#You would understandably laugh at some of the things I tried.

[nathaslosthershit]

Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)

Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him

Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.

He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.

"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.

"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.

"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."

"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."

"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.

As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.

Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.

After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.

The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.

After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.

He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.

Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.

"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.

"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.

"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"

"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"

It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?

As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"

He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.

"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"

She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.

"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.

The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others

logansargeant New job

user1 hey! so this is insane

user2 unemployment has never looked better

alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!

logansargeant got to keep them guessing

user4 dilf era yes please

oscarpiastri how long is the contract?

logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future

user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out

jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!

A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!

[starsenha]

UNDERSTANDING / P.J

Pairing ◊ fem!reader x bf!jay

Genre ◊ fluff, established relationship

Warnings ◊ talk about bad mental health, just jay being a sweetheart I'm sobbing

Word count ◊ 1k

Summary ◊ you were so greateful to have a such understanding boyfriend by your side.

a/n: felt really mentally bad a few days ago so this bloomed in my mind hehe, enjoy!

You had been looking forward to your date with Jay all week. The plan was simple: a walk around the park, grabbing some ice cream, and maybe catching a movie later. But when the morning came, you woke up feeling… off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t felt this way before—this heavy, gray feeling that made everything seem distant—but it was the last thing you wanted on a day like today.

You stared at your phone, fingers hovering over the screen. It felt wrong to cancel, especially since you and Jay had been planning this. But at the same time, the thought of putting on a happy face, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t, felt exhausting. Jay knew about your struggles with mental health; you had talked about it before. But still, there was always that small voice in your head whispering that you were being a burden.

With a deep breath, you finally typed out the message.

[you] Hey, would it be okay if we postponed the date today?

You hit send before you could overthink it, your heart racing as you waited for his response. Within a minute, your phone buzzed.

[Songie 💙] Of course, baby! Are you okay?

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tracing the edge of your phone as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to lie, but you also didn’t want to dump all your emotions on him. Finally, you decided to just be honest.

[you] I’m not really feeling like myself today. Kind of out of it, and I don’t want to bring any negativity to our date. I don’t want to bother you.

The response came quickly, like he was waiting for your message.

[Songie 💙] Hey, you are NEVER a bother. I mean that. I’d be happy to spend time with you, even if you’re not feeling okay.

A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked back the sudden sting of tears. You knew Jay cared, but sometimes it still caught you off guard how understanding he was.

Before you could reply, another message came through.

[Songie 💙] Actually… can I come over? I really want to see you, even if we don’t do anything. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just want to be there with you.

You smiled softly at his words, though you were still unsure. The idea of just… being with someone without having to pretend to be fine sounded comforting, but you didn’t want him to feel like he had to take care of you.

[you] Are you sure? I’m really not in the mood to talk much. I was just going to stay in and watch my comfort show.

You didn’t have to explain what your comfort show was. Jay knew. It was the one you always turned to when you were feeling down, something familiar and soothing.

[Songie 💙] Of course I’m sure. I’ll be happy just to see your pretty little face.

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself. Jay always knew how to make you feel a little lighter, even when everything else felt heavy.

[Songie 💙] I’ll come over in a bit. Want me to pick up something for you? I can grab your favorite from that fast food place you love. I know you probably haven’t eaten.

That hit deeper than you expected. He knew. He always seemed to know when you were struggling, even when you hadn’t said much. The thought of food hadn’t even crossed your mind until he mentioned it, and now that he did, you realized how hungry you were. But more than that, it was the fact that he was offering to take care of you in such a simple, thoughtful way that made your chest tighten with emotion.

[you] Okay. That sounds nice. Thanks, songie.

Jay: Don’t mention it. I’ll be there soon.

You put your phone down and leaned back against the couch, feeling a little less tense now that you didn’t have to worry about the date. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Jay—it was the opposite. You just didn’t want to be a weight on him, to drag down what was supposed to be a fun day. But Jay… he never made you feel like that. Not once.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Jay standing there with a warm smile and a bag of food in one hand. His hair was a little messy from the wind, and he was wearing that hoodie you always said you liked on him.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, stepping inside. "I brought you your favorite."

The smell of fries and a burger filled the room, and your stomach growled. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this. You smiled gratefully and took the bag from him.

"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.

"Of course," he said, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. "I’m just happy to see you."

You led him to the couch, where you had already set up your comfort show on the TV. Jay kicked off his shoes and settled in next to you, close enough that your legs brushed against each other, but not so close that it felt overwhelming. He handed you the food, and as you unwrapped your burger, he pressed play on the show.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the familiar show filling the room. Jay didn’t push you to talk, didn’t ask you how you were feeling. He just… sat with you, sharing the space in that gentle, understanding way that only he could.

After a while, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, and you felt the tension in your body start to melt away, just a little. It wasn’t that everything was suddenly okay—it wasn’t. But having Jay there, quietly watching your favorite show with you, made things feel a little more bearable.

"You know," he said quietly after a while, his voice barely above a whisper, "I’m always here for you. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days."

You didn’t say anything, but you reached for his hand and squeezed it, your heart full of gratitude.

He squeezed back, and that was enough. You didn’t need words right now. You had Jay, and that was more than enough.

[fastboatsmojito]

Some Depraved Billy Butcher Smut

This is becoming a pattern I feel - it’s been a long day forgive me

18+ Smut btc, He’s pretty mean, like shove the side of your face into the brick wall of a building mean, you’re also pretty mean to him oops, almost dacryphilia but not quite ?? His hands are filthy for sure but you let him put them inside of you anyways <3 is that true love - This is incredibly self-indulgent and nasty - LOCK ME UP !!!!

Unfortunately drooling over the thought of yelling at butcher in some dark alley in the middle of a mission you’re supposed to be finishing 🧎HEAR ME OUT

——

You’re pissed off, yelling at him about being as careless as he always was, planting a hand firm on his chest and pushing him into the wall of some building you couldn’t care less about, all while he gave you some shitty excuse about doing ‘whatever it takes to get the job done’. You’re in his face, anger written all over your own while he waited for you to finish your lecture.

“Shouldn’t care so much about someone like me for fucks’ sake, so what if I get a little roughed up? It’s part of the job.” He explained, not really understanding the reason behind your protest nor caring to.

“Fuck you.” You said with a final glare, walking backwards and away from him as you took a few deep breaths to regain yourself, before quickly turning around and marching towards him when you heard him chuckle behind you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” He had quite the bad habit of not taking you seriously, on and off the job, and it only pissed you off further.

“Just a bit hard to take you seriously like this ‘s all” He was smiling like a fucking idiot when you walked back up to him, wordlessly threatening to slap him with a raised hand.

“Handsy, are we? Relax. Not a bad thing to be soft. It’s a good look on ya, hand to god.” He put a hand over his heart like he was promising when he said it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if his other hand was occupied with keeping two fingers crossed behind his back.

“You know you’re not my boss anymore, right? I might work with you but I follow M.M. You’re just some asshole I have to go on missions with now.” Your words didn’t carry the venom you tried to conjure out of yourself, disappointment that you were actually letting him get to you settling in.

“Ouch.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he sauntered closer to you. “Why don’t we just get back to work, eh? Finish this little spat when we don’t have some D-lister supe up our asses?”

“Fuck that and fuck you, Butcher. I’m not going to work with a psycho that doesn’t care if he gets himself or his partner killed. I don’t have time for this shit, if you want to ruin your life do it on your own time. I’m done.” You spat before turning away again, this time stopped by him moving in front of you.

