh what?" Riki though, seemed more confused than you

"What are you on about Nishimura"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, you're mad at me?"

"Obviously."

"And I'm trying to apologize?" He seemed unsure of himself

"Okay... for what?" He thought long and hard about his answer "Talking to Danielle the other day?..." DUMBFOUNDED

You couldn't believe that's what he genuinely thought you were upset about

"Bro I do not care about Danielle." emphasizing the "not"

Riki's eyes widened with confusion "Haha what."

"You didn't seriously think I was upset about you talking to Danielle? About work?" He gave a sheepish smile

"I'm sorry baby I really don't know what I did but I can NOT handle being ignored like this."

"The eating joke Riki. How do you not understand that, that wasn't okay." It's like the gears started turning in his head "OHHHHH"

You rolled your eyes "Oh my god baby I am so sorry."

"You laughed when other people make those jokes so I assumed it was okay..."

"No it's not okay Riki?? I only laugh because they're my bosses, I'm not allowed to be upset about it"

It took Riki a second to process and think, "I know I know, I'm realizing that now. Seriously I am so sorry baby... I clearly wasn't thinking it through and it was a horrible joke to make."

You nodded, verbally telling him to go on

"You don't have to forgive me, I know it was shitty but just know that I didn't mean it, baby."

He walked closer to you, putting his hands on your face, "You are the prettiest girl in the entire world, and I mean that. I never meant to hurt you that much baby, and I promise I won't ever make a joke like that again. And I'll think more thoroughly about the things I say, the last thing I want to do is upset you pretty."

You looked up at him, your eyes glossed over slightly.

What Riki did was wrong, but deep down a part of you knew he didn't mean it.

And he was so good at making you feel better.

You got on your tippy toes and kissed him.

It was deeper than usual, the lack of time together made it sweeter

Riki pressing into your lips and savoring every last second.

"I love you so so so so much."

"I love you too Ki. And I'm not mad at you, it just... was shocking? To say the least, I didn't expect it from you of all people, nor did I expect you to take 4 days to apologize" You smiled slightly

"But in the end, you did apologize and you took accountability so that's all that matters. Next time I'll come to you first without ignoring you for days, it was petty."

"No no it wasn't petty" He rubbed your cheek "But please don't do it again, iv got like a solid 10 hours of sleep the past few days and I almost threw myself off the HYBE building." You giggled at that, happy to hold him again

Riki went back in for another kiss which led to a long night of catching up.

Kissing, cuddling, "I love you"s, ect ect, gross couple stuff.

Riki was dumb sometimes and wasn't the best at using his words, but he always tried for you and even showed it in his own way and that's all that matters.

@ featki

[selfloverrrrrr]

hii can i request Pervert gojo finally losing control and nonconing reader after she finds him jerking off with her panties. I’m talking pushing her down on the bed, threating to cum inside her with her begging him not to cause she’s not on birth control only making him go harder. An age gap would be pretty hot as well

Pervert Teacher

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Gojo's POV

"Am I being a pervert?" I questioned myself. I'm her sensei. Yes I am obsessed with y/n. But never let anyone know that. Not even her. I always stalk her everywhere. I know she's my student. I know she has a crush on Yuji. But I won't let her confess to him. Because she's mine! I don't like if someone touches what's mine!

Whenever she's on a mission I went in her room. See her stuffs. I steal her pantie. Does that makes me pervert? I don't care if it does... She's mine... and I'm gonna make her mine one day!

It was a normal day. I just came back home. I went to the bathroom and took a bath. I came back to my bedroom. I got dressed. I was about to close my closet when I noticed y/n's pantie. Fuck! Every time I see those I get hard. I didn't have any work to do...so why not please myself?

I unzipped my pants and took the pantie. Fuck, my dick was already hard. I wrapped her pantie around my dick. This thing always touches her pussy. I'm gonna get her pussy wrapped around my dick too soon.

I stroked myself. "F-fuck" a moan escaped my mouth. I imagined y/n. Begging me to let her suck my cock. Her small mouth trying to take my dick in. I imagined her little juicy tongue licking the tip of my dick. I keep stroking myself.

I imagined her getting wet by trying to suck my dick. How she'll beg me to fuck her and make her cum. The way she calls me sensei.... And I'll fuck her hard. Spank her. Will fuck her so hard she'll never forget who she belongs to... I imagined all those nasty things and kept stroking myself until I heard my bedroom door open. "Y/n?" I said and tried to pull up my pants to cover myself.

Y/n's POV

I was talking with Nobara on call. "Yes yes I know it was so funny" I said. "I know right" Nobara said from the other side. "Btw girl....did you give sensei his card back that he gave us for shopping yesterday?" Nobara asked. "Oh shit... I forgot! I'm gonna give him back right now" I replied. "Okey then... gonna talk later " Nobara said and the call ended.

I went to Gojo sensei's room. I was about to knock but saw the door was open. I went inside. "Sensei?" I called his name. But no answer came. I heard some noise coming from his bedroom. I looked at the direction. I saw light coming from there. "Sensei must be there" I said and went towards the bedroom.

I opened the door. "Sensei your card-" but I got shocked. "Ahhh... f-fuck y/n don't stop" I saw him moaning while he was stroking himself. Eyes closed. And moaning My name?! He opened his eyes when he heard my voice. "Y/n?" He said and tried to cover himself pulling up his pant.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't.." I was speaking then my eyes went to his other hand. Which was holding a pantie? I recognised it. That was mine.... one of those which were Missing from my closet. My eyes went back to him. I saw him staring at me. He knew I understand what was happening.

I started going back. "I-I'm sorry...." I said and turned around to get out. When I turned around he was standing in front of me. I knew he can teleport himself. He was staring at me again. "You know it now... right ?" He asked with a smirk. "W-what" I said. I started back up inside his bedroom and his was walking towards me. "Don't try to be innocent.... I know that you understood it....my six eyes are telling me it" he said. "N-No... I don't ..... P-Please " I said. He looked at me and smiled.

Suddenly he grabbed my waist and threw me on the bed with him top of me. I screamed. "Lying to your teacher,huh?" He said. "Please sensei I don't know... please let me go" I begged. "I know that you know....that means can't let you go" he replied mockingly. He pressed his lips on mine. He kissed me. he forced his tongue inside my mouth. I slapped on his chest to stop him. But he didn't.

Then he pulled away. I gasped. I was breathing heavily. When I looked at him he already stripped himself out of his shirt. "I almost edged myself when you came in here... Now you should please me better " he said and ripped off my shirt. "Nooo....stopp!!!" I sobbed. "Still not wearing a bra, huh? Or were you wishing for me to rape you?" He whispered with a smirk.

"no no no.... please let me go!!!" I sobbed. Gojo kissed me again. He grabbed my boob and started squeezing it and I moaned in the kiss. Hearing my moan Gojo stopped the kiss and crashed his mouth on my breast. I moaned out loudly. He started sucking on my breast roughly. The more I moan the more roughly he sucks and  squeeze on my breasts.

He pulled away. He was still staring at me. I was trying to get away but he was locking my legs with his own legs. He ripped off my skirt and pantie. I heard an unzipping sound. He unzipped his pants again. Now I started crying. He smirked when he saw me crying. He stroked himself. It was huge. Was he going to fuck me now?!

He came on top of me again. Then he rubbed his dick on my clit. I moaned slightly. "Now spread those legs wideeeee for sensei ~" he whispered in my ear. " No no no!!!! I'm gonna tell everyone!!! I'm gonna tell this to everyone.... everyone will hate you!!!" I screamed. He pushed his whole length in one slide. "Go, tell them.... I. Don't. Care." He replied.

"ahhhhhhh.... pull out!!! Please pull out!!! It's too big.... I...I can't!!!!!!!" I sobbed and begged. "Shhh....be a good slut for sensei and please him" he said and started thrusting in and out. I screamed for help. "Nobody's gonna help you, slut....just accept it" he whispered in my ear and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was liking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight.....oh fuck ...oh fuck.... it's even better than I thought it would be" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. He choked me down to the bed. "Now look at me when I cum inside you" he said statistically. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength.

" Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside..." I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Shhh.... shut up and just fucking take what I'm giving you." He screamed still thrusting roughly. "P-Please no.... I'm not on birth control....please don't" I begged sobbingly. I felt him going more rough after hearing it. And I sobbed more. "That's even better... I'm gonna mark you as mine...none will dare to touch you" he said with an evil laugh. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. My vision was almost blurred out.

"wake up quick, darling.... I have to do it again ~" he whispered in my ear.

Give me your requests guys...

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[girlkisser13]

taste

"well, i heard you're back together and if that's true" "you'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you"

pairings: theodore nott x slytherin afab!reader

warnings/tags: cheating.

summary: it just supposed to be a situationship.

the summer had been a whirlwind of emotions, sneaky rendezvous, and stolen kisses. it was a memory now, fading with the warmth of the sun as autumn crept in, the cool breeze blowing through the stone corridors of hogwarts. but as the leaves turned golden and red, and the castle filled once more with the chatter of students returning for the new school year, one thing remained vivid and sharp in your mind: theodore nott.

you had spent almost every day with him over the summer, your bodies tangled together in the sweltering heat, sharing secrets and laughter under the stars. he had been everything you never thought he could be— gentle, sweet, and completely yours. at least, that’s what it had felt like. the outside world didn’t matter when you were together. it was just the two of you, and nothing else seemed real.

but now that you were back at hogwarts, everything was different. the castle walls that had once seemed so familiar now felt confining, oppressive. it didn’t help that theo had slipped back into his old life as if the summer had never happened. as if you had never happened.

you watched from the shadows as he walked through the great hall, his arm draped casually over pansy parkinson’s shoulders. she was laughing at something he’d said, her dark eyes shining with adoration as she looked up at him. and theo… he looked every bit the part of the perfect boyfriend. he was smiling down at her, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

you swallowed hard, turning away from the sight, your stomach twisting with something you refused to call jealousy. you had known this would happen. He had warned you. when school started again, he would go back to his life with pansy, his girlfriend, the girl everyone expected him to be with.

but knowing it and seeing it were two different things.

you tried to avoid him as much as possible, keeping to the back of the classrooms, sitting far from the slytherin table in the great hall. you even skipped out on the first few gatherings in the common room, not wanting to see him with her, not wanting to see the way he looked at her with those familiar eyes that had once only been on you.

but, of course, you couldn’t avoid him forever.

it was during potions that it happened. professor snape was droning on about the properties of some obscure ingredient when theo slipped into the seat beside you, his presence sending a jolt of electricity through your body. you kept your eyes on your cauldron, refusing to acknowledge him, but you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

"are you just going to ignore me all year?" he asked, his voice low, barely a whisper.

you clenched your jaw, your hands trembling as you stirred the potion in front of you. "what do you want, theo?"

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i just wanted to talk. you’ve been avoiding me."

you finally turned to look at him, your eyes narrowing. "can you blame me? you’ve been glued to pansy’s side since we got back."

his eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you’d spent the summer with, the one who had held you close and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. "you know why i have to."

you bit back the retort that sprang to your lips, knowing it would do no good. you did know why. you knew all the reasons he had to be with her, to keep up appearances, to play the part of the dutiful boyfriend. but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

"whatever, theo. it doesn’t matter." you turned back to your potion, ignoring the way your heart clenched in your chest.

he reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you almost pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. "it does matter," he whispered, his voice strained. "you matter."

you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry. "if i mattered, you wouldn’t be with her."

there was silence, and then, "it’s not that simple."

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "it never is, is it?"

snape’s voice cut through the tension, snapping at someone across the room, and you took the opportunity to pull your hand away, focusing on the potion in front of you. you didn’t look at theo again for the rest of the class, and when the bell rang, you were the first to leave, not even waiting to clean up your station.

you needed space. space to breathe, to think, to forget the way his touch had sent shivers down your spine, the way his words had made your heart ache.

but space was hard to come by at hogwarts, and avoiding theo became even more difficult as the weeks went on. you’d catch glimpses of him in the corridors, his hand entwined with pansy’s, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple. it was like a knife to the heart every time, but you kept your head down, kept to yourself, and tried to focus on anything other than the boy who had stolen your summer and then shattered it.

it wasn’t until a hogsmeade weekend that things came to a head.

you were browsing through the shelves of honeydukes, looking for something to satisfy your sweet tooth, when you saw them. theo and pansy were at the counter, pansy laughing as theo tried to haggle with the shopkeeper over the price of a box of chocolates. you rolled your eyes, turning away from the sight, but not before you saw him glance over at you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment.

you could see the guilt there, the regret, and it made your blood boil. how dare he look at you like that, like he was sorry for something he had done to you, like he hadn’t been the one to walk away?

you grabbed a handful of sweets and marched up to the counter, slapping them down beside theo’s chocolates. pansy turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing as she recognized you.

"well, well, if it isn’t the little lost lamb," she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "what are you doing here, all alone?"

you forced a smile, ignoring the way theo tensed beside her. "just enjoying a bit of freedom, pansy. not everyone needs a boyfriend to hold their hand everywhere they go."

her eyes flashed, and you knew you had struck a nerve. she had always been possessive of theo, even before they had started dating. it was one of the things that had made sneaking around with him so dangerous— and so thrilling.

"maybe not, but at least i have one," she shot back, her lips curving into a smirk. she glanced at theo, her fingers curling around his arm. "right, darling?"

you had to hand it to her; she knew how to play the game. but so did you.

you leaned in closer, your eyes locked on hers as you dropped your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "you might want to check your boyfriend’s lips before you kiss him next time, pansy. he seems to have a thing for my strawberry lip gloss."

her face went pale, her eyes widening as she turned to look at theo, who was staring at you with something like horror in his eyes. she blinked, confusion and anger warring on her face as she looked back at you.

"what the hell are you talking about?" she snapped, her voice wavering.

you shrugged, stepping back and slipping a few sickles onto the counter for your sweets. "just a friendly piece of advice."

and with that, you turned on your heel and walked out of the shop, your heart pounding in your chest, a sick sense of satisfaction swirling in your stomach. you knew you had probably just signed your own death warrant, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

it was time theo made a choice.

[mandarinmoons]

this has been making the rounds so i have to ask... could you do a quick blurb of reader with spencer during this interaction and they had been bickering before in the car (im sniffing enemies to lovers). once that guy says that she just BURSTS out laughing and can't stop even after spencer tells her to stop, but at this point tears are coming down her face. spencer wants to be mad (bc hello! enemies) but honestly he's just so down bad, he loves that this makes her smile/laugh. (woah that was cheesy, gonna go take a lactaid). thank youuuuu 💕😘

https://www.tumblr.com/tomcriuse/756127032794136576

I love your mind for this x

“You’re like a pipe cleaner with eyes. I could snap you like a twig.”

Spencer felt his eardrum possibly bursting due to the laugh that roared from your mouth. His eyebrows knitted in confusion as you hunched down, practically hugging your knees to your chest as you tried to calm down your breathing.

“It’s not that funny,” Spencer wanted to sound coarse, but he had a hard time hiding the slight chuckle that came from his mouth. He wanted to be annoyed, but a not so small part of his heart swelled with joy whenever he saw you laugh and to know that he was the one bringing out those happy tears, he was an overjoyed man indeed.

The man that had been questioned shut his door in confusion and Spencer grabbed your arms lightly to try and help you stand up. A second later you brushed his hands off and Spencer sighed on the inside as you two went back to the way things were before you started questioning the local.

Clearing your throat, you strode off to the car leaving Spencer looking at you as you walked off. His feelings were mixed up, just 10 minutes ago you two had been bickering over if Spencer had taken the right turn down the road or if he’d managed to make you both get lost (again) and now here he was, admiring the confident strut in your walk and remembering the little hairs that frame your face that you always pushed behind your ear that he found oh so adorable.

“Are you coming or not?”

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts when he heard you call out for him. What was a beautiful smile adoring your face had now turned into a tight lipped, and dare he say, annoyed stare. How your emotions managed to change so quickly was beyond him, but he nodded and jogged his way to you to keep up.

What felt like an eternity of silence, Spencer’s ears perked up when he heard a light chuckle coming out of your mouth.

“The rest of the team is so going to hear about this.”

“Y/N, c’mon now, it’s not that funny.”

“Is it not, pipe cleaner?”

Spencer felt his blood boiling, but he instantly cooled down when he saw your smile return and more giggles come out of your mouth. Suddenly all the anger he had felt the entire day had disappeared and it was all thanks to the sound of your laughter and the sweet smell of your perfume, which the scent of seemed to have an even tighter hold on him with every inch he got closer to you.

Whether he liked it or not (but internally he loved it) your perfume had lightly gotten on his hands as he tried to help you up and as he laid in bed late at night, even with washing his hands as thoroughly as he always does, the scent still lingered on his skin and he fell asleep with you in his thoughts and (finally) in his dreams.

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[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter one of four!

wc. 6.8K

↳ part 2

At Jujutsu High, power was everything. It determined your place, your worth, and sometimes even your fate. And you, a second-year student with a cursed technique so insignificant that no one ever seemed to remember your name, found yourself lingering in the background. It wasn’t by choice, but you’d grown accustomed to it. After all, how could someone like you stand out when surrounded by others like Yuji Itadori and Megumi Fushiguro?