“Hang on just a second there, I might put myself in danger for this but I still protect you. Might have a shitty way of showin’ it but that’s the reason you’re not here alone. Think M.M would send me somewhere for no reason? You’re good enough to do the job alone just fine, but there’s about six Vaught cunts in there just waitin’ on you to walk in alone.” He stopped himself with a drop of his head while you stood in what you could only describe as confusion, a tinge of guilt in your stomach.

He raised his head after a moment of you not responding. “Come on.” He gestured back towards the building entrance, looking at you with something along the lines of remorse, a look you’d never seen on him.

Maybe it was the quiet, the only audible noises your own heartbeat in your ears and the low passing of cars on the street a few feet ahead of you. Maybe it was the moonlight lightly tracing over both of your outlines, giving the man in front of you a soft glow as he seemingly patiently waited on you. Maybe it was every other time you’ve wanted to say that to him, finally getting a response that wasn’t complete bullshit. Whatever it was, every possible excuse felt ultimately irrelevant by the time you shoved your lips into his own.

It was difficult to shock someone like Butcher, there was basically nothing you could say or do that he hadn’t heard or seen before, but you felt the hesitation from him anyway. It was just a second but the tension felt heavy right until the moment you felt him kissing you back. It wasn’t soft, you couldn’t possibly have expected it to be, his rough palms moving to your sides almost immediately.

—

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill over your lash line as he shoved your face into the brick wall in front of you, his other hand currently two fingers deep inside of you, to which you had no prior warning in true Billy Butcher fashion. It was no secret he was just as much a dick in the sex department as he was out of it, relentlessly teasing you like a fucking animal.

“Yellin’ at me get you this worked up, did it?” He covered your body with his own but that didn’t stop the urgency you felt to finish before someone walked out and saw you, your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of his thick fingers hooking up up up and then back out again repeatedly, fast and rough just as his tongue had been in your mouth a moment before.

“Jesus-“ You gasped when his thoroughly soaked fingers retracted to rub tight circles over your clit. He was clearly in his element, you could practically feel the grin on his face right behind you.

“Not quite.”

———

[croissantlover24]

Solar angst where he has a panic attack after meeting Nexus again because he reminds him of his Moon?

(Yes yes YESSS)

Solar’s hands shivered. His nonexistent heart began to beat faster and faster, the sound suffocating his audio receptors. The oil within his eyes threatened to spill over. He could hear Nexus saying something in the background, but wasn’t really listening.

This was not how he had wanted things to go.

When Solar confronted his former brother, he thought he’d see some sort of explanation. Some sort of reason.

Not his Moon bubbling back all over again to torture him.

Of course, his Moon was dead. Solar had ensured that himself. However, with how Nexus was acting… it was like his brother was possessed by the ghost of his abuser.

Not a good combination.

“Aww, are you going to cry?” Nexus mocked, flexing his claws and exaggerating his tone.

“Shut up,” Solar hissed, holding back tears.

Nexus came closer.

“I’m not going to change,” he whispered lowly. “I have dark star power. That’s all I need. And soon, I’ll become a god.”

His laughter echoed across the empty halls like a distant wound Solar had long forgotten reopening.

“That may make me the villain of your story,” the lunar animatronic continued, “but I can handle that.”

His voice became colder than ice, frozen over from years of pretending to be someone he was not.

“However… can you?”

“Can’t you do anything right?” Moon had hissed at Solar, slamming his faceplate against the wall repeatedly. “Why are you STILL HERE? Where’s Sun? WHAT’D YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?”

Solar shook his head, pushing the memory back to the deep recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to compare how Nexus had become the person he swore not to be.

“Kneel,” said animatronic commanded, and Solar was suddenly shoved to the ground. He tried to stand, but a force far beyond his own kept him on the ground.

Nexus laughed. “How pathetic.”

“Shut. UP,” Solar hissed, pushing off of the ground and ramming into him. Nexus swiftly dodged, sending Solar barreling into the wall.

“Ugh,” the latter groaned, rubbing his head. Not the smartest decision.

“You’re as foolish as always,” Moon—no, Nexus—teased.

Solar would be lying if he said that he didn’t see the two as one and the same now.

He shook his head. Don’t think about that. DON’T DON’T DON’T—

Solar was slammed to the ground by his former brother yet again, purple magic floating around him.

“Keep your head down,” Nexus growled. “I’m going to make this very clear.”

He grabbed Solar’s faceplate, digging his claws into it and ripping some of the paint off.

“I am not Moon anymore. I am Nexus. Get that straight. Nexus, Nexus, Nexus.” Each time he said his own name, Eclipse—no, Solar (get out of that mindset, Solar)—was punched hard in the face.

Nexus was still going easy on him.

He grinned maniacally, the thing spread far too wide. “I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding.”

He disappeared.

And that’s when the panic attack formed.

Solar’s airways felt tight, as if they had rusted over and filled with dust. Each breath didn’t seem enough, like he needed more more more air and—he wasn’t getting enough of it. He was suffocating, a victim of his own mind. Nervous energy jittered through him, convincing him of hallucinations that weren’t there.

“You’re pathetic.”

“You’re the reason Sun is gone.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Was it his Moon or Nexus saying those things? Solar suddenly couldn’t remember.

He collapsed against the wall, gripping his head tightly as his heart raced and his mind reeled.

Sleep was… a far away dream for Solar that night.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Idle Hands

Summary: Whenever Tony forgets to go to bed, it's always been up to you to bring him back to your side.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Warnings: Heavy on the softness compared to most of my other stuff; I was in a very sentimental (read: sad and touch-starved) mood back when I wrote this lol. Tony Stark is a TEASE both in word and deed -- I have said it is canon therefore it is now. The feral way he makes me feel should be illegal. Also you can read the...implications of my vague wordings towards the end as tame or as smutty as you wish ;)

I feel the need to mention here that Tony Stark has been my most favorite comic book character since I was but a mere 11 years old. He holds the distinction of being my longest-running fictional crush/object of my obsessions and I love him so deeply and for so many little reasons that I could write a PhD dissertation on him. So please enjoy my little love letter to the man that has held my heart for nearly a decade and a half <3

It's that point of the night where you really can't decide if it should be counted as ungodly late or ungodly early. 4:00 am does tend to scramble the thoughts.

You've been drifting in and out of an uneasy sleep for what feels like forever, and as you roll away from the digital clock display on the wall with an annoyed sigh, you suddenly see why.

The other side of the bed is utterly untouched.

He hasn't been here with you at all.

You sit up, trying to remember if he had plans tonight. The calendar app on your phone has no record of a gala, awards ceremony, board meeting, or anything else that might have taken up his time.

Which means he's probably down in the lab again.

Briefly, you contemplate trying to call him, but you know from experience that he probably isn't taking calls right now, even if FRIDAY tried to put one through for you. He's in that zone that only designing and building can put him in, the one mindset where his too-busy brain is crystal clear and the world at last makes sense to him.

So you pull yourself out of bed, throw one of his old sweatshirts on over your cami and pajama shorts (he keeps the AC cranked all the way whenever it's warm outside) and pad out of the bedroom and on your way downstairs.

His lab is awe-inspiring as always, no matter how many times you see it. The purring thrum of the generators and the comforting pulse of dimmed lights, the heavy, electric feeling of the air itself -- he's described his workspace to you as having a life of its own before, and you can understand so well why time escapes him down here.

You just hope he's not using it to escape from other things as well.

He's deeply absorbed in his work on something at a station opposite the door, and your heart skips a beat even as you smile fondly at the familiar sight. Clad in sweatpants and a black tank through which you can just barely see the blue glow of his arc reactor, he looks all at once more human than usual and like some being from another world entirely.

It's the Stark curse, he told you once, and you recall the wry slant of his lips as he said so. To know you're a god trapped in a mortal body, an infinite mind with a finite number of years to use it. It's the reason behind all his greatest triumphs -- and all his harshest falls from grace.

And somehow, you were lucky enough to be the one he fell in love with.

It still feels like a dream sometimes.

Realizing he isn't going to look up on his own anytime soon, you stifle a yawn and knock sharply on the doorframe.

"Tony?"

He stiffens as if he's been shocked (always a possibility, when he's rewiring) and shoves the safety glasses high up on his forehead. "That would be yours truly. Everything alright?"

With a laugh, you cross the room, warmth rising in your chest as he immediately sets down his tools and steps out from behind the table to meet you. And damn, he always looks good -- he is Tony Stark, after all -- but there's always something about him when his hair gets all unruly and he has THAT look of intense concentration on his face that really drives home to you all over again just how gorgeous he is.

You cuddle up to him, and he kisses the top of your head.

"Asked you a question, Honey."

"Do you know what time it is, Tony?"

There's a prolonged moment of answering silence as he glances up at one of his nearby monitors. "Crap. Well, why are you up?"

Pulling back slightly so you can tease the protective eyewear off his head, you give him a look. "Can't sleep."

An eyebrow tilts; he's playing dumb.

"And that's my problem why?"

"Jerk." You take your time playing with his glossy dark hair, neatening it back up before raking your fingers through it to mess it up again. "Maybe because you love me...?"

"Oh, so you're down here looking for sympathy, got it." He smirks at you, a well-practiced and infuriatingly handsome look. "In that case, sorry about your insomnia, Beautiful. There's melatonin in the drug cabinet upstairs." He snares the safety glasses from your fingers once more and makes as if to return to his work. "Sympathetic enough for you?"

You wrap your arms around his waist from behind, stopping him from going any further, though the smug son of a bitch starts tinkering with his new designs again even through your persistent clinging. It mesmerizes you for a couple seconds, always has, the way his hands work with such delicate precision and dexterity, and you can't help selfishly wishing he would turn them towards other, less...mechanical endeavors at this moment.

He probably would, in all honesty, but Tony Stark is the king of making you work for it. Philanthropic he may be, but some things even you have to earn from him when he's feeling particularly devilish.

"I don't want your pity," you hum, pressing a sleepy kiss to his shoulder. "I was lonely without you."

"Perfectly understandable. I've been told by many that I'm scintillating company. You can, by all means, stay and watch me work, you know. Feeds my humble ego."

You roll your eyes and impatiently reach up under his shirt, feeling his muscles tense at the unexpected coldness of your hands.

That finally gets his attention and makes him turn around. Before you can even fully comprehend it, he's swept his work out of the way and lifted you up onto the worktable instead, restless fingers drawing intricate patterns on your inner thighs, though his eyes never leave yours, crystalline blue pinning your attention to his amused face instead of his very distracting hands.

"That," he grins, "was adorable. Sleepy version of you is so much more demanding. Maybe I should stay down here too long more often."

You try to frown at him, though his sparkling gaze and mischievous touch make that impossible. "How dare you."

"I do a lot of dumb things to see where they get me. You know that." He nods at the thick gray sweatshirt still keeping you warm. "Why don't you take that off for me, Sweetness. You make me cold, I get to return the favor."

Unable to come up with something snarky to say in return with the way his hands are making you shiver now, you do as he suggests with little resistance, the exposed skin of your arms and chest prickling at the much cooler air.

He leans in to tenderly kiss your neck, and your breath leaves in a sigh at the way his facial hair scratches at your throat. He's always been a helluva kisser and the meticulously maintained goatee is just the icing on the cake. Making out on his worktable was not the original plan when you first came down here, but even by his own admission Tony's best plans are usually improvised.

And you're certainly not complaining.

"What did you want from me again?" he murmurs, close to your ear.

The absolute audacity of him.

"Mmmmmmm," seems to be about all you can manage at the moment, and you know very well what's coming next.

He pulls you closer to him, the movements of his fingers turning agonizingly slow and prompting a slight gasp from you.

The smile that gradually spreads its way across his mouth is absolutely wicked.

"What was that, Sweetheart? I didn't quite catch it."

You try to reclaim some semblance of coherence, but his firm hold on you prevents you from escaping his delightfully systematic torture, so instead you grab on to his well-defined shoulders, your forehead resting against his chest. The mechanically-stabilized beat of his heart echoing beneath his skin a brief reminder that he's alive, despite everything he's been through, and he is yours. There's no one else on his mind, no one else he's let this far into his messy and often painful world.

The world may know him as Iron Man, the one who has saved them more times than they could ever count, but how many people really know the Tony that you know?

That same Tony who now raises one hand to tip your head back, whose sharp eyes soften with affection for the slightest of seconds before the anticipated words fall from his tongue, the words he knows will always unravel you.

"You just have to tell me what you want. Come on, Princess. Use your words."

You shudder and lean in to beg for another kiss.

"You, Tony. Always you. Please."

He kisses you back with renewed intensity, leaving you completely breathless.

"There we go...was that so hard?"

[gimmethatagustd]

the heart nebula (2) | kth + pjm

♡ Summary: It has been a year since Jimin and Taehyung started dating, and they still haven't slept together. Jimin thinks they haven't because Taehyung doesn't want him; Taehyung thinks Jimin won't want him if they do. (Or, the one where Jimin is Taehyung's moon, and Taehyung is from the stars.)

♡ Pairing: Taehyung x Jimin

♡ Words: 3,387

♡ Rating: Explicit

♡ Genre: Science fiction, established relationship, angst, smut, fluff

♡ Warnings: They're cute but it's vmin and i wrote them so that's to be expected, groping, the tentacles are back or whateva, we're learning all about alien culture

♡ Post Date: September 23, 2024

♡ Notes: I'm probably on a plane rn~ Maybe? Idk how time zones work.

♡ Masterlist ♡ AO3 Crosspost 

♡ series masterlist ♡

“Tae.”

“Hmm?”

Taehyung lifts his chin to look at Jimin. They’re in their living room, taking advantage of a stormy Saturday evening, the thunderstorm outside competing with the TV playing softly in the background. Jimin sits on the couch with his back against the arm and his legs sprawled out. Between Jimin’s legs, Taehyung lies on his stomach, his arms wrapped around Jimin’s waist and his head resting on Jimin’s abdomen.

An educational docuseries about sharks plays on the TV, but Jimin is busy reading a book he recently borrowed from the library. He put on the docuseries for Taehyung, anyway, since Taehyung has decided that sharks are his favorite Earth animal species.

When Jimin mentioned assuming Taehyung would have picked the octopus, Taehyung almost threw him onto the floor.

“What did you like to do for fun back home?” Jimin asks, closing his book and carefully setting it on the coffee table without jostling Taehyung too much.

Two of Taehyung’s tentacles are playing in Jimin’s hair at the back of his head. When Jimin reaches up to touch them, he realizes the tentacles have been braiding his hair — and rather well, all things considered. Sometimes, Jimin wonders if Taehyung even notices when he does these little affectionate gestures with his tentacles or if they simply come naturally to him.