Your cursed technique wasn’t something anyone would envy. It barely held up in combat situations, more suited for distractions or temporary barriers. Compared to the raw physical strength and resilience of Itadori or the strategic mastery of Megumi, your abilities felt… lacking. As a result, you were often overlooked, blending into the scenery like another unremarkable stone on the path.

But there was one person who never blended in. Satoru Gojo.

The first time you met him, you were overwhelmed by his sheer presence. His easy smile, the lazy confidence in his voice, and those striking cerulean eyes hidden behind his blindfold. He was untouchable—both in power and in personality. Students revered him, teachers respected him, and the world feared him. And you, much like everyone else, were drawn to him.

You told yourself it was admiration at first. How could you not admire the strongest sorcerer alive? But over time, admiration twisted into something deeper, something more dangerous. You began to notice the subtle ways his hair would fall into his face when he tilted his head, the low chuckle in his voice when he made some sarcastic comment. His casual dismissals toward the world around him only made you more curious, more desperate to be seen by him.

But Gojo was always preoccupied—teaching, fighting, keeping the balance between the worlds of curses and humans. And you… you were invisible in his orbit. A flicker in the corner of his eye that never quite caught his attention.

You started to resent how your heart quickened every time he entered a room, how your thoughts always drifted to him when you were supposed to be training. And yet, there was nothing you could do. He was untouchable, after all. Out of reach in every way. You told yourself over and over that your feelings were foolish, that they would pass. But they didn’t.

Instead, something began to change.

It started as a tightness in your chest—a strange pressure that made it hard to breathe. At first, you thought it was just nerves, the result of constantly being on edge around Gojo. But the tightness grew worse. Every glance at him sent sharp pangs through your lungs, each breath becoming more labored. You tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it was nothing.

Then the petals began.

The first time it happened, you coughed violently in the privacy of your dorm room, spitting up something soft and delicate. When you looked down, you saw it: a small cerulean petal lying in your palm, shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Hanahaki. The name came to you like a curse, like something you’d only heard about in stories. A disease born from unrequited love, where feelings rooted so deeply in your heart that they grew into flowers, slowly suffocating you from the inside out.

You couldn’t believe it at first. You stared at the petal, trembling, hoping it was a mistake. But the next day, another petal came, and then another. Each time you saw Gojo, the flowers in your lungs bloomed more violently, until your chest ached with the weight of it.

You couldn’t tell anyone. How could you? How could you explain to your classmates, to Gojo, that your cursed technique wasn’t the only thing making you weak? How could you admit that your body was betraying you, all because of feelings you were never meant to have?

So you did the only thing you could—you hid it. You avoided Gojo as best you could, keeping your distance, hoping the flowers would stop growing if you just ignored them. But every stolen glance, every overheard laugh, every fleeting interaction only made it worse.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this. Sooner or later, the petals would consume you entirely. But the idea of confessing… of letting Gojo know how you felt, terrified you. He would never return those feelings. Why would he? You were just a shadow, a forgotten student with a weak cursed technique, not someone worthy of his attention.

And yet, as another petal fell from your lips, you realized that you were running out of time.

The question wasn’t whether you would confront your feelings. It was when. And what would happen when the strongest sorcerer in the world finally noticed the weakest in his shadow?

You had always been good at keeping secrets. It was easy, blending into the background, letting others take the spotlight while you remained unnoticed. But this—this was different. The weight in your chest had grown unbearable. Every breath felt like inhaling thorns, each cough delivering a fresh bloom of cerulean petals into your hand. The once delicate flowers now felt like lead lodged in your lungs, suffocating you from the inside out.

You needed help, and there was only one person who could provide it.

Shoko Ieiri.

The walk to her office felt impossibly long, every step weighed down by hesitation. Shoko had always been approachable, if not slightly aloof. You respected her for her skill as a healer, and for her unflappable demeanor. If anyone could help you understand what was happening—or at least buy you some time—it was her.

As you arrived, you hesitated outside her door, clutching a fistful of crumpled petals in your pocket. You knocked softly, your heart thudding louder than the sound of your knuckles against the wood.

“Come in,” came her voice, calm and indifferent as always.

You entered, trying to steady your breathing as much as possible. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and incense, a strange combination that somehow fit her perfectly. Shoko sat behind her desk, sipping from a cup of coffee, her eyes tired but alert as they glanced up at you.

“You look like hell,” she remarked bluntly, setting her mug down. “What’s up?”

You swallowed, the sharp taste of petals lingering on your tongue. “I need your help… with something.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, gesturing for you to take a seat. “Alright. Spill it.”

You sat down, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and desperation swirling in your stomach. For a moment, you considered lying—telling her it was something minor, something fixable. But the weight in your chest reminded you that this wasn’t something you could ignore any longer.

“I… I think I have hanahaki,” you said quietly, pulling the crumpled petals from your pocket and placing them on the table between you.

For the first time since you entered, Shoko’s expression changed. Her usually indifferent gaze sharpened, and she leaned forward slightly, examining the petals with a frown.

“You’re sure?” she asked, though the answer was obvious. The vibrant blue petals spread out on her desk, a damning confirmation of the truth.

You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. “I’ve been coughing them up for a while now. It’s getting worse.”

Shoko let out a long sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Hanahaki… it’s rare. Most sorcerers don’t deal with it because they’ve got other things to worry about. But I’ve seen it before.” She sat back in her chair, folding her arms. “You know what this means, right?”

You nodded again, your throat tightening. You knew exactly what it meant. The disease would continue to progress, the flowers growing more and more until they either filled your lungs entirely, or until you did the one thing you were terrified to do—confess. Only then would the blooms wither, depending on whether or not your feelings were returned.

But you also knew that the latter was not a possibility.

Shoko seemed to sense your thoughts. “There’s no cure for hanahaki, other than—well, you know. Confession. And even then, there’s no guarantee it’ll work. You could still…”

Die. She didn’t say it, but you both knew it was an option on the table. An unspoken shadow hovering between you.

You felt a sharp pang of fear, but forced yourself to remain calm. “Is there any way to slow it down? I don’t know if I’m ready to…” Your voice trailed off.

Shoko leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temple. “I can give you something to ease the symptoms—numb the pain, make it easier to breathe—but it’s just a band-aid. The flowers will keep growing. You can only delay the inevitable.”

A heavy silence fell between you as you processed her words. You had expected this, but hearing it confirmed still made the weight in your chest tighten. Delaying the inevitable was all you could do. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

After a long pause, Shoko spoke again. “You should tell him, you know. The person you’re in love with.” Her voice was soft, unusually gentle for someone so pragmatic. “It might be the only real solution.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at her, wide-eyed. “I can’t. He—he wouldn’t…” You stopped yourself, not wanting to say it out loud.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, her gaze narrowing slightly. “He wouldn’t what? Listen? Understand? Or are you just scared he won’t feel the same?”

Her words cut deep, but you couldn’t deny the truth behind them. You were terrified. Terrified of Gojo’s reaction. Of his inevitable rejection. He was too far above you, too unreachable. Confessing your feelings would only cement your insignificance in his eyes.

"It’s Gojo," you finally admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper, the name heavy on your tongue. You looked down, unable to meet Shoko’s eyes, the weight of your confession settling between you like a secret that had been waiting too long to be spoken.

"He’s the one I…" Your voice caught, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotions from spilling over. "He’s the one causing the hanahaki. I’ve loved him for so long, and he never noticed. And now…" You trailed off, your chest tight with the familiar ache, knowing that simply saying his name wasn’t enough to change anything, but it was the truth you had been hiding, and now it was out in the open.

Shoko’s expression darkened as she watched, her hands folding together in thought. "You should have come sooner," she murmured, moving to grab a few supplies. "You’re lucky it’s still early enough that we might be able to manage the symptoms."

She began to work, carefully checking your vitals and preparing something to dull the pain. "There’s no cure for hanahaki except—" She paused, giving you a knowing look.

"I know," you said quietly, avoiding her gaze. The cure—having the love reciprocated, or undergoing surgery that would remove the flowers but erase your feelings entirely. The thought of forgetting Gojo completely... it hurt almost as much as the disease itself.

"I can give you something to slow it down," Shoko said finally, handing you a small vial. "But it won’t stop the petals from blooming. You need to deal with this, one way or another."

You nodded, taking the vial with shaky hands. "Thank you," you whispered, though it felt hollow. No remedy could fix the real problem.

As you left the room, Shoko’s words echoed in your mind. You knew the truth—there was no escaping this. Not without facing your feelings for Gojo head-on. But how could you, when you were nothing more than another faceless student to him?

The petals continued to bloom, their cerulean hue a constant reminder of the love that would never be returned.

The days blurred together, one petal after another blooming in your lungs. The nosebleeds were no longer occasional—they came daily, seeping through tissues and staining your hands with the undeniable proof of your condition. You tried to ignore it, to act like everything was fine, but the fatigue was becoming too much to bear. Each breath felt heavier, and the tightness in your chest was growing more unbearable by the day.

Shoko’s office became a second home. Every time you felt the blood creeping toward your nose or the cough rising in your throat, you found yourself standing at her door, face pale and eyes pleading for something—anything—to dull the pain. Each time, she’d hand you another vial or patch you up, her expression more concerned than the last.

“You can’t keep going like this,” she said one afternoon, the frown on her face more prominent than usual as she wiped the blood from your upper lip. “You need to either let it run its course or... you know the alternatives.”

"I’m not ready," you muttered, avoiding her gaze. You knew what she was implying, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face it. "Not yet."

Shoko sighed, leaning back against her desk. "You know I’ll have to tell Gojo eventually, right?" She said it like it was an inevitability, which, in many ways, it was.

Panic shot through you at the thought of him knowing. He couldn’t. Not now, not when you were still trying so hard to keep yourself invisible to him. "Please, don’t," you whispered, your voice shaky. "Just… don’t tell him it’s me."

Shoko hesitated, her brow furrowed in concern. "You know he’ll figure it out. He’s not stupid, and the moment he realizes one of his students is suffering from something like this—"

"Promise me," you cut in, desperation lacing your voice. "Promise you won’t say my name."

She stared at you for a long moment, then sighed heavily, pushing her glasses up on her head. "Fine. I’ll keep your name out of it. For now. But you can’t hide forever."

You nodded, relief washing over you. Hiding was all you had left. As long as he didn’t know, you could pretend it didn’t matter. You could stay in the background, where you were used to being—unseen, unnoticed, just another face in his class.

It was easier to avoid Gojo when he was always so busy. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and the others constantly vied for his attention with their loud voices and powerful techniques. It made it simple to slip into the back of his classroom, your chair by the window offering a sanctuary where you could fade into the background.

He never looked your way, not when Yuji was busy cracking jokes or Megumi was asking pointed questions about combat. Gojo’s blindfolded eyes were always on them, his energy, his focus, everything wrapped up in the more powerful students. It was almost a blessing, in a twisted way—he didn’t have time for someone like you.

You spent most of class staring out the window, one hand subtly holding a tissue against your nose, ready to catch the inevitable trickle of blood. You felt it coming now, the familiar warmth creeping down your nostrils, but you didn’t move. It had become so common that it barely registered as pain anymore, just a constant dull ache in the back of your throat and chest.

When Gojo asked a question, you didn’t raise your hand. You never did. It was safer to stay quiet, to let Yuji or Nobara answer while you watched the clouds drift lazily by outside. You were disappearing, bit by bit, wilting away as the petals bloomed inside you.

But every time Gojo laughed—every time he made a careless joke or smiled that easy, charming smile—you felt it. The tightness, the sharp pain of another petal taking root inside your lungs. You wanted to hate him for it, to hate yourself for letting it get this far, but those feelings only made the flowers grow faster.

There were moments, brief flickers of time, when his attention would shift—when his gaze would sweep across the classroom, pausing on each student. You’d hold your breath in those moments, praying that his gaze wouldn’t linger on you for too long, that he wouldn’t notice the fatigue in your eyes or the way you kept dabbing at your nose when you thought no one was looking.

But he never lingered. Not once. Not on you.

And somehow, that hurt more than the petals ever could.

Every time you coughed, every time a cerulean petal hit the ground, you felt yourself coming undone. You kept your distance from Gojo as much as possible, avoiding his usual haunts and slipping away during training sessions. But it was impossible to avoid him completely. Sometimes you’d catch glimpses of him in the hallways, laughing with the other students, his presence as overwhelming as ever. Each time, the flowers bloomed a little more, spreading deeper into your lungs.

You were running out of time.

One evening, after a particularly harsh coughing fit, you stumbled into the training yard, desperate for fresh air. The cool night breeze did little to ease the tightness in your chest, but at least here, you were alone. You leaned against a tree, struggling to catch your breath as another wave of petals slipped past your lips.

You hated this. Hated how weak you felt, how helpless you were against something as absurd as unrequited love. And yet, every time you thought about confessing, the image of Gojo’s indifferent smile flashed in your mind, and the words died in your throat.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching. Your heart raced as you straightened up, wiping the petals from your mouth and stuffing them into your pocket. You looked up, expecting to see one of the other students, but it was Shoko.

Her usual cool, detached demeanor was still in place, but there was something different in her eyes—something that made your stomach twist with unease.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice lower than usual.

You swallowed, already guessing what this was about. “What is it?”

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Your condition is getting worse, isn’t it?”

You didn’t need to answer. The way you clutched your chest, the way you struggled to keep the petals hidden—it was all the confirmation she needed.

“I’ve been holding off as long as I could,” she continued, her voice softer now. “But I talked to Gojo.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath you. Your breath caught in your throat, not because of the flowers this time, but because of her words.

“You what?” The question came out in a whisper, sharp with disbelief.

“I had to,” Shoko said, her tone firm but not unkind. “You’re not going to make it much longer if this keeps up. I didn’t mention your name, like I promised, but he needed to know.”

Your legs felt weak, and you stumbled back, leaning heavily against the tree for support. Of course, she’d done what you’d asked—told him without revealing your identity. But it didn’t matter. The mere thought of Gojo knowing, of him even being aware that someone in his proximity was withering away because of him, made your chest tighten in ways that had nothing to do with the flowers.

“What… what did he say?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Shoko gave you a long, measured look before speaking. “He didn’t take it as lightly as you might think. He’s worried—though you know how Gojo is. He hides it behind his usual attitude. But this? Hanahaki? He knows what it means, and it’s not something he can ignore.”

You could barely process her words. Gojo? Worried? It didn’t make sense. He was always so untouchable, so far above everyone else. Why would something like this even matter to him?

“Did he… ask who it was?” you asked, already fearing the answer.

Shoko nodded, crossing her arms. “Of course he did. He was… concerned. It’s not every day that someone’s literally dying over unrequited love. But I didn’t tell him. I just gave him enough to know it’s serious.”

You felt a sharp pang in your chest—not the flowers, but something worse. Guilt. Guilt that your feelings had somehow become a burden for him, even without him knowing who you were.

“I… I shouldn’t have asked you to tell him,” you muttered, looking down at your feet. “I just… didn’t know what else to do.”

Shoko stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “You’re allowed to feel what you feel. And if this is the only way to keep you alive a little longer, then so be it. But you can’t hide forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face him.”

You shook your head, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “I can’t. He’ll never—”

“You don’t know that,” Shoko interrupted, her gaze sharp. “Gojo’s a lot of things, but he’s not heartless. He might surprise you.”

You wanted to believe her, but you couldn’t shake the overwhelming certainty that confessing would only lead to more pain. Gojo was untouchable. Even if he cared in some distant, detached way, it would never be the way you wanted.

Shoko sighed, stepping back. “I won’t push you. But just… think about it. You don’t have much time left.”

With that, she turned and left, her footsteps fading into the night.

You stayed there for a long time, alone in the dark, the petals in your pocket a heavy reminder of the choice you had yet to make.

You sat at your usual desk in the back of Gojo’s classroom, your head leaning against the cool glass of the window. The hum of conversation filled the room, a low murmur as the other students talked amongst themselves, waiting for Gojo to stroll in with his usual swagger. You kept your gaze fixed outside, watching the leaves stir in the breeze.

It was easier this way—hiding in plain sight, letting the louder students command the room while you quietly faded into the background. No one really noticed you, not even Gojo.

Still, there was a part of you that longed for his attention, even if it was just for a moment. A glance, a word, anything that would remind you that you weren’t invisible to him. But every day passed the same—Gojo laughing and joking with the stronger students while you wilted away in silence.

You pressed a tissue to your nose, feeling the familiar warmth of blood trickling out. Another nosebleed. It had become so frequent that you almost didn’t notice it anymore. Almost. The petals in your lungs shifted uncomfortably, a tightness building in your chest as you fought the urge to cough. The last thing you needed was to draw attention to yourself, especially now.

Shoko had promised not to tell Gojo it was you, but you knew her patience was running thin. You visited her office almost daily now, seeking some sort of relief, but there was only so much she could do. Hanahaki wasn’t something that could be easily cured—at least, not without confronting the painful truth behind it.

You couldn’t afford that. You weren’t ready for him to know. What would you even say if he found out? The thought of confessing made your stomach churn, your fingers tightening around the tissue in your hand. How could you ever explain the way you felt when you were barely able to understand it yourself?