“I liked to read, too,” Taehyung speaks slowly while he thinks, his words weaving through the air like his tentacles weave through Jimin’s hair. “Mysteries, mostly. And I enjoyed athletics.”

“Sports like ours?”

Taehyung grins when he uses another tentacle to flick the underside of Jimin’s chin.

“Do you think humans are the most interesting creatures in the universe, little moon? Because, unfortunately, I have news for you.”

“Ahh, Taehyung, quit it,” Jimin groans and tries to shoo away the tentacle at his chin. Instead, he ends up tickling it back with his fingers when the tentacle curls against his collarbone. “I don’t know anything about all that.”

Jimin waves his hand at the ceiling as if gesturing to the universe above, and Taehyung laughs.

“We have our own games but adopted some human customs, too. And I am fantastic at playing basketball,” Taehyung is smug, and it makes Jimin smile.

“That’s just because you have more limbs than a normal person.”

“I have the same number of limbs as the rest of my people,” Taehyung points out.

Thinking about a world where tentacles are a regular part of life is fascinating. Jimin wonders what he would look like if he had them. Would they be as troublesome as Taehyung’s? Jimin has yet to understand Taehyung’s relationship with his tentacles. He can tell when Taehyung is controlling them, but he hasn’t figured out why they behave the way they do when Taehyung lets them “roam” — as he calls it. Taehyung is a very composed person, even when he’s being cheeky. His tentacles must be the parts of his personality he has to be more intentional about controlling.

“I wish I had tentacles,” Jimin confesses with a sigh.

One of Taehyung’s tentacles wiggles out from the collar of his t-shirt. He uses it to boop Jimin on the nose. That action was definitely intentional from Taehyung, not just “roaming” behavior. Such a little shit.

Taehyung grins, boxy and bright. It seems that all Jimin and Taehyung do these days is smile, laugh, and look at each other with so much love that it’s sickening.

“You would look cute with them.”

“Really?” Jimin asks shyly. He tries ducking his head to look away from Taehyung, but the tentacle that had booped him in the nose grabs his chin and pulls him back to face Taehyung again.

“Little moon,” Taehyung adjusts his position to be level with Jimin so he can get closer, “I bet they would be small and sneaky, just like you.”

“Oh, whatever.” Jimin rolls his eyes, but his stomach flutters at the thought. Magically growing tentacles could never happen; that doesn’t mean he can’t dream about it.

Based on what Taehyung has said about his tentacles in the past, Jimin infers that he is Taehyung’s first relationship with a human. He wonders if that is meaningful in any way. There seem to be so many similarities between humans and Taehyung’s people that Jimin wonders if relationships and physical intimacy are the same, too. He certainly hopes so. Jimin doesn’t want to think about the possibility that he can’t give Taehyung everything he wants, needs, and deserves, all because Jimin is a human.

“You’ve become so pensive,” Taehyung murmurs. He brushes the tip of his nose against Jimin’s, forcing out a huff of playful irritation from Jimin’s parted lips.

“Are you saying I normally don’t think?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows — a silent response that rings loud and clear.

“Watch your show!” Jimin scolds Taehyung’s snarky behavior and snatches his book from the coffee table.

Although they got through one intense conversation about their relationship, Jimin isn’t quite ready to start addressing all of them. He’s still a bit of a coward, so he lets Taehyung settle back down to learn about sharks and tells himself he doesn’t need to worry and rush so much anymore.

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t overcome his insecurities about his humanity as quickly as Taehyung overcomes his insecurities about his extraterrestrial status.

There are undoubtedly many downsides to being human, now that Jimin knows there is an alternative species to have been born into. Taehyung greatly enjoys pointing out such downsides. Apparently, these thoughts were hidden away in the past, and Taehyung is taking full advantage of Jimin’s new knowledge of extraterrestrial life to tease the fuck out of him. 

For one, grocery shopping has become a whole production, with Taehyung playing a little game of risk and reward. He lets Jimin wobble on his tiptoes as he tries to reach a jar of gochujang on a grocery shelf just high enough that his little fingers slip against the edge. 

“Shut up,” Jimin huffs over his shoulder at Taehyung’s giggling.  

“You look so cute!” 

Jimin gives Taehyung his middle finger.

“Grumpy little moon, aren’t you?” Taehyung murmurs more of the same questions he always asks Jimin, pondering what he should do with such a troublesome creature – as though Jimin is the only one causing trouble in their household! 

Jimin can count five other things that cause worse trouble than he does. One of those things slips out from the hem of Taehyung’s t-shirt. He watches the tentacle extend long enough to curl around the jar and bring it down to place it into the grocery cart. 

“It’s not fair,” Jimin huffs again and grabs the handle of the grocery cart to push it down the narrow aisle. “You’re lucky no one is around to see that.” 

Taehyung trails behind him, with his tentacle put away and more giggles on his lips. Jimin swears his heart swells with affection, knowing Taehyung is comfortable, even when his confidence could get him into trouble.

Over time, their comfort with each other deepens, moving beyond just Taehyung’s playful antics during grocery shopping and his love for intergalactic sports. The changes come slowly. After Jimin and Taehyung's intense conversation, it takes Taehyung nearly a week before he finally lets his tentacles free when he’s at home. Even though Jimin said they were cool, he understood why Taehyung was still insecure.

Taehyung’s confidence in being himself around Jimin is growing now. It started off subtle, mostly evident in the little details of their domesticity — the light press of Taehyung’s fingers against Jimin’s waist as he steps past him in the kitchen, hugs from behind while Jimin brushes his teeth in the bathroom, and the gentle kiss against the side of his neck that comes with them, the casualness of Taehyung’s demeanor when Jimin video calls his parents.

Taehyung has always made Jimin feel loved and adored, but being loved by Taehyung when Taehyung is in a headspace where he is also giving himself love is an entirely different experience. Love like that reaches deeper. It means something more because it goes beyond just Jimin.

Watching Taehyung learn to love himself in an environment where he can’t even be himself without fear of getting caught by the government or being hurt by a human is enough to make Jimin cry. Even though they’d be mostly happy tears, he keeps them at bay so he doesn’t worry Taehyung.

They’d always been drawn to each other in a way Jimin had never experienced with anyone else, but this new chapter in their relationship goes far beyond what they had once shared. 

Ever since the big reveal, Jimin feels like he’s having a sleepover with his best friend every night again.

At night, Taehyung stands beside Jimin in the bathroom. Through the mirror, Jimin watches Taehyung’s eyes crinkle in a smile as he tries not to laugh while brushing his teeth. Whereas Taehyung brushes his teeth with his hand holding his toothbrush, Jimin grins as one of Taehyung’s smaller tentacles holds Jimin’s toothbrush and brushes his teeth for him. It’s messier than Jimin would like, Taehyung’s tentacle far more uncoordinated than a human hand for a task like this.

The toothpaste foam dribbles down Jimin’s chin, making him step back with his hands under his face to prevent any from getting on the floor while Taehyung giggles so hard he almost chokes. 

Looking back, it seems impossible that Taehyung could have imagined that Jimin wouldn’t still adore him once he learned the truth. Jimin loves Taehyung, and he loves his tentacles, too. They’re fun! Jimin insists that they are, though Taehyung is still working on trusting the adoration Jimin gives him. 

They have all the time in the world to figure things out. Considering how far they’ve come in just a little over a year, Jimin isn’t worried.

“I forgot to tell you about Soomin’s party,” Jimin calls out to Taehyung once they brush their teeth. He gets settled in bed and waits for Taehyung to finish changing into his pajamas in the bathroom. 

Taehyung still won’t get naked in front of Jimin. It has only been a few weeks since Taehyung shared his secret; Jimin understands if Taehyung still isn’t ready to cross that boundary. Although Taehyung said his tentacles are the only visible difference between himself and humans, Jimin wonders if there’s more to it than that. 

Either way, he won’t rush Taehyung. Trust takes time, especially in a relationship like theirs. 

“Did you guys dare each other to kiss?” Taehyung waggles his eyebrows once he emerges from the bathroom. He's shirtless to let his tentacles freely move around, and he's wearing loose plaid pajama pants.

Jimin does appreciate at least admiring the top half of Taehyung, and he has found the swell of Taehyung’s muscular pecs to be a lovely pair of pillows.

“What?!” Jimin looks up from his phone to narrow his eyes at Taehyung as he slips under the covers beside him. 

“Isn’t that what humans do at parties? Play sexual dare games?” 

Jimin snorts. He puts his phone away to charge on his nightstand and wonders where in the hell Taehyung got such an idea. Really, where are aliens getting their information?

“Maybe teenagers, but we’re too old for that. Unless we were, I don’t know, swingers or something.” 

Taehyung snuggles against his pillow with wide, curious eyes and gazes up at Jimin.

"I've never heard of swingers," Taehyung says.

“They’re usually a married couple that likes to have sex with other married couples, sometimes together but sometimes… like, swapping each other’s spouses out.” 

Jimin must visibly cringe because Taehyung bursts into laughter and flops onto his back. His tentacles slither out of the way to avoid being crushed underneath him.

“That would never happen in my culture.” Taehyung wipes tears from his eyes, and Jimin complains that it wasn’t that funny. “We are strictly monogamous.” 

One of Taehyung’s tentacles flicks the underside of Jimin’s chin, and Jimin knows it’s Taehyung trying to be cheeky. His suspicion is confirmed when Taehyung turns his head to the side and winks.

“Good to know,” Jimin says with another snort to mask how flustered Taehyung makes him.

“The unity between couples is important to us,” Taehyung says thoughtfully after a moment of comfortable silence. “I suppose it’s because it goes beyond merely… saying I love you and living together or getting married. We connect on a spiritual level.” 

Jimin closes his eyes as one of Taehyung’s tentacles gently brushes his hair away from his face. It lingers for a moment before ruffling his hair.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks, barely getting the words out. There’s a reason why he hasn’t asked Taehyung about relationship dynamics on his home planet. 

“When we mate, we create a bond. It’s hard to explain, but in a way, we can understand each other’s thoughts and sense each other’s feelings. There is no greater connection, no relationship as deep, even between family – it just isn’t the same.”

Taehyung speaks as though he knows what it feels like. 

Jimin inhales slowly and opens his eyes. He doesn’t look at Taehyung, afraid of what his expression may be. Instead, he sinks deeper into the bed, lying on his back, with his eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Do you have a mate? Back home?” Jimin whispers despite the unease churning in the pit of his stomach. 

If monogamy is so important, Taehyung shouldn’t be with Jimin if he has a mate. But maybe Jimin doesn’t count—maybe humans are just throwaways, little things to play with before returning home. They haven’t discussed that either—whether Taehyung plans to go home. There are so many things they haven’t talked about.

Another tentacle wraps around Jimin's wrist and lightly tugs on it to stop him from chewing on a hangnail.

“Of course, I don’t,” Taehyung's tone is soft, but Jimin knows he's reprimanding him in his own gentle way.

“Just asking.” 

“That was a silly thing to ask.” 

Jimin glares at the ceiling, suddenly irritated. “I don’t know, Taehyung. There are a lot of things I feel like I need to ask you.” 

The tentacle around Jimin’s wrist lets go and slides along his arm to eventually rest on his shoulder. It curls against his collarbone, warm and not too heavy, a comforting weight that grounds him.

“My lovely moon may ask me anything he wants.” Taehyung always knows how to speak gently to Jimin.

Sometimes, Jimin wonders if some kind of cosmic magic gives Taehyung's voice the power to calm him down. His brain tells him he’s just in love. With a sigh, he reaches for Taehyung’s hand under the covers. Taehyung's tentacles are definitely cool, but Jimin likes his hands the most. They feel nice engulfing Jimin’s. 

“Let’s play twenty questions in the morning,” Jimin offers with a yawn. “I’m tired.” 

“You didn’t even tell me about the party!” 

Jimin closes his eyes and waves his free hand at Taehyung as though to shoo him away.

“Sleep.” 

He thinks maybe, for once, Taehyung will listen to him. But then the tentacle at his collarbone lightly brushes against the side of Jimin’s neck. 

Twitching his shoulder, Jimin brings it to his ear to block the tentacle from accessing his neck, but the sneaky thing slips over to the other side and tickles him there. 

“Taehyung,” Jimin hisses, but the only response he gets is the sound of muffled giggles. 

He tries to scrunch both shoulders. He’s like a little turtle retreating into his shell, neck shrinking into itself. Yet the tentacle slithers its way in. 

Fed up with Taehyung’s too many limbs, Jimin grabs the tentacle, still tickling his neck, and pulls it off. When he does, he slides his fist from the tapered tip down to the thicker part of the tentacle, making it easier to get a good grip on it as it wiggles. It’s a quick movement, and he doesn’t think much of it until Taehyung lets out a low moan.

The sound makes Jimin’s entire body shiver as a spike of heat shoots through him. His eyes fly open, and he immediately turns his head to look at Taehyung. More heat stirs within him when he sees the expression on Taehyung’s face.

Taehyung lies on his back with his fingers gripping the strands of his hair at the back of his head, elbow bent and resting against his pillow. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his other tentacles are wrapped around his bicep and slipped beneath the covers — Jimin assumes to wrap around his waist or legs.

Biting his bottom lip, Jimin slowly drags his hand up the tentacle he’s still holding. He watches Taehyung inhale; the sound is soft and easy to miss.

When Jimin keeps his fist around the tentacle and slides it down again, Taehyung’s mouth falls open with another quiet moan that goes straight to the heat growing in Jimin’s shorts.

“Moon.” Taehyung opens his eyes and slowly turns to look at Jimin. “What are you doing?”

The tentacle pulses in Jimin’s hand. He lets go of it and watches in awe as it quickly shrinks back until it’s practically hiding against Taehyung’s body, though it doesn’t completely retract.

“I… don’t know.”

“They’re really sensitive,” Taehyung explains quietly. He holds out his hand and lets the tentacle Jimin had touched wrap around his wrist. “Especially this one.”

“Why that one?” Jimin doesn’t see anything different about this tentacle aside from it being slightly thicker than the others.

For only the second time since Jimin has known him, Taehyung's ears and cheeks flush pink with embarrassment. It makes Jimin perk up, shifting on the bed and turning onto his side to prop himself up on his forearm, eager to get a better look at Taehyung.

“Why that one, Tae?” Jimin’s eyes sparkle in the white light of the bedside lamp.

Taehyung closes his eyes when Jimin reaches out to touch the tentacle again. Rather than shrink back even further, the tentacle seeks out Jimin’s touch, wrapping around his wrist to press against the inside. Almost immediately, the tentacle begins to pulse, mimicking Jimin’s heartbeat, even as it quickens.

“That’s the one for mating,” Taehyung’s whisper is shaky.