The door slid open, and Gojo sauntered in, his usual carefree grin plastered across his face. The room seemed to brighten at his presence, his energy infectious as he greeted the class with his typical enthusiasm. You kept your eyes trained on the window, refusing to meet his gaze. It was better that way—safer.

“Alright, kiddos, settle down,” Gojo called out, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get started.”

The chatter died down as the students turned their attention to him, hanging on his every word. You listened, too, but from a distance, as if you were an outsider observing a scene that didn’t quite include you. His voice was the same as always, smooth and light, filled with that teasing charm that made the others smile. But for you, it was another reminder of how far away he really was.

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but notice something different in his tone today—an edge, barely noticeable, but there. He wasn’t as relaxed as usual. His gaze, though still hidden behind his blindfold, seemed to sweep over the class with more intensity, as if he were looking for something.

Or someone.

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat picking up as a flicker of panic settled in your chest. He wouldn’t know, would he? Shoko hadn’t said anything. She promised.

But the longer he stood there, the more restless you became. You could feel his attention shift, his energy probing the room, lingering in places it hadn’t before. There was something sharper in the way he moved, in the way he spoke to the students—like he was searching for an answer to a question he couldn’t quite articulate yet.

He didn’t speak to you directly, of course. He never did. But that didn’t stop the creeping suspicion that he was starting to notice something.

“Everyone’s doing alright, yeah?” Gojo asked casually, his voice lilting, but there was an underlying concern that hadn’t been there before.

Yuji, ever the optimist, nodded enthusiastically. “All good here!”

Megumi grunted in agreement, and Nobara shot Gojo a playful smirk. The usual banter, the usual flow. But beneath the surface, you could feel it. Gojo was waiting for something. His attention drifted, not settling as it usually did.

You shifted in your seat, the petals stirring in your lungs again. The ache had become a constant companion, always there, always waiting for the next bloom. You pressed the tissue harder against your nose, trying to focus on your breathing, trying to stay invisible.

But it didn’t work.

“Hey, you back there,” Gojo’s voice suddenly cut through the room, casual yet commanding. Your heart stopped in your chest, your breath catching in your throat. “You okay? You look a little pale.”

He was talking to you.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Gojo’s attention was on you. Your hands shook slightly, the tissue still pressed to your nose as you quickly tried to pull yourself together. You forced a weak smile, nodding slightly, though you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a lie, but you hoped it was convincing enough.

Gojo didn’t press, but you could feel the weight of his gaze linger a moment too long before he turned back to the rest of the class. The tension in the room slowly eased as the lesson continued, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

He had noticed you. And now, it was only a matter of time before he started to connect the dots.

As class ended and the other students filed out, you stayed behind, your legs weak and your mind racing. The tightness in your chest was unbearable now, each breath a struggle as the petals continued to bloom, slowly suffocating you from the inside out.

You stood, gripping the edge of your desk to steady yourself, but the world swayed around you, your vision blurring. You felt the cough building in your throat, but you swallowed it down, trying to hold it back.

Gojo was still at the front of the room, his back turned as he gathered up some papers. You glanced at him, your heart heavy with unspoken words, knowing that the distance between you was more than just physical. Even with his attention momentarily on you, he was still so far away—too far for you to ever reach.

The petals in your lungs fluttered violently, and before you could stop it, a wet cough escaped your lips. You doubled over, clutching your chest as the tissue in your hand was soaked through with blood.

It was getting worse.

You could feel it—Gojo was also beginning to put the pieces together. His usual carefree demeanor was still there, but underneath it, you noticed subtle changes. The way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long, the occasional pause in his speech as if something was pulling at the back of his mind, the shift in his tone when he asked how you were doing.

He was connecting the dots, slowly but surely.

It had started out small. After that one class where your coughing fit had drawn his attention, Gojo had seemed more… aware of you. You weren’t used to that. For so long, you had been the invisible student, blending into the background while he focused on the stronger, louder ones. But now, it felt like you were always under his watch, even if it was subtle.

You couldn’t help but notice how often his blindfolded gaze would drift in your direction during class, the easy-going smile on his lips faltering for just a moment when your breath hitched or your shoulders tensed with the effort of keeping another coughing fit at bay. He never called you out in front of the others again, but the worry was there—hovering beneath the surface, waiting for you to crack.

It was getting harder to hide. The petals were growing larger and more frequent, blooming violently inside you whenever you were in his presence. It wasn’t just the physical pain anymore; it was the emotional strain of knowing he was starting to figure it out. Each time you saw him, the flowers bloomed more aggressively, as if they, too, could sense that time was running out.

You sat in class, staring blankly at the notes in front of you, the familiar weight of exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. The tissue box on your desk was nearly empty again, and you were already clutching another tissue in your hand, waiting for the inevitable. Your lungs felt tight, each breath more difficult than the last as the flowers took root deeper inside of you.

Gojo was at the front, as usual, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed as he casually spoke to the class. He seemed as relaxed as ever, but you could feel his attention on you, even if he didn’t directly address it. Every time you shifted in your seat or raised a tissue to your nose, you could sense his focus sharpening, though he kept his distance.

“Alright, kiddos, let’s wrap it up for today,” Gojo said, his voice light and playful as he clapped his hands together. The students began packing up, Yuji and Nobara already bickering about something as they made their way out of the classroom.

You stayed behind, as you often did now, waiting for the others to leave before making your quiet exit. But today, Gojo lingered, too. You could feel the tension in the air as you stood from your seat, your legs unsteady beneath you. The weight of his gaze was palpable as you gathered your things, your hands trembling slightly.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was softer than usual, and when you turned to look at him, you saw that his posture had changed. He wasn’t leaning against the desk anymore, his arms uncrossed and his expression… unreadable. “You feeling alright?”

It wasn’t the first time he had asked, but this time, there was something different in the way he said it. It wasn’t casual concern—it was heavier, like he already knew the answer but was waiting for you to say it out loud.

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied, the words sticking in your throat as you grabbed the tissue box, clutching it tightly to your chest like a lifeline.

Gojo didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you. His smile, too, faded a little, replaced with something more serious, more focused. “You sure about that?” he asked, his tone light but his words pointed.

You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze as you tried to make your way toward the door. But your body betrayed you. The familiar tightness in your chest returned, and before you could stop it, a violent coughing fit overtook you. You doubled over, one hand clutching your chest as you brought the other to your mouth, the tissue doing little to contain the blood and petals that escaped.

Cerulean petals fluttered to the ground, streaked with red, their delicate beauty a stark contrast to the pain tearing through your lungs.

You didn’t have to look up to know that Gojo had seen. The room was painfully silent, and you could feel his gaze burning into you.

“Wait.” His voice was firm now, no longer soft or teasing. You heard his footsteps approaching, and your heart raced in your chest as panic set in. You couldn’t face him. Not like this.

But it was too late.

Gojo’s hand gently caught your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. “Look at me,” he said quietly, his tone serious but not unkind.

You hesitated, your breath shaky as you slowly turned to face him. His blindfold hid his eyes, but you didn’t need to see them to know the concern that was etched into every line of his face. For once, there was no trace of his usual cocky smile, no hint of the lighthearted jokes he often used to deflect serious situations.

“You’re not fine,” Gojo said, his voice low, steady. “You haven’t been fine for a while, have you?”

The tears that had been building behind your eyes finally spilled over. You wanted to deny it, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was shake your head, the weight of your secret crashing down around you.

Gojo’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, a silent reassurance. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with an intensity that made your chest tighten for a different reason.

“I…” You swallowed hard, struggling to find the words. “I didn’t want you to know.”

Gojo’s expression softened, though the concern in his voice never wavered. “It’s hanahaki, isn’t it?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, the weight of the truth finally too much to carry alone. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s hanahaki.”

Gojo exhaled softly, his hand still resting on your shoulder as he processed your admission. “Do you know who—” He stopped, the realization dawning on him slowly. “Wait… is it—?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, your silence enough of an answer.

It was him. It had always been him.

And now, he knew.

The silence between you and Gojo was thick, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a storm cloud. You could feel his gaze on you, sharp and penetrating, but it wasn’t enough to make you look at him. You stared at the floor, your hands trembling as you clutched the empty tissue box, your breath still shaky from the violent coughing fit that had exposed everything.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Gojo asked quietly, his voice stripped of the usual playfulness, replaced by a gravity that was foreign on his tongue.

You felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside you, mixing with the pain in your chest. Why hadn’t you told him? The answer was painfully simple, yet tangled in a mess of emotions you’d tried to suppress for so long. You tightened your grip on the box, swallowing hard before finally speaking, your voice thick with unshed tears.

“Why would I tell you?” you muttered, your words sharp even though they came out barely above a whisper. “You’re always so busy, Gojo-sensei. You didn’t even know I was here before today.”

Gojo stiffened slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond.

“It’s not your fault I have a meek technique that didn’t catch your attention,” you continued, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. “I was just… invisible. So why would I tell you?”

You finally looked up at him then, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like ages. His blindfold still obscured his eyes, but you could see the way his jaw tightened, his posture tense. There was no easy smile now, no casual demeanor. Just the weight of his presence, heavy and serious in a way you had never seen before.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Gojo asked quietly, his voice softer but carrying the same intensity. There was no arrogance in his words, just genuine confusion, as if the idea of him not noticing was somehow inconceivable.

Your frustration boiled over, and you shook your head, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I don’t need to think anything, Gojo-sensei,” you said, your voice louder now, trembling with emotion. “I know you didn’t notice.”

Gojo opened his mouth as if to respond, but he hesitated, his expression tightening. It was the first time you had ever seen him at a loss for words. He wasn’t used to being called out like this, to being told that he had missed something important. Especially something as important as one of his students suffering in silence.

You took a step back, pulling away from his grip as you fought to steady your breathing, the petals still stirring in your lungs. “It’s not your fault,” you added, quieter now, your anger giving way to the exhaustion that had been building inside you for so long. “I didn’t expect you to notice. Why would you? You’ve got students with real potential, students who deserve your attention.”

Gojo’s expression softened, and he took a step forward, his voice calm but firm. “You’re one of my students, too,” he said, his tone laced with a sincerity that cut through the pain. “I should’ve noticed. I do notice.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head again. “You notice now because I’m dying, Gojo. Not because of anything else. If I didn’t have this—” you gestured toward your chest, “—you still wouldn’t see me.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his frame loosening as he let out a slow breath. “That’s not true,” he said softly. “You’re not invisible to me.”

The vulnerability in his voice startled you. Gojo wasn’t supposed to sound like this—he was always so confident, so sure of himself. But now, standing in front of you, he seemed almost… regretful.

“Maybe I was too caught up in everything else,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression tight. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care. I care about all of you.”

You looked away, the words landing heavily in your chest. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he truly cared about you the same way he did Yuji or Megumi or Nobara. But the reality was, you had spent so long on the sidelines, watching as his attention was always pulled in a hundred different directions, that it was hard to accept that you could matter, too.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause, his voice quieter now, more serious than you had ever heard it. “I should have seen you sooner. I should’ve been there.”

The sincerity in his voice cracked something in you, and for a moment, the anger and frustration ebbed away, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

“It’s too late now, isn’t it?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Gojo didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, the silence felt unbearable. He stepped closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder, but he didn’t touch you. “It’s not too late,” he said quietly. “It’s never too late.”

You shook your head, biting back a sob as another violent cough wracked your body, more petals spilling from your lips. They fell to the ground between you, fragile and blood-stained, and you stared at them, your breath coming in short, painful gasps.

“How can you say that?” you choked out, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Look at me, Gojo. It’s too late.”

Gojo’s expression darkened, but there was a determination in his voice as he spoke. “No,” he said firmly, his hand finally resting on your shoulder, grounding you with his touch. “It’s not too late. We’re going to figure this out. I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

His words, so certain and filled with resolve, made something inside you tremble. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a moment, that maybe—just maybe—things could change.

But as the petals continued to bloom inside your chest, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had already run out of time.

notes: i'll be posting one chapter per day - so please stick around! If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know <3

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[pin-k-ink]

precious // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ hoshina being an overprotective hubby, mentions of complications during childbirth, mentions of injuries, unplanned pregnancy, lactation kink, nipple play, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, semi public sex, squirting

wc ⇢ 6.8k

Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoshina crowded you against the bedroom door, his powerful frame bracketing you in with sinewy arms planted on either side of your head in an inescapable cage.

"Ya sure about this, baby girl?" he rasped, leaning down to ghost his lips across the thundering pulse at your throat. "Goin' back out into the field so soon after..."

He trailed off, throat bobbing with a convulsive swallow as he fought to keep the emotions off his face. You knew what he struggled not to voice - the reminder that it had been barely over a year since your last combat deployment...when you spent those endless, agonizing hours birthing his child in the medical ward.

Raising one hand, you traced the hard line of Hoshina’s jaw until he finally tilted his stare back to meet yours fully. The look of naked worry shining through those indigo depths made your chest constrict sharply. This was the man who had nearly torn the entire base apart searching for you that fateful night, convinced something catastrophic had unfolded after the readings from your suit went haywire.

Only to find you safely secured behind lockdown, laboring to bring his daughter into the world despite the field medics' best efforts to whisk you away at the first sign of complication. You still remembered the haunted awe etched across Hoshina’s chiseled features when he finally burst through, coated in sand and viscera but somehow the most beautiful sight you'd ever laid eyes on.

With Setsuko bundled in one arm, he had dropped to his knees at your bedside and gathered you both against his heaving chest in a rib-creaking embrace, lips mapping every inch of exposed skin between ragged apologies and feverish gratitude. As if you were both incredibly precious gemstones he'd nearly lost to the relentless hunger of this world's darkness before reclaiming at the last possible second.

You would never forget that moment as long as you lived - the reminder of just how easy it could all be snatched away in the blink of an eye. Which was precisely why you were so adamant about cutting the suffocating, overprotective tethers Hoshina had woven around you both in the aftermath and reclaiming your duties as a combat officer.

"Soshiro..." you murmured, palming his cheek firmly to hold his gaze as your other hand drifted down to press over the soft plane of your abdomen. "My body is healed, and Setsu is thriving. You can't keep us locked away forever out of some misguided sense of duty."

A muscle ticked in Hoshina’s jaw, the stark truth of your words resonating through that stubborn cavern of protective instincts still screaming to shield his family at any cost. You could practically see the battle raging across his features as he grappled with acknowledging your self-determination versus the compulsive need to snap you both back behind reinforced barriers until the end of days if he had his way.

"I almost lost ya," he gritted out at last, the hushed rasp of anguish bleeding through more vulnerability than Hoshina would ever dare allow any soul besides you to witness. "Sittin' there helpless while yer vital signs went haywire, wonderin' if I'd get to hold ya one last time before—"

You cut off the words with a decisive shake of your head, fingers slanting across his lips to halt the destructive path he would undoubtedly travel down given half the chance. "But you didn't lose me," you stated with steely certainty. "And I'll be damned if you or anyone else tries to treat me like a porcelain doll now that—"

"I don't think ya understand exactly what that night did to me," Hoshina interjected, a sudden ferocity burning behind his eyes as he trapped your wrist with one massive hand.

In the same motion, he hauled you flush against the rigid wall of his chest, tangling his free hand into your hair to cant your head back at an angle that bared your throat completely to his roving stare. You couldn't help the trembling full-body shudder that rippled through you as he leaned down to brush parted lips across your overheated skin.

"Do you have any idea how close ya came to bleedin' out 'fore I got there?" he rumbled against your thundering pulse in a tone made of smoke and sin. "What seein' ya like that, hearing the panic in the medics' voices about 'fadin' vitals' and possible hemor—"

His words fractured into a raw, wounded keen stifled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You wove your hands through his soft ink-dark locks, cradling him close as the powerful frame you adored more than life itself trembled with the force of his anguished recollections for several drawn-out beats.

When Hoshina finally regained some semblance of his renowned composure, you felt an undisguised press of wetness smear across your scorching skin. He drew back just enough to bore straight into your eyes, his own glassy and ringed with reddened fatigue no amount of bluster could fully mask.

"Ya don't get it, [Y/N]..." Hoshina growled in a wrecked rasp that seemed torn from the very depths of his psyche. "In that moment, there was nothin' - not the kaijiu threat, not the entire fuckin' war...not a damn thing that could have stopped me from slaughterin' anyone or anything to reach yer side when—"

His throat convulsed sharply as he visibly wrestled the rest of his confession into viselike submission. When he continued, it was in a lower, rawer octave that sent tingles of primal awareness skittering across your nerves.

"You and Setsuko are my entire universe, baby girl. My reason to keep endurin' this hell and clawin' my way back home to you both time after time. So you'll damn well forgive me for doing everythin' possible to keep my precious treasures safe and untarnished..."

With that, Hoshina yanked you forward again until you were once more plastered flush against that furnace of sinewy power and virile strength. This time he buried his face against the fragrant spill of your hair, drawing in heady lungfuls of your familiar scent as if drowning.

"I'm not ready to lose ya, sweetheart..." he rasped in a desperate, muffled whisper. "Even if it pisses ya off, even if ya hate me for it...I'll still do everythin' in my power to keep ya both sheltered from harm. It's the only way I can keep breathin'."

The raw agony and stark vulnerability driving those hushed words lanced straight through you. Without hesitation, you curved your arms around Hoshina’s torso in a grounding embrace and nuzzled your face against his heaving chest. Beneath your cheek you could feel the jackhammer cadence of his heart pounding, the visceral echo of just how profoundly this entire situation had shaken his foundations.

For long stretches, you simply swayed in concert while murmuring wordless reassurances and nonsense endearments into the charged stillness. The lulling rise and fall of your joined bodies gradually lulled Hoshina back from whatever haunted precipice his mind had been teetering over.

At last you felt the rigid tension slowly begin to unspool from his corded muscles, the fractures of his trademark ease and command settling back into place like tectonic faultlines. Hoshina let out a quavering sigh, warm breath stirring the fine hairs along your nape just before his lips found your crown in a lingering caress.

"I know," he rumbled at last, hoarse rasp reverberated against your sensitive whorls. "Pretty big fuckin' ask for a hardass like me to just rip those protective shackles off so easily."

You couldn't help the helpless little giggle that slipped free at his self-deprecating gruffness. Tilting your head back, you slanted your mouth across Hoshina’s in a deep, searching kiss that quickly stole both your breaths in its heated wake.

When you finally resurfaced, it was to find his indigo irises hooded to thin slivers of banked intensity - black fire flickering hungrily beneath those fanned lashes as he drank in your glazed expression and slick, swollen lips.

"Just promise me one thing, baby girl..." Hoshiro practically purred in a deliciously sinful cadence far removed from the impassioned pleas just moments ago. His tongue swept out to capture the tang of your lipgloss with delicate, purposeful relish. "Keep yer proximity protocols limited to long range fire support and recon sweeps only. I get even a whisper ya tried pulling some heroine bullshit out on the front lines..."

His grip on your jaw tightened fractionally, fingertips imprinting delicious brands of possession that made you squirm with visceral awareness. "And I'll make absolutely certain ya spend our next reunion face down and ass up over my knee. Understood?"

You could only whimper a breathless, mewling assent that seemed to stroke those banked flames behind Hoshina’s eyes into twin pillars of searing azure.

"Good girl..." he growled in blatant satisfaction before slanting his mouth over yours once more, all silken heat and scorching dominance.

Hoshina’s deep, rumbling laughter echoed through the spacious nursery as he tickled Setsuko's tummy, drinking in her tinkling peals of delight. The simple act of playing with his precious daughter was one of the few reprieves that could completely untether him from the relentless shadows of combat for however brief the respite.

"Again, Daddy! More tickles!" she squealed breathlessly between giggles, violet eyes sparking with unrestrained mirth.

Unable to resist those imploring looks - so reminiscent of her mother's own persuasive stares - Hoshina obliged with another flurry of gentle raspberries blown against Setsuko's downy soft skin. Her chubby features scrunched up in fresh mirth, tiny fists swatting at him playfully as she squirmed in his lap.

For those fleeting moments, the rest of the war-torn world beyond these secure walls faded into blessed white noise. There was only the simplicity of his baby girl's joy, her infectious laughter coaxing matching rumbles of contentment from Hoshina’s depths. A reprieve from the endless grind of violence and ugliness he willingly shouldered to safeguard these infinitely precious moments.

As Setsuko finally began winding down to breathless hiccups and intermittent giggles, Hoshina felt his attention drifting despite his best efforts. Suddenly his mind began replaying those last images of you suiting up for deployment earlier. The way your suit had molded to every lush, feminine curve like a second skin, practically searing the outlines of your form into his mind.

He remembered the intoxicating scent of your floral shampoo caressing his senses as you passed by for final munitions check. How your fingers had trailed along the chiseled ridges of his arm and shoulder in an unconscious caress, sending tendrils of scorching need licking through his veins. Most of all, Hoshina recollected the look of quiet determination blazing behind those luminous irises - the promise that you would indeed uphold his conditions out in the field this time.

With some difficulty, he managed to wrestle his thoughts back to the present as Setsuko twisted in his embrace, nosing insistently at the window. "Daddy, look! Trucks coming! Mommy's home now?"

Her words lanced straight through the heated reverie clouding Hoshina’s consciousness like a splash of ice water. Immediately, every paternal instinct snapped into laserlike vigil, gaze narrowing at the unmistakable rumble of armored transports entering the compound.

Carefully, he untangled Setsuko from his lap and rose in a single smooth motion to cross the nursery. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get ya settled with Miss Tomi again for a bit, 'kay? I'll bring Mommy up to say goodnight once she's finished her debrief."

It was only after ensuring his daughter was transferred into her caretaker's custody that Hoshina allowed his brisk strides to eat up the hallway distances towards the arrival hangar. Despite his lingering reservations and misgivings, you were still a consummate soldier and enforcer of duty. Which meant protocol dictated you would report directly to Captain Ashiro upon returning rather than seeking him out first.

As expected, the residential wing corridors were vacant, nothing but the baseline echoes of the facility's equipment and climate control systems. No sign of you just yet, likely still undergoing post-mission triage and data offloading. With a grunt, Hoshina altered course towards the Operation Room where he was certain to find you eventually.

Sure enough, as the familiar open atrium came into view, Hoshiro picked up the unmistakable form of Okonogi already stationed by the monitor. She seemed...twitchy, if the constant fidgeting and shifting of her weight was any indication. More than once, her gaze flicked nervously towards the double-wide access doors as another incoming group filtered inside, only to snap back with clear avoidance when she spotted Hoshina’s looming silhouette.

Curiosity rapidly morphing into heightened suspicion, Hoshina angled his approach to intercept the young operations leader before she could make any hasty retreats. "Okonogi-chan," he said in greeting as she started guiltily. "Everythin' okay?"

Her cheeks flushed an even darker umber shade as she swallowed hard, clearly striving to regain some composure under Hoshina’s hard stare. "V-Vice Captain Hoshina! I was just, um, waiting for the debriefing t-to...that is, I mean..."

Trailing off pathetically, Okonogi shot one more wild-eyed glance over her shoulder, as if praying another distraction might materialize to spirit her away from this interrogation. No such salvation came, however, so she slumped with a tiny sigh before pivoting to fully face him.

"The truth is...Platoon Leader [L/N]— uh, Hoshina experienced a medical incident during today's mission," she managed to rasp out without quite meeting Hoshina’s gaze squarely. "She...collapsed in the middle of the kaiju engagement before her platoon could neutralize the threat."

For one suspended beat, all the ambient systems noise and distant voices faded into hollow static around Hoshina’s consciousness. Then a roaring, lancing pressure began expanding inside his skull as the implications took root and sprouted into a torrent of nightmare visions.

You collapsing amidst rubble and viscera, camera feed whiting out with nothing but bursts of interference...hissing emergency channels shouting about unstable vitals and internal hemorrhaging...the empty, agonizing silence that would follow if he lost the other half of his reason for living...

By the time Hoshina regained control over his body and lungs, Okonogi had already instinctively staggered back several paces with eyes widened in trepidation. Whether it was the rictus glare he leveled in her direction or the barely sublimated snarl reverberated through his chest, she clearly realized just how deeply the news gored his core.

"What. Happened," he grated out in a tone made of jagged obsidian and gritted glass. Each syllable seemed to flay away another shred of Okonogi's composure, leaving her bobbing in visible terror under his stormy scrutiny.

"She—she didn't sustain any injuries as far as the readings from her suit indicate," the girl managed in a breathless tumble of words, eyes still averted deferentially. "Platoon Leader Hoshina's condition was stabilized en route, and she regained consciousness before the transport returned to—"

A dismissive snarl ripped free from Hoshina’s chest before he realized it, sending Okonogi physically flinching with a whimper. He didn't have the patience or wherewithal to deconstruct her clinical details - not with a million shrieking demons howling in his mind all painting the same chilling canvas.

You lying motionless and bloodied, skin waxen beneath your combat suit...those vibrant eyes dimmed to soulless pits staring back at him in vacant accusation. All because he allowed himself to indulge your foolish, self-destructive whims by easing his protection despite every primal instinct lighting up like solar flares.

Barely cognizant of his actions, Hoshina pivoted sharply and began stalking towards the medbay with ground-eating strides. He needed to see you whole and breathing with his own two eyes, hear your voice lance through the maelstrom of torment roiling through his thoughts. Nothing else would ever be enough to exorcise the demons until he could physically inhere every detail to memory once more.

"V-Vice Captain!" Okonogi called out faintly behind him, voice wavering between obligation and self-preservation. "I have to insist you wait until Captain—"

"I don't take orders from you," Hoshina snarled over his shoulder without breaking stride, every fiber of his being now a missile locked onto its solitary target.

Finding you, holding you, ensuring your wellbeing with his own senses...this was the only imperative that registered anymore. If anyone tried barring his path, they would simply become another obstacle to be neutralized without mercy or hesitation.

With the medical ward’s towering threshold now looming ahead, Hoshina braced inwardly for whatever maelstrom of emotions awaited him just beyond that point. Either he was about to eclipse into divine rapture at finding you still whole and resilient in defiance of the odds...

Or he was descending irrevocably into a personal hell from which there could be no climbing back this time.

Hoshina burst through the medical wing's reinforced hatches like a vengeful hurricane unleashed. Several staffers in white lab coats startled and backpedaled at his sudden, explosive arrival, eyes widening at the thunderous expression twisting his features.

"Where is she? My wife! Platoon Leader Hoshina. Where is she?!" he snarled without preamble, stalking further into the sterile chamber with forearms already coiled for confrontation. "If any of ya valued yer lives, you'd tell me where—"

The venomous threat fractured in the back of his throat as a familiar, melodious giggle drifted through the air - your giggle, distinct and infinitely precious. Hoshina’s chest seized with such force he nearly staggered, every previous thought and raging instinct funneling to that single point where the gentle peal had originated from.

Whipping his head around with near-violent intensity, his gaze finally locked upon your form seated atop one of the beds. You were framed in profile, backlit by the crisp fluorescents and laughing at something the attending medic hovered beside you had said. To Hoshina, you may as well have been haloed by celestial radiance itself.

Before conscious thought could fully reassert itself, his legs were already carryining him forward in a smooth, prowling gait - a wolf homing in on the mate it had scented from miles away. He reached your side just as your giggles tapered off into sporadic chuckles, mouth still curved in that radiant smile he had convinced himself mere moments ago may never grace his world again.

Then you noticed his presence at your side, eyes widening fractionally before crinkling at the corners as a fresh smile bloomed across your features. "Well hey there, big—oof!"

The attempted greeting dissolved into a breathless exhalation as Hoshina enveloped you in his arms, crushing your frame against his chest so tightly it stole all remaining oxygen. Not that he could bring himself to loosen his grip in the slightest at feeling your solid warmth, the unrelenting cadence of your heartbeat thumping against his sternum in vivid tandem with his own thundering pulses.

"Idiot..." he rasped out in a devastated keen muffled against the crown of your head, throat convulsing with stifled emotion. Emotion that thrashed and roiled within like a snarling tempest barely bound, demanding cathartic release in any way he could physically pour himself into you. "You beautiful, infuriatin', ridiculous idiot..."

He could feel the perplexed quirk of your brow against the fevered skin of his neck as you craned your head back slightly, attempting to put distance between you so he could drink in the full force of your searching stare. Hoshina didn't allow it - couldn't bear the thought of a single inch separating your bodies even for an instant after nearly being rent asunder by loss.

So instead, he gathered you even closer into the protective, unyielding circle of his embrace with a minute adjustment, until you were practically molded into the solid ridges and hard planes of his body down to the last degree. With his nose buried in your fragrant hair, Hoshina simply stood there quaking for several agonizing moments, drinking in every infinitesimal detail like a dying man gulping at a desert oasis while he could.

Until finally you stirred again and his name emerged in that soothing alto lullaby he adored, now ribboned through layers of fond exasperation and confusion. "Shiro...? Hey now, I'm alright, see? No need for my big bad soldier to fly off the handle on some poor doc who was only—"

You broke off into a muffled squeak as Hoshina abruptly yanked you even tighter, until the bones in your ribcage creaked ominously under the colossal forces binding you to him. "Shut up," he growled in a voice made of smoke, gravel, and something deeper...something fracturing along the hairline faultlines of his legendary restraint with each fresh recollection. "Just shut yer perfect mouth for one goddamn minute and let me..."

The gruff demand trailed off into stark silence as the white-knuckled intensity gripping Hoshina momentarily stole even his ability to verbalize his most primal needs. You seemed to sense the magnitude of his internal tides, though. Because rather than bristle at the brusque order, you simply relaxed your tense posture by increments and nestled closer into his sheltering bulk.

Long minutes were spent with you both swaying in minute shifts, simply existing within the shared space of respiration and mollified thunders slowing echoing against the medical pod's walls. Hoshina drowned in the familiar bouquet of your shampoo and bodily effluvium, savoring the unmistakable evidence that you were indeed whole, present, and gloriously undamaged in his embrace.

If you thought the way he had gathered you close before was intense, it was nothing compared to the scorching brand that ignited and seared straight through your core as he slanted his mouth over yours in a profound claim. Hoshina’s kiss was branded possession, smelted forges of banked heat contained behind that carefully metered exterior he always presented finally detonating in savage release.

Stars spun dizzily in your vision as his tongue swept past the seam of your lips in ferocious demand, pillaging everything in its path. Just as you were teetering towards delirium from the frenzied onslaught, feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal begin pooling between your thighs, a pointed ‘ahem’ broke the tension.

You both broke apart with audible gasps, Hoshina’s grip somehow tightening even further around your waist in a clear warning not to allow any space to linger. Together you pivoted towards the interruption to find one of the senior medics surveying you both in exasperated resignation. The woman's no-nonsense demeanor and arched brow brokered no argument as her mouth opened to deliver the verdict.

"Apologies for the, ah...delay , but I wanted to ensure we had a finalized diagnosis before debriefing Platoon Leader Hoshina's status," she intoned with a degree of deference that only applied to Hoshina’s rank rather than his outburst just moments ago.

The Vice Captain inclined his head a bare fraction, silently prompting the medic to continue now that she had his undivided focus. With another clipped sigh, she tapped her pen against data-tablet once before she held it out for the both of you.

You immediately recognized the anatomical schematic as your own physiology. And there, nestled and highlighted in diffusing aurora refractions...

You felt the breath stall in your lungs as you took in the undeniable second life signature nestled in pulsating tandem with your own heartbeat. Beside you, you sensed more than saw Hoshina go utterly motionless with the sole exception of his jugular hammering with steadily mounting intensity.

"It appears Platoon Leader Hoshina's loss of consciousness was induced by a combination of factors typical for approximately 8-12 week human gestation," the medic stated in clipped, clinical tones. "Increased hormone production, depleted plasma levels, intermittent vascular compliance...all of which manifested rather acutely while exerting continual strain."

She turned the anatomical display to reveal a progression of imaging scans highlighting your uterine area. Sure enough, cradled within the diffusing nebulae and heat-maps...an unmistakable fetal form beginning to take shape.

"Essentially, your physical ordeal seems to have triggered an extreme response which resulted in your body's rather dramatic effort to preserve the prenatal incubation environment amidst perceived duress conditions. A natural biological adaptation, if highly disruptive in this particular instance."

The explanation filtered only peripherally through the twin shock waves engulfing your reeling psyche. All you could see was the tiny, unmistakable shape huddled securely within those layers as if in silent defiance of your ignorance.

Pregnant. You were pregnant...with Hoshina’s child all over again.

Unconsciously, you felt your hand drifting towards the suddenly fraught terrain of your lower abdomen, fingers splaying over the subtle yet taut swell with quiet reverence. How had you missed something so monumentally life-altering? Beside you, Hoshina remained eerily statue-still save for the ragged hurricane of his breathing steadily intensifying until it thundered from his flared nostrils like a war drum cadence.

Then, without preamble or warning, your entire world shifted on its axis once more as he scooped you up crushingly close in a bizarre echo of his initial greeting. This time, however, there was none of the wild mania or single-minded desperation motivating his motions. Only a sort of quiet and profoundly stunned devotion rendering his powerful form inert as his broad palms mapped the slight swell of your abdomen almost reverently.

"Soshiro..." you breathed out around a throat thickened with emotion too visceral to articulate. "Are you...?"

"Hush now, pretty girl..." his words were a rolling rumble of molten gravel, smoky with naked awe. "No more talkin', not until yer husband has had his moment, yeah?"

With that gentle reverence, Hoshina tilted his brow against yours and simply...existed in rapt communion with the newly revealed secret you now cradled between your parallel stances. No protocols, no urgencies or crises beyond this singular miracle holding the whole of his universe in rapturous thrall.

Just he and you...plus the most precious addition of all.

Hoshina kept you cradled against his powerfully muscled frame even as he strode out of the medbay, one arm banded securely beneath your knees while the other splayed possessively above the brand-new swell of your abdomen. You watched the myriad expressions flicker across his chiseled features - naked awe, blazing possession, softening to tender reverence at each minuscule caress against the taut feminine swell...