“Oh!” Jimin quickly pulls back his arm, forcing the tentacle to let go. “Taehyung, I’m so sorry.”

Opening his eyes, Taehyung gives Jimin a small smile.

“You didn’t know; it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal, I promise.”

Jimin eyes Taehyung skeptically. He wants to say that Taehyung moaning kind of made it seem like a big deal, but he keeps quiet. It might be that Taehyung wants to brush off the situation to ease his embarrassment. Jimin decides to be merciful tonight despite his desire to tease Taehyung further.

Well, maybe. 

“Does that mean you don’t have a…” Jimin makes it obvious that he’s looking down at what’s between Taehyung’s legs under the covers. “But, I have definitely felt something down there before…”

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung whines, rolling over so his back faces Jimin. By now, his tentacles have all disappeared. 

“I’m just asking! If the one tentacle is for mating, I mean, in humans, it’s… well, you know!” 

Taehyung lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I have a penis, Jimin, that looks pretty much like yours. Its purpose is solely for pleasure, not reproduction.” 

“Ew, don’t call it that.” 

“That’s what it’s called,” Taehyung looks over his shoulder to narrow his eyes at Jimin. 

“It’s not sexy.” 

“It’s anatomy, Jimin. It isn’t meant to be sexy.” 

“Hmph.” 

Taehyung laughs, and Jimin knows he has no other choice because Jimin has given him the poutiest expression he has ever contorted his face into. 

“Go to bed, little moon. We can talk about penises in the morning.” 

It’s strange how flat and smooth Taehyung’s back is when Jimin shoves it with his hands splayed out against his warm skin. It’s as if there were never any tentacles at all. Alien biology is too much for Jimin to wrap his head around, though it makes sense that he wouldn’t understand. Taehyung isn’t of this world; why should his body have to conform to its rules?

“Goodnight,” Jimin huffs. 

He falls asleep to Taehyung still giggling, and that’s just fine by him.

♡ series masterlist ♡

My fanfiction works are created for entertainment purposes only and do not represent real individuals or events. My content is exclusively posted on Tumblr (gimmethatagustd) and AO3 (gimmethatagustd, daddytaehyungie). Copying, reposting, modifying, translating, or using my content for AI purposes is strictly prohibited. All rights are reserved.

[lordofthestrix]

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[snekdood]

I think in the whole convo around why its hard to make friends today really understimates how technology has essentially ripped peoples masks off to show how toxic they can become and how repelling and even scary it can be interacring with ppl bc of it. Bc of tiktok. Bc of ppl filming you secretly. Bc the "bullying is good, actually" people. Literally that video of that lady lying to her neighbor and then the neighbor confronted her and she gaslighted the neighbor like. You might laugh but deep down you know youd never hang out w that person on a deep level. You know that person would just be toxic. At this point being alone seems more appealing bc you dont have to risk all this weird bullshit. Its almost worth the touch starvation n all the other physical and mental bullshit that comes w loneliness n shit if every friend geoup is going to try to eventually moralize their hate of you and kick you out of a friend geoup for being too "cringe" and then put you on blast online and then all the commentors just laugh and dont think deeply about the situation bc theyre just there to laugh and are prolly just as fuckin toxic. Like we got a real issue here yall. Wtf is going on. Ppl in my generation are so fucking unlikeable.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

��satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

[nightingale-prompts]

Comforting Your Batboy

First | Previous | Next

Danny slept next to Dick for a few days after what happened. He no longer felt secure about his place here. No matter where you go you take yourself with you and Danny is the problem here yet again.

Danny didn't understand affection, at least not the kind that a parent gave. The moment Danny told Dick that his parents were scientists Richard understood. Gotham had seen dozens of scientists who pushed the boundaries of morality and there was no shortage of children used to fulfill their ambitions.

Danny still missed his parents. Regardless of how things ended, he had lived his entire life with a family unit that on paper meant life was stable. He had somewhere to go and people who at least acknowledged him as family. Parents that took care of him at least out of obligation.

This story sounded familiar. Like Jason who never stopped loving his mom despite everything or Tim who accepted his neglect as what it was. They didn't know what it was like to have parents that loved them like they should. Dick was lucky to have the parent he had.

Danny remembered quiet dinners as his parents rushed to finish the food that Jazz made or them going on long tirades about their research. For 12 years they devotedly worked on that portal. Every chance they got they'd run off to the basement. Because it was their life's work, the only thing that mattered.

When it was unveiled, Jazz only scoffed. She hated the portal. Dad looked to Danny for praise and Danny didn't know what to say.

"Isn't it just the greatest thing you've ever seen?" Dad put his hand around Danny's shoulder.

"Well...its definitely a thing." Danny laughed awkwardly.

Danny had hoped that when the portal finished it would mean he'd spend time with his parents. Maybe they'd give him more than a passing glance when he brought them his report card. He could share with them his dreams and plans to be an astronaut. Show them the stars and all his research. To prove to them that he was a scientist too.

But that didn't happen. None of that would ever happen.

Jazz warned him not to hope for too much.

"People don't change Danny." She said simply.

Danny still tried. He still hoped. That hope made him try.

That hope killed him.

Danny never told Dick the specifics, about the accident. Dick never pried, but he knew something wasn't right.

Danny would cry in his sleep some nights. Dreams of a life that was far away now. Dick couldn't do much, all he could do was hold Danny's hand and wait for the nightmare to pass in hopes that Danny would forget his dream when he opened his eyes.

Danny's body was scarred. Something he used his powers to cover but they were still there and appeared when the stress got too much. Dick only saw a small part of them.

Dick got a full view once of Danny's back once when Dick left him a change of clothes. Lichtenberg scars like feathered ferns ripped through Danny's left arm and back. Danny hated it when people saw his scars and the marks disappeared the moment he realized he was being watched.

Dick didn't mention it. Not even the faint green glow the marks gave off.

"Why does Batman hate me?" Danny asked peeking out from under his blanket. He was still shrunk down

Dick bundled the toddler up in the blanket.

"He doesn't hate you. He just...he doesn't like things he doesn't understand." Dick tried to not make that sound awful.

"He doesn't understand me." Danny sighed.

"And he doesn't have to. He won't do anything to you. Not with me around. I promise. I know you've been hurt before and you must have felt alone but you got me." Dick ruffled his little fuzzball's hair.

(Ignore small errors. Have bat picture.)

[lemonlover1110]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Actor!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI!, smut, oral sex (m. receiving), spitting, vaginal sex, creampie, angst, family fluff, toji has like 50 kids (4) and tries to be a good dad

Summary: Toji's selfishness is getting in the way of your family. When he notices that your family is slowly falling apart, he does what he can to hold it together.

*Actually a long oneshot! for @ayyy-pee's collab

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“ACTOR TOJI FUSHIGURO SPOTTED GETTING A LITTLE TOO COZY WITH NEW CO-STAR”

The headlines are everywhere, it’s nearly impossible for you to ignore them. It’s not only the headlines but the pictures, the videos, the talk shows, the clear chemistry between them– And if that isn’t enough, the messages and calls you receive asking if you’re okay, are driving you insane. You don’t know how much more you can take of this.

Toji wanted to venture out of his usual villain role, wanting to do something more lighthearted, more fun. Whenever he’d audition for anything where he wasn’t the bad guy, he would get a simple answer: you’re not the guy we’re looking for. Truth is, Toji is too intimidating and lacks the look of the perfect picture man that they’re looking to cast in romcoms. You aren’t going to lie and say that you were bothered by this, because in fact, you were glad he wasn’t.