"Should we go get Setsu?" you murmured at one point, already imagining the delight that would spark your daughter's face upon learning of her imminent promotion to big sisterhood. "I know she'll be thrilled to—"

"Already taken care of, baby girl," Hoshina interjected in a low, rumbling rasp without breaking stride. His indigo stare remained transfixed upon your midsection as if hypnotized. "Soon as I heard the news, my first call was ensurin' our girl would be looked after through the night."

You opened your mouth to question his meaning, only to go slack-jawed as realization sank in with molten intensity. ‘Through the night?’ Did Hoshina actually intend to...

The answering heat blazing in those indigo depths as he drank in your dawning comprehension was enough to scorch away any lingering doubts. You felt your breath hitch sharply, entire body flushing hot beneath Hoshina’s scorching stare. Suddenly you were arousingly, viscerally aware of the slight stretching heaviness confined beneath your taut bodysuit - your breasts tingling with new sensitivity, the unmistakable proof of life blossoming inside weighing you down with the most intoxicating sense of feminine appeal.

A flicker of Hoshina’s tongue swiping across his lower lip made your newly hypersensitive nerves throb in yearning. You squirmed instinctively against his embrace, thighs clenching in an unconscious attempt to alleviate the steadily mounting ache already pulsing in delirious demand between them.

Without needing to be prompted further, Hoshina sank into an easy crouch and deposited you on the nearest flat surface - a long, reinforced table usually reserved for tactical planning and readiness evaluation. The cool, sterile metal beneath your back made you gasp, suddenly arousal-ripened nipples peaking against the thin material in helpless reaction. But any feeble protests withered on your tongue as Hoshina’s calloused hands began roaming with unhurried, passionate focus every lush new curve and dimpled expanse his heated stare hungrily mapped out.

"Look how utterly sexy you've already gotten carryin' my child..." he rasped in a voice gone gravel-rough and honeyed with undisguised sin. One palm drifted up to knead and caress the generous swell of your breasts in tactile rapture. "So damn soft and absolutely made for givin' life..."

Despite the scorching frisson of need steadily mounting throughout your core, you somehow found the presence of mind to mouth a half-hearted objection. "Sh-Shiro, the door...we shouldn't—"

"Shh, shh...let me take care of my sweet girl," he husked out in that deep, resonant timbre that liquefied your bones. With his free hand splaying burning possession across your lower belly, Hoshina dipped his mouth to trail open, openmouthed kisses down the long elegant column of your throat. "Wouldn't want to waste a single second now that I've got ya all wet and riled up..."

His voice dropped into an octave of pure sin on that last word, every syllable seeming to lash synapses into feverish overdrive. You whimpered at the brand of his teeth scoring your thundering pulse, back arching instinctively into the delicious friction building between your bodies.

Not needing further encouragement, Hoshina set about divesting you of every last stitch of material separating his roving mouth and ravenous gaze from the delicious new swell of your figure. Within moments you were splayed in nude abandon, quivering with arousal and utterly hypnotized by the look of naked hunger blazing from his features.

"That's my good girl..." he purred in molten gravel against the hollow of your collarbone, free hand smoothing possessive claim down the newly defined curve of your hips and thighs. "Just lay back and let Daddy take his fill of this gorgeous little body...been far too long since I got to taste yer milk…or anythin' else for that matter."

The way his tongue slicked out to trace your areola in teasing, featherlight circles sent your brain into a tailspin. All thoughts of protest or resistance disintegrated into molten, visceral need. Especially as his mouth latched around your aching nipple and began suckling in languid, thorough draws, tongue flicking the straining peak in rhythmic pulses.

It was as if a floodgate of sensation had been unlocked by the sheer intimacy of his actions. Suddenly the pressure mounting between your thighs became unbearable, hips rocking forward instinctively to grind against Hoshina in an attempt to slake that growing, insatiable fire.

"So greedy for my mouth, aren't ya, baby girl..." he growled around a mouthful of breast, teeth grazing your swollen flesh as his free hand began kneading your neglected globe in firm, massaging motions. "Daddy's got plenty to give, no need to rush now..."

With a final lingering pull, Hoshina released your nipple with a sinful pop and leaned back just enough to admire the fresh evidence of his attentions. You felt your cheeks flood with molten heat as you watched him drink in the engorged, glistening state of your breasts, nipples puckered and aching in desperate need.

"Gorgeous..." he purred in a silken rasp of praise, free hand drifting lower to caress the sensitive hollows of your inner thigh. "Yer so fuckin' beautiful to me, mama, no wonder ya had my poor heart stopped earlier."

You were still attempting to process the heady mixture of arousal and raw emotion roiling through you when Hoshina leaned down to lap at the opposite breast. The sudden contact of his tongue circling the straining bud made your spine arch off the table in a breathless arc, fingers clawing for purchase against his muscled shoulders.

"Fuck! Shiro, please, I can't—!"

Your desperate pleas fractured into a mewling cry as he sealed his lips around your nipple and suckled hard. At the same moment, his free hand groped a handful of your other breast and squeezed, just hard enough to make your milk spurt forth in an erotic spray.

Hoshina growled around a mouthful of creamy liquid, drinking deep as if he was the one teetering on the edge of madness and not you. His eyes flicked up to lock with your own, searing irises smoldering with such unrelenting focus the air seemed to sizzle between you.

"So damn gorgeous when ya feed me like this, mama'," he rumbled in a voice made of sin and dark promises. His grip on your breast tightened fractionally, coaxing another jet of rich milk. "Gonna spend the rest of my days breedin' ya over and over so you'll never run dry for Daddy..."

With a final swipe of his tongue, Hoshina straightened and drew the back of his hand across his glistening lips, savoring the remnants. For several suspended moments he simply gazed down at your supine form, drinking in the sight with a level of intensity that made you flush with heat and shyness.

Then his palm skated possessively over the slope of your stomach, coming to rest atop the taut skin where a brand-new life had been kindled. A slow smile curved his lips as he rubbed his thumb in slow, circular caresses.

"Might even have to keep ya like this after this one's born, baby girl. Just stay nice and soft and full for Daddy..." he growled, fingers drifting to cup your swollen folds in a possessive grip. "Maybe then ya won't be so inclined to take off and play hero out there where yer not needed anymore, yeah?"

Your protests died a swift death on your tongue as Hoshina plunged one thick finger into the soaking heat of your pussy. With his free hand still resting atop your stomach, he began pumping with measured, languid strokes - his gaze locked unblinkingly upon yours the entire time.

"That's right, my perfect little housewife..." he coaxed as your hips bucked in instinctive counterpoint, pussy clamping down with greedy demand. "Let Daddy take care of ya like this forever...ya won't even miss the battlefield once I get ya good and bred again as soon as this one's out."

"Shiro...oh, gods, please..." you moaned as his fingers began curling and scissoring in deliberate, unhurried motions, dragging against that most sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside.

"That's right, darlin'," Hoshina purred, bending low to nuzzle at the underside of your breast, lips skimming across the supple flesh. "Ya just lay back and let Daddy do the hard work...keep my baby girl safe and cozy while I handle all the heavy liftin'."

Your hips bucked in frantic desperation as his mouth descended on your straining nipple once more, lips pursing to suckle in firm pulls. His free hand continued rubbing in gentle circles across your abdomen, while his fingers began pumping faster and harder between your thighs.

You could feel the pressure building behind a wall of sheer ecstasy, every muscle drawn taut and vibrating. Just as you began toppling into the abyss, Hoshina pulled his fingers free. You whined in protest, writhing for the friction he had stolen away.

"Please, Shiro, I need it..."

"Shh, easy now, mama," he murmured, shifting his body weight until he was fully settled between your thighs, arms banded on either side to brace his bulk. "Know what ya need better than yerself, remember? So just relax and let Daddy do his job, yeah?"

With a single smooth thrust, Hoshina hilted himself to the hilt inside your spasming core, eliciting a choked cry from the both of you. For several seconds, he remained motionless and shuddering, simply reveling in the sensation of being seated fully inside the slick heat he had claimed years ago.

"Holy shit, I thought it would be different," he groaned, forehead pressing against your own as his pelvis began rocking in a steady rhythm. "But yer still just as tight and hot for my cock as the first time I buried myself in ya, aren't ya, baby girl..."

You whimpered incoherently, hips rising to meet each driving stroke in delirious counterpoint. Hoshina growled in approval, increasing the tempo until the table rocked violently beneath the force of his thrusts. "Do ya remember? When ya tried playin' hard to get with me, thinkin' ya had the upper hand?"

As if in emphasis, he shifted his weight and began grinding his pelvis into yours in punishing, deliberate circles. Your cries pitched to a higher, keening note as the pressure built towards that glorious crescendo once more.

"Shoulda known…you were mine the moment I laid eyes on ya," Hoshina continued in a voice made of molten gravel. His eyes bore into yours with single-minded, searing intensity. "Shoulda fucked ya stupid right then and there...but I'll be damned if ya weren't worth the wait, baby girl'."

He punctuated his statement with a brutal snap of his hips that had you keening beneath him. Your entire world was narrowed down to the molten stretch of him inside you, the friction of his pubic bone grinding into your swollen clit, the overwhelming presence of his gaze burning you to ash with nothing but adoration.

"Love ya, mama...love ya so much I can't ever think straight whenever ya take off like that," Hoshina's voice cracked with emotion, fingers threading into your hair to angle your face up to his. "I'd do anything for ya...just don't ever make me live without ya, baby girl."

"I-I won't, I promise," you sobbed, overwhelmed with the intensity of his emotion, your own body teetering precariously on the razor's edge of release. "Please, Shiro, make me cum, need it so bad, please—"

He immediately rose to his full height, both hands gripping the generous swell of your hips and angling you at a steeper incline. Your legs instinctively hooked around his waist as his strokes became deep, savage pistoning - the new angle allowing his cock to strike all those tender spots inside you just perfectly.

"Cum for me, baby girl, wanna see ya soak my dick..." he gritted out, every corded muscle in his powerful frame flexing as he worked himself furiously in and out of your sopping core. "Let Daddy see that pretty pussy milk my cock, yeah?"

His fingers tightened into bruising crescents against your hips as the pace of his thrusts became increasingly ragged, a low groan building in the back of his throat. You felt his balls drawing up tight, his shaft swelling as the familiar pulsating throb began signaling the moment he could no longer hold back.

The moment you had him entirely, utterly, and irrevocably undone.

Your entire body went rigid, toes curling and spine arching as you crested over the edge into an inferno of blinding ecstasy. Hoshina snarled gutturally as your core spasmed, hot liquid spurting and gushing around his cock just as your tits sprayed another fountain of rich milk, splashing his chest.

"Holy—fuck! That’s the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen," he grunted, fingers digging into your hips to lock you into place as he drove himself to the hilt once, twice, and then held...

"Fuuuuck!" Hoshina bellowed, head thrown back in agonized rapture as his cock erupted inside you. Thick ropes of cum gushed into your still-convulsing depths, splashing the mouth of your womb with hot seed. You could feel him twitching, jerking, and pulsing as he pumped everything he had deep inside, until your pussy was thoroughly and completely drenched with his essence.

When the last shuddering spasm finally left him, Hoshina slumped forward with a groan, catching himself before he collapsed fully on top of your sated frame. Your legs remained tangled around his waist, both of you too blissfully spent to move for several long minutes.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt Hoshina stir above you, a satisfied hum reverberating deep in his chest. Cracking open one eye, you found his mouth curled in a lopsided grin of smug masculine satisfaction, gaze glimmering with pure adoration.

"I didn’t know you could do that," he rasped, eyes dipping to watch the way the last few rivulets of milk trailed in pearlescent streams down your breasts. "If I’d known all it took was some good, rough fuckin' to get ya squirtin' like that, I woulda done it sooner—"

"Shut up," you groaned, cheeks flooding with molten heat. Your hands flew up to cover your face as if they could hide your embarrassment, only to be stopped by the iron bar of Hoshina's forearm.

"Uh uh, no hidin' now, darlin'," he drawled with an easy smirk, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours. "Besides, no use being bashful now. I’ve seen all those filthy, gorgeous bits you were tryin' to hide..."

He punctuated his statement with an easy roll of his hips, causing a fresh wave of his seed to trickle from your swollen core and down the curve of your ass. You shuddered in delight, still feeling the aftershocks tingling through your limbs.

"And ya can bet yer pretty little ass I'm gonna see plenty more before the night is through, mama..."

[bluesidez]

hiii love 💗 may I request a nsfw and a sfw alphabet thingy for gymrat miguel. I just need more of that man 😫😫

[Gym Rat Miguel SFW + NSFW Alphabet]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: GymRat!Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, fem!Reader

summary: Me answering questions and yapping about Gym Rat Miguel!

content warning: 18+ for the NSFW portion so MINORS DNI, most importantly THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL STORY (nothing too crazy, but some of the questions are things that haven’t happened yet + they haven’t even been together a year yet in the current story so there’s still much to discuss), lots of fluff, possibly the incorrect use of a fidget spinner?? (it's cute I swear)

word count: 9.1k, halfway proofread (sigh...)

a/n: Hi hii!! 🩵 You don’t know how happy I was to receive this request!! Any chances to talk about my Miguels outside of their actual stories are golden. 🥺 I tried to keep the responses brief so about 2+ paragraphs per question but we all know how much I like to write and yap 😭 so there's bound to be some long paragraphs. I do hope you enjoy!!! (This also gave me a chance to flesh out his character even more, which I appreciate more than you know, so truly, thank you Anon!)

I just refer to GR!Miguel as Miguel here because…we all know who I’m talking about.

A = Affection How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a really giant heart so he’s extremely affectionate especially when it comes to his girlfriend. Usually, boys are taught to kind of control their emotions, but even with those teachings/societal rules hanging over his head, he was always a sweet and kind baby growing up. His abuela especially taught him to lead with kindness. 

ᰔ ᩚ He shows affection often through action. While he’s really familiar with all of the love languages, he’s quicker to do something for someone (acts of service) before he does anything else. His second most used love language has to be words of affirmation. Words and communication are a sensitive thing for him so communication is key even if he can be oblivious about it sometimes. 

B = Best friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is definitely the "dad friend," or really, the "parent friend" that’s always making sure you’re ok. He knows how to parallel park and owns at least two of the ugliest ties you’ve ever seen in your life (thank you, George). He’s also EXTREMELY huggable, even in his tall and lanky days, and gives really nice advice. If you’re struggling with something, he would lay everything out and help you problem-solve. Overall, he’s just very sweet. 

ᰔ ᩚ For Miguel, a friendship could start with you constantly talking to (bugging) him or being able to keep up with his nerdy hobbies. You want to hear him sort out quantum physics? He’s sold. On the other end, anyone who is nice to him and treats him like a human has a fair game of becoming his friend.

C = Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ᰔ ᩚ Does he? He craves it! He will literally stop what he’s doing to find you just to cuddle. It’s like a way to regain his energy if you're in his arms. At the same time, he’s very comfortable despite all that hard muscle. At home, he usually wears soft sweaters and joggers so he is indeed like a giant teddy bear. The older he gets, the more his body gains a nice balance between fat and muscle so it’s just really comfortable all around.

ᰔ ᩚ When he cuddles, he’ll usually shove his face in some plush part of you. He definitely loves laying on your chest which he lovingly calls his pillows or your stomach or your lap. He’s really clingy. If you’re out and about, he'll cuddle you from behind with his chin on your head or keep an arm wrapped around your hips. When you ask for a cuddle, he’ll gladly hold you on top of him and probably fall asleep. 

D = Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

ᰔ ᩚ He wouldn’t mind settling down, but it depends more on how you feel rather than him. He’s heard many stories from his mother, Abuela, and tías about how hard childbirth is so he’s very wary of that pain being inflicted on you. His mother has told him multiple times about how giant he was when he was born so he’s scared that whatever baby he could give you might also be huge. After he learned of Tyler, Conchata told him that she wanted to cuss Tyler out, but all she had was George in the delivery room so he suffered her wrath not once, but twice. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has fantasized about you with his babies, but to his shame, it was more about the process of giving you his kids rather than having them run around. He has to admit, he would love to see chunky babies with a mix of you guys’ best qualities. One family reunion with you taking care of your baby cousins might put him in a spiral. He’s sure that you’ll be a great mama and he’s confident that he’ll be the best father. If that doesn’t work out, he’s aiming for tío of the year for the many nephews and nieces his brother is sure to have. 

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of domestic qualities, he’s spent so much time with his abuela that he knows more dishes than his mom. He’s also had times when his mom got sick of constantly cooking for him, so he’ll be up at the crack of dawn fixing his own meals. His cleaning could use a lot of work. He knows the basics, but his family always fusses at him to do more than that. In front of you? He becomes a new person. All of a sudden, he remembers the ways his mother fussed at him to clean the house.  

E = Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

ᰔ ᩚ Even though emotionally he’s extremely mature, he’d probably be a wreck when it comes to breaking up with you. He loves very deeply and separating from you has a high chance of sending him to the ER. If he doesn’t pass out while breaking up, he’d definitely be extremely sick afterwards. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he had to break up with you, he’d do it face to face because anything else is an insult to you. It’ll be somewhere public enough that you’re free to walk away from, but private enough to where no one will be like “wtf is up with those two?” He'll write out what he wants to say a thousand times over and have his desk littered with notebook paper. In his ‘speech’ he’ll praise you heavily but say something along the lines of “even though you are my sun, I can’t continue to drain your light.” Just VERY dramatic and heartfelt. He’d probably be sick enough to puke after watching you go. 

[Good thing this will NEVER HAPPEN. Even I, the angst lover, can not take that torture.]

F = Fiance(e) How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is fully committed to you even without the ring. He is quite the planner, so as soon as he reaches the end of undergrad, he’s already planning out his proposal. Of course, he’s asked you how you feel about marriage and has peeked over your shoulder at your Pinterest boards so he has an idea of what you would like. However, he’s truly a romantic, so he’s pulling out all of the stops. 

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t feel the need to get married right away because you both have huge futures to explore, but damn it, he wants people to know that you’re taken, so maybe he’ll buy you a promise ring. He’s willing to wait until you both have stable jobs before making the huge step to marriage, but he fights the urge to propose to you constantly. He also spoils you like crazy and he wants to earn the money for your rings rather than asking his family for help.

G = Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is the definition of a Gentle Giant. Really, it’s something that first grew from his mom always fussing at him to be a big boy so as to not make Gabriel upset, but his Grandma has always been so kind to him because she felt that Conchata treated him differently than Gabriel. 

ᰔ ᩚ Physically, he’s always extra aware of his surroundings because now, not only is he tall, but he’s also wide. There’s a new strength to him that he learned to control after roughhousing with Gabriel got a little too rough, ending in a fractured wrist bone. Miguel was crying more than Gabriel on the way to the hospital. He ended up helping him in saxophone practice for weeks. For you, you’re like his personal weighted plushie. He’s not going to be too rough, just firm squeezes every now and then. 

ᰔ ᩚ Emotionally, he’s always careful of what he says to others. It takes A LOT for him to yell or blow a fuse. He knows how much words can hurt so he never wants what he says to be the reason that someone is hurt. He cries at the drop of a hat. He’s gotten better at not crying so easily, but he definitely can’t see people he cares about cry. That night that you sobbed in his arms, he cried a little with you then and a lot while you were in the shower. When you first got together, he feared that his tears might be the breaking point for you but every time he cries in front of you, you’re there to wipe them away. 

He’s definitely crying on your wedding day.

H = Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

ᰔ ᩚ He loves hugs, but he’s certain that his family is sick of his hugs. Just like how big dogs don’t realize how big they are when curling up somewhere, he is very similar when he goes to hug his closest family. His Abuela will often fuss about how he’s just a big baby and Gabriel sets a three-minute time limit, claiming that he’s going to transfer his body heat if he hugs past that. His dad is not really known for hugging and his mom gets irritated too fast. You are the only one who can stand his hugs that feel like they last a lifetime. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s hugs feel like really warm firm clouds. His waist is itty bitty so your arms can completely go around it but if you put your hands in other areas, he’s bound to start borderline purring. You’re a lot softer than him so he craves seeking you out for hugs. He likes to give them for any occasion: when you’re about to part, when you see each other for the first time in a while, when you finish a set, when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re out shopping and are indecisive about which color of a product you should buy, when you’re taking too long in the art store, when you’re fresh out the shower, etc. He’s just a cuddle bug read: clingy boyfriend.

I = I love you How fast do they say the L-word?

ᰔ ᩚ [According to the story] Miguel calls you his love over the phone during Thanksgiving break which is about four months after knowing you and about three months into dating. He calls you his darling by the time the New Year comes around, he also won over your mom a little after Valentine’s, and he admits to himself that he’s falling in love by the time the spring semester has ended.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t say he loves you out loud until the dinner party after everyone pisses him off which is roughly seven months into dating. However, all of his actions from the handwritten cards to the handmade crafts to the thoughtful gifts to the sweet words have all been signs of his growing love for you. Quite frankly, he would have told you he loved you sooner if he didn’t want to freak you out and he tells you so the night his mother demeans you.

J = Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

ᰔ ᩚ You haven’t seen the extent of how jealous Miguel can get, truly, you just know of the couple of times he’s almost knocked people out or been completely rude to the people he’s thought were trying to lead you on when he was standing right there. He has shocked himself with how green he gets but it doesn’t stop him from feeling that way. When he gets jealous, he’ll find little ways to show others that you’re his such as PDA, lingering a bit too close to you, glaring directly at others whose eyes are planted on you for far too long, or getting really mean towards people who make advances.

ᰔ ᩚ Oddly enough, he’s never aware of the things that he does that attracts others because he’s so busy trying to be cordial that it may come off as flirty. It’s very hard for him to push people off him because that’s never really happened to him until he started bulking up and again, he doesn’t want to hurt people that haven’t hurt him.

K = Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s kisses are consuming and soft, warm and inviting. He gives you his full attention and pours his entire heart into it. The feeling of him against you only really leaves you wanting more, so you have to snap out of it and tell yourself to regain control. He could probably spend an entire day just in your face making out without ever going further, but he might need frequent trips to the bathroom to calm himself down. 

ᰔ ᩚ He likes to kiss you on your lips mostly but his other favorite places to kiss you are your stomach, your collarbones, and your thighs. He has to limit himself from leaving marks all over your skin because he’s keen to do it if you don’t stop him. He also likes to be kissed on the lips and he especially loves it when he doesn’t expect them. Surprise kisses have him on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. He really loves it when you won’t bother to reach up to him or lean him down and you settle on kissing him in the middle of his chest. It feels like your lips warm up his heartbeat. Lastly, he feels ignited when you leave kisses on his back, especially the back of his neck. To him, it’s like a promise for more or a way to ignite him. Start kissing his back and he’s not letting you leave him for at least 20 minutes. 

L = Little ones How are they around children?

ᰔ ᩚ Kids use him like a jungle gym. He is a fan favorite amongst his baby cousins who are always asking to be thrown in the air. He would think some babies would be afraid of him, but once they’re in his arms, they’re either really excited about how high off the ground they are or they’ll fall asleep instantly in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’ll often tire the babies and kiddos out and his family will find him in a pile with him as the pillow to little heads. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another key thing is that he won’t use baby voices with babies, but rather he’ll talk to them like normal human beings. It’s very useful when he has to break up fights between his baby cousins who often argue over who gets to play with him first.

M = Morning How are mornings spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Mornings with Miguel are more like Miguel going to do his workout while you sleep. You’re not really a morning person, so you’re a bit drowsy whenever he kisses you all over your face before he leaves. He always chuckles at your sleepy state and urges himself to not get distracted, but more often than not, he wants to stay with you. Some mornings, he’ll get right back in the bed with you after his shower and kiss you until you wake up. 

ᰔ ᩚ On the mornings that you do go with him to the gym, it’s mostly him talking with you humming along one-word answers until you’re actually fighting for your life in the gym. Afterwards, he always takes you to go get breakfast whether that’s a smoothie or him making you something. 

N = Night How are nights spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Nights with Miguel are very loving! If you let him, he’d do everything from shower with you to brushing teeth together to skincare to hair care and so on. Being that both introverts and creatives often work/operate better at night, sometimes you both are up at all times of night doing anything. You could be drawing on your iPad while he’s up playing games with your feet in his lap.  

ᰔ ᩚ Sometimes this is also when he lets his most intimate thoughts slip out. With his head on your chest and your nails scratching against his scalp, he’s in his most vulnerable state.

O = Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than revealing things about himself, all of his drama just happens to unfold for him. The way he brought up Tyler Stone, the super famous tech CEO, being his father just happened to be the time when you were doing something extremely serious. 

ᰔ ᩚ He can tell you things and open up about his past, but you never really grasp how serious it is until it appears before your eyes. His turmoil with Kron was 4+ years in the making and the first time you met Kron just so happened to be the time Miguel connected his fist to his face. His relationship with his mom is something that’s been an uphill battle and you haven’t really seen how bad it can get, but you’ve felt how cruel she could be. Tyler's yearning for a relationship with his youngest son is something you see happening in real-time. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is as open as he can be, but nothing ever really prepares you for the real deal.

P = Patience How easily angered are they?

ᰔ ᩚ It takes a lot to push Miguel’s buttons because he often lets things pile up and boil over. He’s not easily pushed to true anger until someone hurts the people he loves. One time, Gabriel kept coming home crying but he wouldn’t tell Miguel who was hurting him. Once Miguel found out, he ripped the kid a new one which led to Conchatta grounding him for a week. His Abuela was proud of him for standing up for his brother and Gabriel snuck him sweets when he thought their parents weren’t looking. 

ᰔ ᩚ He really wanted to say more to his mother that night she hurt you, but Kron took most of the brunt of that anger which helped him level out a more reasonable response to his mother. He doesn’t like seeing you hurt especially over things that he finds to be beautiful about you.

Q = Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been taking in details about you ever since he first saw you in his Biology class. It was almost as if he was studying you. He knows your favorites, he remembers your friends, he listens to you constantly, and stores things for later. He even begins to know the subtle habits that you have. 

ᰔ ᩚ The only things that tend to go over his head are when you mention really advanced art techniques. As much as he tries, it never really sticks. He also conveniently forgets how often he asks for cuddles.

R = Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a bank of lovely memories about you stored in his mind (and many more to come 😗). One of his favorite memories was when you went out of your way to make sure that those sorority girls got suspended. He often lets bad things happen to him until he can't control it, but you immediately caught the situation and nipped it in the bud right away. He’s never really had anyone do anything to that extent for him as fast as you did and even though he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with you before, from that moment he knew that you were special.

ᰔ ᩚ Another memory is the last-minute birthday present that you got for him. It was so thoughtful and sweet and he’s constantly using it. The two of you were only at the sproutings of a relationship so to make such an impactful gift meant a lot.

S = Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s extremely protective. This means little things from making sure that he’s the one walking closer to the street and watching your drink while you’re dancing to big things like intervening when men don’t catch the hint to roughing up men that don’t respect your boundaries. He’s willing to use his brute strength in order to make sure no harm comes to you but he hopes it never has to get to that point. He’d rather use his strength to carry you in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel doesn’t really feel the need to be protected but when you go out of your way to protect him, he can’t help but think that it feels nice. Like, look at my girlfriend going out of her way to make sure that I’m alright, to make sure that I know that I deserve to be protected too. There’s really no other feeling like it to him.

T = Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel goes through so much effort for anything that involves you. He tends to go a little stir-crazy when planning. He marks up his calendar, sets appointments, makes calls, pulls certain strings: anything he can do to see a smile on your face. He remembers so many details about you just so he can pull together the perfect gift. With Tyler trying to get on his good side, he may or may not have asked him to help him out with things that are on the expensive side. 

ᰔ ᩚ However, there are things he does that does not involve so much money. Your cafe dates, your study dates in the library, your handmade gifts, and your nights riding around in his Range Rover getting late-night food. If you’re sick, he’ll bring you tea and make you soup. He’s there when you’re cramping, soft hoodie on and heating pad in hand. He waits for you after your art classes, ready to carry your portfolio across campus. He takes your glasses off when you fall asleep with them on and soaks your oil brushes when you’re in a rush. He cares about you deeply.

ᰔ ᩚ Your one-year anniversary is soon…what does Miguel have planned? 🤔

U = Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a nasty habit of overthinking. He often thinks too much for his own good, which is why exercising is so close to him as it forces him to focus on his form and his sets rather than the running hamster wheel of words in his mind. His overthinking could lead to imposter syndrome which in turn causes him to question whether or not he deserves the nice things he has, whether or not he deserves to be with you. With the big reveal of the man he’s known all of his life not actually being his dad, it really only dug a deeper hole into the habit he’s had ever since his mom’s different treatment of him versus Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ On the other end of the spectrum, he can be a bit of a perfectionist which can lead to stubbornness. Conchata has berated him all of his life, so at first, he felt the need to appeal to her good side as her son. The older he got, the more this turned into battles of proving her wrong. No, he wasn’t a bad influence on Gabriel. Yes, he could get all A’s and stay up playing video games. No, he wasn’t afraid to end up alone. Yes, he would try to go to some far-off college. 

ᰔ ᩚ His relationship with his mother is far from fixed, and there's no telling how these habits are to continue to affect his other relationships.

V = Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

ᰔ ᩚ At first, Miguel would just own a few nice looks here and there. He’d only really care about the quality of his graphic tees, the softness of his sweaters, and trying to avoid high-water pants. Between his parents and his grandma, a lot of the clothes he got made him resemble a lanky old man. It wasn’t until he started to bulk up that his wardrobe took a change. His old tees could barely fit over his arms and the bigger ones got turned into crop tops to chill out in. His sweaters went to Gabriel who threw them in the deepest pits of his closet. 

ᰔ ᩚ Gabriel ended up styling him at one point which resulted in a lot of extra basketball shorts and god-awful t-shirt hoodies. If it weren’t for Dana and his older cousins telling him that he looked like an extra off of Jersey Shore, he would have never changed. He quietly asked Tyler for some kind of stylist which in turn helped him to find more clothes that fit his new body type. 

ᰔ ᩚ When you come around, you expand his style even more with your eye for detail and your insistence on having coordinating outfits. You know what looks good on him and with the way your eyes trail his body, he for sure knows what you think is hot.

W = Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

ᰔ ᩚ Absolutely. 1000%. (More of this will play out a bit in Part 10…)

ᰔ ᩚ Obviously, in any Honeymoon stage of a relationship, the couple can feel extremely lonely without their other half. Miguel is an absolute yearner. He hates parting ways no matter how at ease he feels by himself. He never really thought of himself as someone who needs a partner, but now that he has you, he’s trying to juggle between knowing when to give you space and knowing when to impede your space. He feels a lot lighter when you’re around, a lot freer. Tackling college felt so foreign to him, but with you, he feels like he can conquer anything. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you were to ever leave this world before him, there would already be enough bits and pieces of you left to fill the half of his missing heart. The only thing is, he would miss your presence dearly and that radiant smile of yours. In his dreams would be the only place where he could feel whole again. X = Xtra A random headcanon for them.

I have three

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves PDA, but sometimes, you’re still a bit shy about it, so you found a compromise: a fidget ring. When he wants to love on you so bad that he can’t stand it, but you’re hyper-aware of the people around you, he’ll take your hand and just start spinning the ring. It’s your sign that he’s craving your touch. It doubles as a distraction when you’re in crowded spaces and his energy levels are low. You can tell when he’s ready to leave an event with the way he’s fidgeting with the ring. A slower tempo means he wants to exit a conversation, a faster tempo could mean he’s overwhelmed or nervous, and moving the entire ring around means he’s ready to go. It’s an effective system for communication between the two of you.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves, loves, LOVES girly pop music. It gives him so much energy during his workouts and what’s better is that they’re really catchy. He hasn’t gone out of his way to watch any of the music videos or learn the dances, but take him to a concert, and he’s bound to know the words. He also has a high chance of being put on the Jumbotron or being called up on stage which could lead to intense screams from others and an awkward dance from him. Gabriel has a stan account that he refuses to show his brother’s face on because he knows it’s bound to be his most popular post.

ᰔ ᩚ Even though he’s extremely book smart and intelligent, when it comes to you, the Himbo gene activates. One compliment from you, no matter how small it is, could have him grinning like a fool all day. Whatever it is you complimented him on will be brought to the forefront constantly. He’ll buy a horrid amount of cologne just because you said you liked the way he smelled that day. He’ll take pictures of himself at the same angle because you thought one photo of him was good enough to put as your phone background. He’ll get worked up with one touch in public from you, especially if you haven’t touched him all day that day. He might even do something that you mentioned off-handedly from a TikTok or a tweet like buy a t-shirt with your face on it or have the lights on his Range Rover doors reflect your name. Sometimes you have to tell him to cool it, but if you praise him for it, he’s going to keep doing it.

Y = Yuck What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

ᰔ ᩚ In general, Miguel doesn’t like when people aren’t direct. He’s not a mind reader so he prefers when people say exactly how they feel rather than beat around the bush. People have done that far too much with him so he gets irritated when he’s put in a situation where the other party is not being upfront with him. He also hates when people are bullies for no reason. He’s not here to figure out why someone is taking out their insecurities on others but he will put them in their place. 

ᰔ ᩚ He also severely hates when people interrupt his sets. If you see he’s using the machine and he’s in the zone, why are you bothering him? He likes to think that he gives off the energy of a determined Gym Bro but in reality, he just looks really hot racking up those weights. Either way, don’t fuck up his set.

ᰔ ᩚ In a partner, he wouldn’t want someone that disrespects his family. He knows it’s a little dysfunctional, but his partner has to be truly dedicated to him before they even think about complaining about his family. He also tends to like his partners on the thicker side. He’s for all bodies, but he prefers when his partner has something he can feel so he honestly wouldn’t like it if his partner was too much smaller than him. 

Z = Zzz What is a sleep habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel always needs to hold onto something when he sleeps. Whether that be the pillow, the comforter, or you, he needs something in his arms. It can make for a very hot bed so whenever you guys are going to sleep together or taking a nap, you make sure to have a fan right by the bed. More often than not, he’s sleeping without a shirt on.

ᰔ ᩚ One other habit is how he gets when he’s really sleepy. He gets a bit whiny and grabby with tears threatening to fall with how much he’s yawning. He’ll say things that he won’t remember the next day like how pretty you are or how much he loves you. He might talk in his sleep a bit before he’s completely out of it which makes for hilarious videos. Like this, his snores are a little louder and his face pressed against the pillow is super cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ In the morning time, when he doesn’t have a workout planned, he might have a little drool from how hard he slept. If you wake up before him, he’ll squint at the light and mumble about what time it is. 

[THE MAJORITY OF THIS SECTION CONTAINS THE TRUE SPOILERS]

A = Aftercare what they’re like after sex

ᰔ ᩚ During sex, he gets in a specific mindset similar to the one he has in the gym, so it might take him a minute or so to snap out of it. He’ll be so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he’ll forget that he needs to stop and make sure that you’re ok. Once he’s back focused, he’ll wipe your body clean and massage the muscles he’s sure to have stretched out. After that, he’s in dire need of cuddles and kisses.

B = Body part their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

ᰔ ᩚ Other than his face, which he agrees is pretty hot, his favorite body part of his own might be his arms. He worked hard for them! He’s always shocked looking back at old pictures of himself, seeing how he’s nearly triple the size, and wondering who that guy is. He also thinks that the Stone side has blessed him greatly with his dick. He’s always been well-endowed. When you came into his life, he found a new great appreciation for his own thighs, although he’s still battling with the thought of you wanting to be choked in them.

ᰔ ᩚ For you, what part of you doesn’t he like? He couldn’t really choose if his life depended on it because there’s so much to love. However, there’s no better feeling than the weight of your ass and thighs against his lap. If you could use him as a chair constantly, he’ll never complain. It’s the perfect position for him to feel you up and plant his face right in your cleavage. If your back is to him while you’re on his lap, then his hands are immediately on your stomach. You used to hate it at first because he would just squeeze at it or tickle you constantly, but he really loves to place his hands on the warmest parts of you, and right under your stomach happens to be one of those zones. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he said he liked his forehead being pressed up against your stomach while he ate you out, you wouldn’t get mad, right?

C = Cum anything to do with cum, basically

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel hasn’t really talked about it with you but, he especially loves it when he marks you. You always look so pretty with him painted across his skin, and he has so much to give. When his dick is down your throat and you try your best to swallow all of him, he feels feverish when it spills out down your face. He can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look. When he’s fucking your thighs and it spills onto your skin he just wants to rub it in.

ᰔ ᩚ When he’s inside of you and it just won’t stop dripping out of you, it riles him up even more. You’re his and his alone.

D = Dirty secret pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

ᰔ ᩚ He does have a few! One of which is fantasizing about you riding him on the bench press bench while the other side of the gym is occupied. It’s so unlike him, and when the thought first passed his mind, he was so ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes for a day, nor use the bench press without getting lightheaded. Just the thought of you leaning over him blocking out the bright lights of the gym, sweat dripping onto him,  and watching your ass hit his skin in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors was enough to get him to plan out how to build out his gym in his future home. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another is the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you before you were officially together. He told you about the wet dreams, but he didn’t tell you how bad it was. He’s not sure if he’s ever produced that much cum in his life. It’s a wonder he was able to hold steady conversations with you with how head-over-heels he was. He fantasized about the sounds you would make and tried to remember how your body felt against his from the little touches you gave him. He tried to hone it down because, god, that’s creepy, but you were so radiant that you never really escaped his mind.

E = Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is what I deem as a “virgin slut.” He’s very inexperienced when it comes to love, relationships, and sex, but he knows too much by proxy.  Again, he’s the parent friend that’s always giving advice, so for the most part, he knows what and what not to do. He’s heard about the things that his friends have done and he’s wondered what experiencing it would be like with you.

ᰔ ᩚ Would you like this position? Would you want to try this with him? Does he want to know what this would feel like? While he feels a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, he’s happy that you’re excited to share these new experiences with him.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of sex and foreplay, he’s learning as he goes, going with what feels good and what you react well to. He’s constantly researching, remembering, and trying out new techniques. You’re his first, and if he has any say in it, his last, so he feels that there is plenty of time to get to a more experienced level.

F = Favorite position this goes without saying

ᰔ ᩚ Any position where your breasts are in his face is a position he’s happy in. There’s nothing like watching them bounce while you ride him within an inch of his life. He wants to look at them, he wants to put his mouth on them, he wants to suck them, he wants to bite them: just put them in his face.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel also really adores any position he can hold you in. He notices how excited your body gets when he’s balancing you in his arms while pounding away. You get so wet that he’s mesmerized. The tight feeling of both you around him and your shaking hands gripping his shoulders keeps him going. He really just wants to see every ounce of your body move with him.

ᰔ ᩚ Did he tell you that he wanted you to sit on his face today or did he forget to set his reminder? 

G = Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is very serious in the moment because nothing is funny about your pleasure. All the laughing and giggling will happen before he’s sinking into you. He’s very serious about watching your face and your body for anything new and familiar. Did you think something was funny before? Well, he’s making sure that you’re not laughing by the time he’s finished.

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than being goofy, he will ask you something out of left field in the middle of the moment if he feels that you two have something to work out.

H = Hair how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is not the hairiest but he also doesn’t not have hair. His friend waxed him for practice one time and he’s certain that he’ll never let her do that shit again. He keeps his face clean because he feels like growing out his facial hair makes him look scruffy, although you’d argue that he looks pretty cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ His happy trail does lead like a nice present to his gift that keeps giving. He will let you trim him from time to time and help him wax when the sun is getting too hot. 

I = Intimacy how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

ᰔ ᩚ He is very intimate during the moment, especially during your first few times together. He’s always reassuring you and holding you close. His eyes never really leave your face when you’re pleasuring yourself or reaching your peak. He loves to talk into your skin and your ears. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he’s not grabbing onto you, he’s holding your hands and rocking into you. He’s kissing your wrists and your cheeks, wiping any tears away. Where you might not be able to speak, he’s asking yes or no questions, wiping your hair out of your face, and telling you to let go. 

J = Jack off masturbation headcanon

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s sessions usually take a lot, but since gaining a roommate, he can’t go all out like he usually does. He cums a lot so he usually has to put a towel down or waits until he gets into the shower to fully let go. He prefers to use both hands whether that means lifting his hips off the bed while he jerks or holding his dick in one hand while playing with his nipple in another. 

ᰔ ᩚ His sessions after you both get together were even messier, especially with you giving him new material. Voice recordings, polaroids, phone calls: all of it is being used for him to get off when you’re not near. 

ᰔ ᩚ Once, you called him in the middle of one and he was winded as ever. You recognized those breaths the instant he talked and brought him to the hilt with your voice alone. He fell a little more in love with you that day but panicked when you wanted to switch to FaceTime. 

ᰔ ᩚ His chest was….a mess, but you giggled at how cute he was anyway. 

K = Kink one or more of their kinks

ᰔ ᩚ Praise kink: Miguel loves to hear that he’s doing well. Please tell him that he’s doing well, he craves it. There’s definitely a reason that he needs to hear you urge him on, but your voice always sounds so good when you’re in his ear. Tell him how good he made you feel, tell him you’re proud of him, and maybe call him a good boyfriend and he’ll start trembling. 

ᰔ ᩚ Hair pulling: This is one that he didn’t know he had until you accidentally yanked his head too hard while trying to stop him from tickling your stomach with his breath. He kind of froze when the groan came out of him, leaving you staring at each other for about three minutes. Once he realized what happened, his face went beat red and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes for the rest of the night. You promised him it was ok, and tested out a little hair-pulling a few weeks later which he thoroughly enjoyed. He especially loves it when you pull his hair while he’s in between your legs. He cums almost instantly. 

ᰔ ᩚ Semi-public sex: There’s something about fooling around in “private” public areas that turns him on. On the balconies of hotel rooms, in private yacht pools, in dressing rooms, in his car: he just can’t wait until he’s in the bedroom, he needs you now. Are you both louder than you should be? Yep. Does he care? Not really. 

L = Location favorite places to do the do

ᰔ ᩚ Again, he loves semi-public sex, but he also really loves even more intimate places like on vacation in your hotel room or on your dorm bed when Jess isn’t in there. (Although you’ve told him many times that having sex in that open room could be rude. As a compromise, he brings you to his dorm and fucks you there instead. Peter can live.) He really wants to make love to you in his childhood bedroom (the room is full of him but he wants your scent in his sheets), but he knows his mom is far too nosy for that to even happen. He’s not even sure if he could make out with you without her coming in there to check on you two. 

M = Motivation what turns them on, gets them going

ᰔ ᩚ Honestly, you could probably just stand there and Miguel would conjure up a way to be turned on. Seriously though, it’s little things like seeing your midriff or hearing you call him baby in a different tone, especially if you’re doing something sexual, that gets him going. If you do something like extensive PDA (rubbing up against him, kissing him long enough to use tongue, dancing on him), wear clothes that show off your body, or when you stare at him while he’s doing his work.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re wearing a dress that he can see your fupa through? Hard. When you’re doing jumping jacks next to him in the gym during his sets? Turned on. When you wear his clothes? Rock solid. When you take the initiative? Puddy. When you let others know that he’s yours? You might not make it to your destination without him touching you in some way.

N = No something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

ᰔ ᩚ He’s not into degradation AT ALL. He’s way too much of a gentle lover/boyfriend to ever put you on a lower level than him whether it’s supposed to be enjoyable or not. 

ᰔ ᩚ He is also not into pain specifically when it comes to giving it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He might do a light smack every now and then but he can’t bring himself to inflict pain, especially if it bruises. The closest you might get to that is if he gets too carried away when pounding into you, and once it’s all over, he’ll feel like a dickhead. It takes him a while to realize that you don’t mind it when his skin is slapping against yours hard enough to sting later.

ᰔ ᩚ One last slight turn off is choking. He’s never going to be comfortable enough to wrap his hands around your neck. You’re determined to let his thighs squeeze you at least once, but if he hurts you by accident, he might do something incredibly drastic. 

O = Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel O’Hara is a munch. Miguel Munch O’Hara. He could stay down there for hours. Being that the first time he ate you out he actually had you screaming, he would say that he’s pretty good at it. But! There’s always room for improvement. For example, he wants you to sit on him and he wants to heat you out while you’re sitting on his shoulders. He’s slowly, but surely, inching his way there.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes giving more than receiving mostly because he can’t look down at you giving him head without losing his mind. At least if he’s eating you out, he can keep going if he cums. If he cums while you’re swallowing him, he needs at least a minute or two to reset. Not to mention, the sounds your throat makes when you’re sucking him in makes him conflicted. You promise you like it, and he loves the feeling, but he’s still wary of fucking into your mouth and hurting you.

P = Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s pace is deep, slow, and sensual because he has to pace himself. If he’s wrapped up in you, he’s bound to forget about his own pleasure in place of making sure you’re feeling good, but once you get to sinking him in and squeezing so tight, he wants to hold that out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ They seem nice. If only he could commit to them. Quickies often turn from 10 minutes to 20 minutes to way too long in a compromising position. Also, there’s way too much to clean up for what he does with you to be considered a quickie.

R = Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ With you? He’s willing to try most things, although they’re mainly vanilla. Risks for him might lead to late night trips to CVS for a pregnancy test so it’s best that he researches and plans things out thoroughly. Right now, the most he might be eager to do is change up the positions and try not to touch you.

S = Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a lot of stamina! He’s not in the gym for shits and giggles. Still, to him, he has a lot of work to do in terms of going all night. Right now, he can last for about 2-3 rounds without breaking a sweat. If he focuses on you, he can extend that number to about 4 rounds. His refractory period is also pretty stellar if he must say so himself.

ᰔ ᩚ Now, whether or not you can keep up with him is to be determined. 

T = Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been too scared to own a toy living in his mother’s home, so he’s never bought one. (How Gabriel got away with buying the most obscure things, he’ll never know) The only thing he has is the bottle of lube that he frequents and his extra sets of towels to cover his bed.

ᰔ ᩚ On you, he’s happy to try out whatever you’ve got. He was really fascinated with the mechanics of your rose toy, but he’s also determined to make you have the same reaction with just his mouth alone. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t make you forget about your tiny pieces of plastic?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s also interested in trying out different types of lube, but he’s got to research which ones are really worth it.

U = Unfair how much they like to tease

ᰔ ᩚ Open the dictionary, flip to the T section, slide down the pages until you find the word “tease,”  and you’ll see Miguel’s government name on the third definition of the word. He likes to claim that you’re a tease when really, he’s just a horny himbo. He knows what he’s doing when he sends you sweaty gym pictures. He knows what he’s doing when he dresses up all nice for you. He knows what he’s doing he’s all in your face in public, feening for a reaction out of you. He messes with you on purpose. 

ᰔ ᩚ Let this behavior make it to the bedroom and he’s either going to regret it once you take over OR he’s going to continue it until you’re coming apart in his arms. Teasing you always leads to great, great sex.

V = Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is loud as fuck. He has to cover his mouth when he’s alone in his room thinking about you. When he’s inside of you, if he’s not moaning into your mouth, he’s breathing heavy right in your ear or groaning loudly right into your shoulders. He’ll often be louder than you. If you’re moaning with him, he encourages you and sings right along with you. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re focusing on his pleasure, he’s hyper-aware of the sounds he makes so he tries to muffle them which leads to whimpers and whines. You love it when he gets this way.

W = Wild card a random headcanon for the character

ᰔ ᩚ Hip thrusts are a great exercise for the lower half of your body and should never be missed on leg day. They pinpoint the glutes, the abs, the hips, the hamstrings, the back, and the quads. With a steady added weight, anyone who is doing this exercise possibly is sure to grow those muscles greatly over time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is never missing a chance to do hip thrusts because he is determined to fuck you this way. He can only imagine the shock on your face as he holds you up and pumps into you with a steady rhythm. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’s never missing leg day.

X = X-ray let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

ᰔ ᩚ He’s definitely a shower which is why his tiny little exercise shorts can get buck-eyed looks sometimes. The first time you saw him, you felt yourself panic a bit. But the weight in your mouth? Indescribable. 

ᰔ ᩚ To you, he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess, he’s probably 8- 9 inches, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re watching him leak like a faucet. He curves so nicely and definitely feel the effect of it when he lands. Watching it twitch to life has given you more inspiration than you care to admit.

Y = Yearning how high is their sex drive?

ᰔ ᩚ It’s too high for his own good. He can switch like a light and be ready to go down in you within minutes. It’s that foggy himbo mindset and the fact that you’re his first girlfriend. There have been many times where he’s gotten distracted by just thinking about you and the things he wants to do. He riles himself up when researching techniques, so of course he’s ready to be in you at any time.

Z = Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

ᰔ ᩚ Once you’ve both settled down, he’s out like a log. Let’s be real, not only has he probably worked himself up, but you definitely knocked him out with how good you gave it to him. He uses all the stamina during sex and when it’s over, the energy just fizzles out. It’s funny because you would think you were supposed to be the one that’s barely holding on, but there he is, mumbling into your skin.

ᰔ ᩚ This is definitely the time to get really soft responses out of him: satisfied, pussy-whipped, and dozing off.

This was really fun! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

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[mrsbarnesblog]

wakanda

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, sex in Bucky's hut, he has one arm, woman on top, unprotected sex, dirty talk, insecurity.

Author's note: posting my old fic, while I'm working on that tattoo artist x bookshop owner one👀 If any of you have smut ideas (with some kinks maybe), feel free to write your requests

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. Unfortunately, Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky, so you weren’t allowed to see him.

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

At first, you had to visit Shuri and TChalla to talk through some moments, and that whole time you were bubbling with nerves and anticipation to finally see Bucky. 

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face in your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, not to mention that he looked fantastic. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two rushed to his hut with the food you had bought from a local cafe owned by a kind old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill. 

Bucky talked about his goats and the way he felt better living in Wakanda, while you unconsciously moved closer to him, needing to fill the void that formed while you couldn’t see him. Bucky just stopped in the middle of the sentence, as if he realized that you were too close, looking at him with your big, pretty eyes. 

Food was forgotten. Somehow, you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and hot kiss you had ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to keep you close.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth; your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss. Bucky couldn’t get enough of your taste; he bit your lip, then licked it with his tongue to calm down the delicate skin.

It felt so natural, like it was meant to happen a long time ago, and now you could not keep all of your emotions inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts. 

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m so sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink blush on his cheeks.

"I want it, Bucky; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?" He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to express your unsaid feelings. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.” 

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort. 

“Just leave it on, okay?” 

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?” 

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked stunning with his slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and lustful and needy eyes. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.” 

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time. 

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes. 

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.” 

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however and wherever you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Shit–  how are you so soft…” Bucky's hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and reaching for your sensitive nipples. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he did at that moment—to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?” 

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just—fuck!” 

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching behind you, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky placed his hand on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, and you were not able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers. 

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside. 

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face. 

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, as well as skin slapping against skin. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end. 

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, drawing you in for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body. 

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm. 

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? Will you let me feel you up?” 

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit. 

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me; ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body. 