As selfish as it sounds, you were happy with the fact that Toji was getting stuck in the same villain roles. He’s already famous enough, and you have more than enough money, he doesn’t really need the lead role since it means that he’ll spend even more time away from his family. But you lie to yourself because if he got the lead in any other movie, you’d be ecstatic for him. 

The dreaded day came, and Toji got a call from his agent. An offer for a lead role in a new and upcoming romcom. It was hard for you to be happy for him, even though your husband was so excited to venture out of his usual character. ‘He’s going to kiss someone else’ was the first thought that came into your mind, and then you realized that movies nowadays are so much more explicit than just a kiss. 

Toji wasn’t supposed to, but he told you about a couple of things in the movie. He was so excited, and he couldn’t keep a thing from his wife. He told you of the characters, the plot, the scenes he was most excited about and the scenes he was worried about– The steamy scenes where Toji will be stripped to nothing with his tongue down another woman’s throat. 

Jealousy would consume you for the next months, realizing that your husband is going to pretend to be with some other woman; however, you can’t be too mad, since it’s all just happening in front of a camera. You’re the only woman Toji loves, you know so. You shouldn’t take this too seriously.

Until the relationship came off the cameras because the pair has undeniable chemistry, and the directors thought that hinting they were having an affair would make for great promo. You nearly begged Toji not to do it, but he didn’t listen. He wants to ensure the movie’s success, which you understand but it’s humiliating for you and your family.

You’re upset with him, and Toji knows this, but he’s allowed to be selfish. He’s wanted this, and he’ll do just about anything to make sure everything goes smoothly, he can risk having you mad at him for a few months. Although, he’ll admit that it sucks because you’re so cold with him.

“How about we take the kids and go out for dinner tonight?” Toji asks, watching as you get out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel. He wants to go on a date with just the two of you, but he also misses his kids. It doesn’t matter what Toji suggests either way, because you ignore him. He clears his throat, repeating, “How about we go out for dinner?”

“Huh?” You respond, acting as if you hadn’t heard him before, and Toji doesn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. Toji repeats the question a third time and you proceed to answer, “I’m going out tonight, I can’t.”

“What are you and the kids doing?” Toji questions, wondering why he wasn’t invited. He guesses he knows why, but you should’ve at least tried to make the effort since it involves your kids.

“I’m going out, the kids are staying with the nanny.” You tell him, which makes his eyebrows perk up. Toji stands up from the bed, walking over to you. He hugs you from behind, planting a kiss on your shoulder.

“How about we–” He begins but you proceed to cut him off before he can even finish his sentence.

“I’m going out with friends. Without you.” You answer, removing Toji’s arms from your waist. You walk to the closet to find your outfit for the night, and Toji can’t seem to leave you alone, following behind you like a lost puppy. 

“You don’t have to be so cold.” He argues, and you pay no attention to him. You were clear that you didn’t want this to go this far, yet he let it happen. You can be as mad as you want to be with him. “What are you planning to do anyway? Cause a scandal to get back at me?”

“I’m allowed to have fun, am I not, Toji?” You respond. You simply want to go out without thinking of your husband and all the embarrassment his job is bringing. If it causes a scandal, then so be it.

“Then why are you so set on going alone?” He replies, and you scoff. You can’t believe the audacity.

“I just want to be away from you because you humiliate me.” You finally look at him, shooting him a glare. It shouldn’t hurt because he’s caused his own problems, but it still hurts to hear that from his wife, “I was upset about the movie, sure, but I knew you wanted to do it so I bit my tongue. This publicity stunt is too far, and I told you not to do it over and over again, but you did it. Fine. You’re an adult.”

“And? You know it’s not real.” He argues, which only ticks you off more. You won’t raise your voice because your children are wide awake, and you don’t want them to hear as you yell at their father.

“Do you know how many pity messages I’ve gotten? The amount of calls? I’m just the poor victim to all of them, and also the stupid woman that won’t leave her husband.” You respond, and he opens his mouth to argue that it’ll be over soon. In a couple of months the truth will come to light and everything will go back to normal. “The kids are getting teased about it too. Megumi is old enough to know it’s a stunt, but the other three aren’t.”

“What do you mean the two year old and five year old are also affected by this?” He questions in a mocking tone, which tells you that he isn’t fully believing you. You feel your blood boil, and you take a deep breath to keep yourself calm. You’re not letting him get the best of you.

“Well, considering that the ten year old can’t keep his mouth shut and tells the other two that mommy and daddy are getting a divorce, I’d say yes, they are affected by this.” You try to remain stoic, keeping your voice low and calm. Toji bites down his lip, his eyes going wide at the realization that his ten year old refusing to talk to him wasn’t just a simple tantrum. “I tried to tell him that everything is fine between us, but he didn’t exactly believe me.”

“Is that why they’re refusing to talk to me?” Toji’s demeanor changes, becoming somber in a matter of seconds. You end up shrugging, not really knowing why your son is acting the way he is, but you can only assume it’s because of it. 

“I’m not sure. Probably.” You don’t care to really find a solution to his problems since you’re upset with him too. He needs to realize that his actions not only affect him but also his family. You watch as the man walks over to the bed to take a seat and think of what to do with this new piece of information. And while you’re mad at him, you still love him and want to help him out one way or another. You focus on getting yourself ready while you tell him, “How about you take them out tonight? Explain to them that everything is fine between us and–”

“Will you come with us?” He interrupts you, making you click your tongue.

“I’m going out, you can deal with the issues that you’ve caused, alone.” You answer, and Toji furrows his eyebrows. He knows that he can’t exactly be too mad at you because you’re right, he caused his own problems. “Take them somewhere to eat, watch a movie with them, play with them. I don’t know. I’m laying it all out for you, Toji. You can decide what’s best.”

“What about you?” He asks, and you don’t even care to entertain him, sitting in front of your vanity to do your makeup. Toji has to repeat himself, and you sigh.

“Figure it out.” 

“Ryo, are you ready?!” Toji yells down the hallway, but his ten-year-old doesn’t answer. Toji simply goes ignored, and the man tries to remain calm. Getting mad isn’t going to do him any good, yelling angrily at his son isn’t going to make Ryo any less mad. 

You left around thirty minutes ago, and Toji spent the entire time trying to convince you to stay; however, his efforts were in vain. You didn’t care enough to listen which shouldn’t really shock him, he’s still upset though. After you left, he began getting his daughters ready to go out, telling his sons to put on something comfortable since they’re going out to dinner.

Now that both of his girls are ready, he’s simply waiting on his sons. Toji knows that Megumi is somewhat ready, but he isn’t sure about Ryo. 

“Aimi, baby, can you wait downstairs while I check on your brother?” Toji asks his five-year-old, and she nods in response. Toji has to talk to his son alone, but he can’t do so with the two-year-old that’s on his hip. He knows that Aimi isn’t going to cause any trouble, but the little one that he holds is either going to get hurt or cause a big mess. He’s dismissed the nanny, and he can’t exactly leave her alone with Aimi. 

Before making his way to Ryo’s room, Toji walks over to Megumi’s door. He harshly knocks on the door and puts Emi down in front of it, as if Toji were the stork himself. Emi is about to run after her papa but Megumi opens the door, and she squeals when she sees her beloved older brother.

“What?!” Megumi yells down the hallway when he spots his father. Megumi picks up Emi from the floor, ensuring that she doesn’t run away.