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him. 

You weren't sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.” 

part 2

[fastandcarlos]

Ray Of Sunshine : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: even on the darkest of days you're always there to make logan smile again somehow

You knew the moment the door slammed how your evening was going to unfold.

Your eyes didn’t even need to look up as you heard familiar mumblings under someone’s breath, heavy footsteps trudging through the driver’s room, sighs released every so often. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as Logan entered, his dejected state was something that you had to come to expect supporting him recently, nothing seemed to fall his way and his was becoming a harsher critic of himself with every week that passed. You could only take so much, hating the way the races seemed to beat any positivity out of him.

“I give up,” he despairingly grumbled.

It was the same each week, you sat in your own bubble and gave Logan a moment to let go of his frustrations. Everything he touched was slammed back down, every little problem was blown way out of proportion, and the Williams hoodie that he wore was taken off as quickly as possible. To say that luck wasn’t on Logan’s side was an understatement, you could see for yourself that every little thing that could go wrong was going wrong for him right now. Once his usual steps were complete, you stood up and placed your hand gently against Logan’s shoulder, feeling his body tense up as soon as he felt your touch on him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

There was a pause between you before Logan reacted, turning his head to glance back at you. There was no emotion on his face, his energy was empty, not even you seemed to be able to bring any enthusiasm back into Logan again.

After a few moments he simply smiled back at you before stepping away, leaving you stood in confusion in the middle of the room. You were used to Logan taking a little while to respond to you after a disappointing race, but even this was extreme by his standards. Most of the time you at least saw a hint of a smile on his face, but Logan had nothing left. His eyes were nowhere near as bright as they usually were, his confident stance had disappeared, replaced by a man who looked as if he couldn’t take the constant bottom place finishes any longer.

“It’s going to get better,” you tried to tell him, keeping your eyes firmly on Logan. “It’s not always going to be this way.”

“I can’t see any way out right now,” he admitted, letting go of yet another sigh. Your heart sunk as you listened to Logan, watching him scuff his feet along the floor before taking a seat, head in his hands.

“You’re a talented driver Logan, your time is going to come soon enough.”

“Yeah? When?!” The sudden rise in Logan’s voice made your body freeze, not expecting to be struck by such a harsh tone. “Every week I get humiliated by my team, my car, they’ve made it so clear they don’t want me anymore, so what’s the point of doing this anymore?”

You were left speechless by Logan’s sudden outburst, running your hands over the top of your head. Part of you wanted to run, but you knew deep down Logan couldn’t stand being left alone with his own thoughts after the race that he’d had. Despite how hard you tried to get him to see the positives, he just couldn’t do it, despite how encouraging you always tried to be with him. You tried your best to get Logan’s feelings, to sympathise with him but you had never been in that car, those dreaded team meetings, never had to hear the remarks that so many experts made about him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that.”

A faint whisper came from across the room, capturing your attention. Logan’s soft eyes looked across at you, his hand stretching out, offering for you to take a hold of it. Instantly you could hear how genuine Logan was in his voice, if there was one person who didn’t deserve to have all of this taken out on them, it was definitely you.

“You might not think it, but I’m disappointed too that this is how things are going right now,” you spoke, taking a hold of Logan’s hand.

I would do anything to make this better for you, to give you all of the things that you deserve and make sure you’re acknowledged for the amazing human being that you are.”

“I don’t need anything else when I’m with you.”

His reply captured you, it left you stunned as your wide eyes looked across at him. The smallest of smiles appeared on Logan’s face as he realised how shy you had suddenly become, feeling your heart race as you stumbled over your words, not quite sure what to say.

“Everything else might suck, but that doesn’t matter when I know that I’ve got you,” Logan whispered, pulling you close to him.

“You’re always going to have me, I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You chuckled, nudging gently against Logan’s side. You intertwined your hand in tighter with his, giving it a slight squeeze.

“I don’t think I’d carry on doing this week in week out if it wasn’t for your support,” Logan noted, his sincere eyes sticking on you. Your head shook as you met his gaze once again, you had every confidence that Logan would achieve his dreams, even when he could only doubt himself.

“I’m sorry if I ever make you feel like I don’t appreciate you,” Logan added, “because I really do. It must be frustrating for you too watching me come last every week, I’m sure you’d probably love to be able to see me up on the podium like all of your friends get to do.”

“All of their boyfriends don’t compare to you though,” you grinned, chuckling to yourself.

“Well, I am the most handsome driver in F1,” Logan teased, throwing his free arm across your shoulders, “of course none of those guys compare.”

Your eyes rolled as the familiar character that you had come to know and love started to appear before you again, the deprecating Logan had gone, and the charming one returned.

“I don’t care where you start, finish, or what happens in between, I’m always going to be with you, we’re a team,” you reminded him, leaning your head down so that it rested against Logan’s broad shoulder.

In Logan’s room was where the two of you stayed for most of the evening, shutting yourselves out from the chaos of the paddock. There was noise all around you, but none of that mattered, you had each other, and that was all that counted, especially to Logan anyway. Beyond those four walls he didn’t care what anyone else had to say about him, because he had you, his bright sunshine, even on those cloudiest of days.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ursuu-la]

Just in time. - S. Reid.

summary: Where Spencer was at the right place and time.

wc: 1.9k

tw: mentions of suicid3, suicid3 att3mpt, not feeling enough, driving at full speed(?).

a/n: this is not exactly romantic, but I felt the need to post something angsty and this was the first thing that came to my mind. I hope that you enjoy it, but that you don't identify with the feelings :( if so, my inbox is open♡

Also, requests are open!! I think I'll write about Hotch too, just so yk

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"See you guys tomorrow!" Spencer waved goodbye and walked out the door. You smiled before he left and turned your attention back to your stuff.

You were organazing all the things on your desk, at the same time you kept on your bag the ones you always took home: your phone, your keys, and some paperwork that you didn't want to finish in the office. It was almost 9p.m. and there were now only three members of the team left in the office: Morgan, JJ and you.

Once you finished clearing your desk and had everything you needed inside your bag, you walked past JJ and Derek, greeting them both goodbye. You spoke a little with both of them, making sure that the case hadn't affected them so much. You cared about your friends, and wanted to be there for them if they needed someone to vent to. Both of them told you that they felt as usual, which conformed you.

"And you? How are you doing, (y/n)?" JJ asked when you finished checking up on her.

"Fine, I guess." You spoke and smiled to her. Your friend just returned the gesture, wished you goodnight, and then dragged her attention back to the paperwork.

You walked out of the office and, for a second, you kept the smile on your face, but then it slowly started to fade as you walked towards your car.

Even though you had just told JJ that you were feeling fine, the truth was that the last couple of months had been rough on you. The explanation was hard to find, but during this time, you were feeling... just bad about yourself. No matter how many people you saved or how many cases you solved with the team, whenever you got back home, you couldn't help but feel that you hadn't done enough.

The feeling started growing bigger and bigger as the months passed by. You had tried to speak about it with the rest of the team: but something was stopping you. It was frustrating because you didn't usually have any trouble communicating your emotions, and the fact that no one noticed you were struggling made you feel even worse.

Now you were driving back home, no music playing, only your thoughts filling your head. You remembered every part of the case, and as you replayed it in your head over and over, you found new ways in which you could have been more helpful.

"Agh... I hate this..." Your voice sounded frustrated. What was the point of keep going to cases if every single time you felt the same afterward? What was the point of having people around you if you couldn't open up to them and vent your feelings? What was the point of it all?

Suddenly, you felt one tear falling down your cheek. You wiped it off. It brought you back to reality. You were driving, and since it was late, there was no one on the street. Your hands started to shake as the thought appeared in your head.

The whole street was empty, your car would be the only one damaged. You would be the only person hurt, the only mortal victim. Your hands were still shaking, anxiousness creeping inside you as you tried to think of a reason why that was stupid.

But nothing came to your mind.

Nothing was stopping you.

Not even red lights.

Now there was more than one tear falling down your cheek, and you were wiping none of those off your face: you were letting them fall. Your foot pressed the gas with all of its strength, you could hear the engine getting louder each second.

Your heart rate accelerated, your eyes were blurring because of the tears, and you could feel how every part of your body shook. You were about to turn aside your car, knowing that at that speed there was no way of getting out of there intact, but you heard a noise: it was another car.

You stopped the car as fast as you could because your vision had suddenly been cleared, and you noticed that a car was in front of you waiting on a red light. That same car had made the noise. Scared of not stopping at the right time, you turned sharply the steering wheel, causing you to end up in another lane.

When your car was still, you took your hands off the steering wheel and placed them in your head. Just in that moment, you noticed what you were about to do, which made you burst into tears.

"What the hell was I think- AAH!" You yelled out of fear when you heard a knock on the car window. You rolled it down, ready to yell at whoever was standing there. But when you saw the person, your words got stuck in your throat.

"(y/n)?" His voice was like a slap across your face. You felt like you couldn't move. "Hey, are you okay?" He placed one hand on your shoulder, taking you out of the state you had gotten into.

"Spencer..." Was the only thing you were able to say. "Did you...?"

"Yes. I mean- I saw a car coming at full speed behind me, and I tried not to get killed. But... Are you... Are you okay? What were you doing driving like that?" Spencer questioned, yet he didn't have an accusing tone. It was a worried and concerned one.

"I was..." You couldn't speak. How were you supposed to tell him that you almost committed suicide and that almost got him into a car crash? 'Hey Spence, guess what? I wanted to kill myself and almost took you with me, haha!' There was no easy way to say it nor a way to disguise it as something else.

You looked up at Spencer, his gaze met yours. His face was scanning every inch of yours, looking for an answer. When you saw him properly, you felt like you didn't need to speak: you felt like you needed a hug.

"Step back, I'll open the door." You spoke, Spencer took a few steps back and looked confused at your every action. When you walked out of the car and suddenly hugged him, his face turned surprised.

"I don't know what to..." His voice was low. He was hugging you back, perceiving that you needed it. "If you need to talk, I'm here."

You nodded with gratefulness, appreciating Spencer's words. The two of you remained silent for a while after you let go of the hug until you dared to speak about the situation. Both of your cars were parked on the side of the street, and you were sitting on the sidewalk.

"Spencer, I was... trying to end it all, I just wanted to..." He lifted up his gaze to meet your face, but you were looking down at the floor. Not sure if you wanted to make eye contact while confessing the situation.

"Where you about to...?" Reid couldn't finish the question, he averted what you were about to say, he just didn't want to believe that it was true. You were one of the happiest people Reid knew, and thinking that behind that bubbly personality he knew, hid an amount of pain that made you think of suicide as a solution, made his heart sank.

"Yes. I... I don't know what I was thinking... I just reached the edge, and everything feels like too much." Now you dared to look into his eyes, concern filled his face. Seeing Reid like that made you feel worse because you felt like you were only bothering him. "Oh, dear lord. Now I'm just taking away your time. Maybe I'll just need to sleep this off..." You started speaking as you tried to get on your feet, but Spencer stopped you.

"Wait. Don't try to escape the problem." He spoke as he gestured you to sit comfortably again. "I'll be here until the sun comes up if it's necessary. I care about you (y/n), and what just happened is not something to take lightly."

Spencer's words were simple, but they were the right ones; as soon as you heard him, you started crying. Reid tried to hide it, but seeing you like that made him want to hug you as tight as possible and never let you go. How could someone so good be suffering this much? He thought you didn't deserve to feel that way.

"I just don't know what's happening to me... I don't usually feel like this, but these last months have been from bad to worse."

"And we didn't notice?" His voice was loaded with guilt. He was a profiler, and he couldn't have been able to notice your mood or signals. "I'm so sorry, (y/n)."

"It's fine. I jus-"

"No, it's not. We should have noticed, I should have noticed you were struggling. Because what would have happened tonight if I wasn't there with my car?" Reid's voice cracked at the end of the sentence, you could swear that you saw a tear forming in the corner of his eye.

"But you were there. You saved me." You spoke as you rested a reassuring hand on his arm. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. "What is it?"

"I'm the one that's supposed to be reassuring you. Not the other way around." You couldn't help to smile, which had the same reaction on Reid. "You're always putting others first and yourself last... You're too good for this world."

"I'm not that good. I can always do better on cases, and I barely help to resolve anything." The words that had been repeating inside your head for the last couple of months were spoken for the first time. Spencer looked at you, his face getting sadder than it already was.

"Stop putting yourself down. You're literally the best human being I know." He spoke with a sad smile on his face. "I truly can't understand where you got those awful ideas about you."

You didn't speak. Every word that came out of Spencer's mouth made you feel worse for even trying to do what you tried to. For the third time that night, you were crying, but this time, a hand was caressing your face. You looked at Spencer, who had started to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"I just... Don't understand myself... I feel like everything I do has a negative effect on people. I need to take a break... from everything..."

"I get it. Maybe it would be better if you just take some time off work. Take some time to care about yourself, treat yourself with some love, and maybe that will help you to heal whatever has triggered these emotions." Spencer took his hand away from your cheek. "Furthermore, I could help you to find any kind of professional help to overcome this. There are plenty of ways in which I can help you, just say the word."

"Thank you, Spence." You spoke with a soft voice, he only nodded lightly.

"I didn't do anything, really. I just happened to be there." He was trying to be modest, but you were way too grateful to let him be like that.

"Spencer, you saved my life. Take a little credit for that." You chuckled, and Reid's face lighted up: seeing you at least a fraction as happy as you were before made him feel better.

Reid wanted to tell you how happy he was for being there at the right moment. He wanted to tell you how important you were to him and how he would have been devastated with your loss. But now was not the time: he knew you needed to think about yourself, and once you felt better, maybe then he would dare to confess his feelings to you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[joonipertree]

To show someone that you care, is a gift itself. | Sugar Daddy Bakugo Series

Where you show Katsuki what a gift can be.

Tags: Artist!reader, very self indulgent, like guys....please buy me watercolour paper instead of Versace. Watercolour paper is stupid expensive. Im also not skilled enough to actually make the gift so--

Pt 1 Pt 3

Katsuki's birthday had been looming when the two of you started going out, like a weighted shadow. You had spent a very long stressing about what to get him with a budget that wasn't even worth a fraction of what he would buy you.

But, like gift giving was Katsuki's, it was your love language as well. And you'd gotten good at getting heart felt things for people. Admittedly, it took a lot of brainstorming and notes upon notes of what to get.

You'd always go overboard to please the people you cared about, afraid that they'll leave if you didn't cross the limits and bend over backwards for them.

Katsuki had always taken care of you, never asked for anything and your love was returned albeit in a quieter and tsundere manner. So the urge to go above and beyond didn't fester for long, knowing that your bare presence made him warmer.

Your gift idea came when he was on the ring, swift on his feet and solid in the rigidness of his body. You'd brought your sketchbook and while you wanted to keep your eyes on your boyfriend, your hands became busy with large curves and sharp flicks of your pencil that brought dark edges .

You'd made at least 20 quick gestures drawings that were more crude representations of movement for you. But with those and the feelings you trapped in your heart, you made thumbnails and chose one to draw large scale.

One where Katsuki's face was partially blocked by his arm and he gave a blow. His elbows were jagged, muscles taut and rippling. And his eyes sharp and cat like.

The charcoal pencils and sticks used to create tapered lines to create hard surfaces was 340 yen. The watercolour pallete used had messy paint splattered everywhere and its lid broken, having been with you for a good while. The coat over the charcoal was 50 yen hair spray that worked just as well as professional sprays.

It didn't cost a lot but your hands were full of care and by the end of it, you hoped that it'd be something Katsuki would at least like. The man could have the world but all you had was you.

You didn't realize that you were more than enough

Katsuki to lost his voice when you handed it to him at midnight, eyes wide as he stared at him but not him. The layers on layers of paint held emotions that he could only describe as love, meticulously hand picked and felt in strokes. He'd seen HD pictures of his fights, seen videos of them where his sweat and pores were as clear as day. The most he'd thought of them were how his form could improve or how cool he looked.

But what you made, it twisted something in his chest and stung his eyes and filled him to the brim with love so warm and overwhelming that his body wasn't big enough to hold it.

You two had been dating for 4 months, Katsuki had spent that time falling in love with you in ways he didn't think possible. He'd fall with every giggle and kiss and ramble and your face when you were concentrating. He'd never said 'I love you', hoping his actions showed it enough, still too scared to speak it in case it was met with hesitance or silence.

But Katsuki had gently put down the canvas, something you that you'd built, stretched and primed yourself. And while you made eye contact with the walls and ceiling, you explained how the only thing you could come up with was the painting, that you wanted to capture the emotions you felt when you saw him fight. That it wasn't much but---

Katsuki had engulfed you in a hug, hand on the back of your head to press it against him and an arm around your waist. He squeezed you, tried to express all that he was feeling with one hug alone. You felt it, held him tightly and carded your fingers through his hair. With his shoulders shaking, you had an inkling that he had been crying. When he spoke, with a wobbly voice, you were sure that he was.

"I love you." He'd muttered out for the first time.

"I love you more." You whispered back and Katsuki had firmly denied it, that no one could love a person as much as he loved you.

Getting a gift for you became hard after that, because Katsuki sucked at making shit.