“I’m going to talk to Ryo! Make sure she doesn’t get hurt!” Toji responds, and Megumi sighs. Not that he particularly minds, but Toji could’ve at the very least waited until Megumi had her in his arms. Megumi clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment before telling his sister,

“What are we going to do with him?” And she shrugs in response.

“I don’t know.” She answers, which makes Megumi laugh. He walks out of the room and goes downstairs to join his other sister. 

Toji stands in front of Ryo’s door. He knocks but he’s met with no response. Toji isn’t willing to respect his kids’ privacy, not when he pays for everything they have. Toji opens the door to the room, finding Ryo in his pajamas, playing with his console. Perhaps this would be the perfect time to have a heart-to-heart with his son, explain everything that’s going on– But would Toji really think of that right away?

“Change. We’re going out.” It’s an order, and Ryo doesn’t like it. He’s about to ignore Toji but Toji snatches the console that’s in the boy’s hands. “Don’t act like a fucking brat. Change. We’ve taught you better.”

“I’m staying with mom.” Ryo mutters, angrily getting out of bed to do as his father says. Toji won’t lie and say that the words don’t hurt him, but he remains stoic. 

“Hurry up. Your siblings are waiting.” Toji says before leaving the room, the console in his hand. He has to hide it before leaving.

“No more.” Emi pushes her plate away after taking a few bites of the food she ordered. She’s barely eaten, Toji wants to make sure that at the very least she finishes a chicken tender. 

“Can you at least finish this, please? You’ve barely eaten, princess.” Toji asks her, but she shakes her head. Toji has to find a way to bribe her, but first he has to deal with Megumi and Aimi who bicker about… Something.

“Chew with your mouth closed, don’t be gross.” Megumi corrects her, but Aimi isn’t going to listen to someone who isn’t her mother… Occasionally she listens to Toji, but it’s rare.

“I don’t care!” She yells, and Toji’s face slowly gets red with embarrassment. People are slowly looking at the table– It’s funny because he really thought that having Megumi here would be useful. Instead, he’s yelling back and forth with his five-year-old sister.

“You’re nasty, Aimi!”

“Your face is nasty!”

“Will you two quiet down?!” Toji half yells. His eyes linger on Megumi, “Remind me how old you are.”

“Sixteen.” Megumi answers, reality setting in when he says his age. His cheeks slowly turn pink as he waits for his father to say his next sentence.

“And you’re arguing with a five-year-old? Loudly, in a restaurant, dare I add.” Toji says, and Megumi pushes his plate away because he’s suddenly lost his appetite. Toji hadn’t realized just how hard it was to deal with all four kids without any help– Well, three kids since Ryo isn’t talking. He’s not doing anything. Toji clears his throat before asking, “Do you like the food, Ryo?”

Ryo doesn’t answer, and it’s slowly driving Toji to his limit. He’s talking to everybody but Toji, the moment Toji addresses him, he goes silent. Toji looks at Megumi and points at Emi, “Get your sister to eat.”

“Ryo, talk to me. Your mom and I are fine.” Toji claims, but Ryo doesn’t say anything because things clearly aren’t fine– After all, everyone is talking about it. Toji is essentially ruining the family by running off with his co-star.

“Ryo, do you want my leftovers?” Aimi asks her big brother and he hums in response, taking the plate from her. Toji takes a deep breath to remain calm. Ryo technically didn’t even say a word, he just hummed in response, Toji can’t be mad about that. Then Aimi asks, “Do you think daddy will get dessert? I think they have ice cream.”

“The key lime pie is better, plus we have ice cream at home.” Ryo argues and Toji gets an idea on how to get his son to talk to him.

“Do you really want the key lime pie? I thought you liked cheesecake better.” Toji comments, and Ryo doesn’t answer. He proceeds to talk to his little sister, and Toji can’t take it. He slams his hand on the table and causes a scene, “For fuck’s sake, Ryo! Don’t ignore me!”

If all eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely are now. The cherry on top is Megumi who tells Emi, “See, he’s going to do that to you if you don’t finish what’s on your plate.”

Emi begins to cry her little heart out, and Toji lets out the biggest sigh. Curse the day he decided to have kids.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Emi.” Toji says, but she’s crying and stuffing her face out of fear. Everyone is looking at him, some people surely recognize him. At least this fits the narrative that his family is falling apart, and while it was all a stunt at first, it’s starting to feel real.

It’s his fault, he can’t blame anyone else but himself.

“Finish up, we’re going home.” Toji sounds defeated, and he is. Taking the kids out to dinner should not be this hard. 

“What about dessert?” Aimi’s voice is filled with disappointment.

“Dessert isn’t happening because you kids don’t know how to behave.” Toji answers, and Aimi crosses her arms, a pout on her lips. Toji wanted to make things better with his kids, but unknowingly, he’s made them worse.

“Night, night, princess.” Toji kisses Aimi’s forehead, but she doesn’t care to even acknowledge him. She doesn’t say anything, turning to her side so she doesn’t have to look at him. Toji sighs, “You’re ignoring me too, huh?”

She doesn’t say anything, which doesn’t really upset Toji. She’s just mad that she didn’t get dessert, tomorrow she’ll be fine with him again. He kisses her temple before telling her, “I love you.”

He knows waiting for an answer is useless, so he turns off the lamp and walks out of the door. Aimi will eventually get out of bed and run after him to apologize because she feels bad since she loves her daddy so much. 

Toji closes the door, and he looks for Ryo’s console. Once the console is in his hand, Toji goes to his son’s room. Toji doesn’t bother knocking because he knows he won’t get a response. Ryo has the lights turned off, trying to sleep since there’s nothing better for him to do. But Toji knows that the child isn’t sleeping, he’s just like you, he tosses and turns a million times in the night before actually succumbing to slumber.

“Here’s the console, kiddo. Thanks for going out with us tonight.” Toji says, putting the console on Ryo’s dresser before walking over to his side to press a kiss on Ryo’s temple. Toji hears some sniffling coming from his son, which makes the man want to fall to his knees and cry as well. 

Toji has four kids, he’s heard them cry many times before for trivial things. He’s never really felt this before with one of them because he really wasn’t at fault. He was doing things for their own good… But this time he’s doing all of this for his own selfish reasons. 

“My baby boy, please talk to me.” Toji kneels down by the bed, hoping that his son will finally say something to him. It’s killing him slowly, he just wants to talk to him. Toji doesn’t want his kid to hate him, but it feels like Ryo is slowly getting there.

“I don’t want you and mommy to get a divorce.” Ryo finally speaks up, and Toji’s heart breaks when he hears him call you mommy, considering Ryo started calling you mom the day he turned eight. Toji stops kneeling, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Everything is fine between me and your mommy.” Toji says although it’s hard to believe. They’re not fine, but you’re not getting a divorce either. “We just have to talk things out, but we’re not getting a divorce.”

“All of my friends are talking about you and how you two will end up splitting.” Ryo finally sits up on the bed, and Toji doesn’t really understand why this is even a topic of conversation for Ryo’s friends, but it is and Toji has to deal with it. “And it’s your fault.”

It is, Toji can’t really say otherwise. But he isn’t splitting up the family– At least not by having an affair like the news claim.

“Ryo, I promise you that your mom and I are not splitting up.” Toji tries to reassure his son, but Toji isn’t all too sure himself. “We are having some issues, but it’s not because of what your friends are telling you. What they’re telling you is not real.”

“But–” He’s about to keep going but Toji has to cut him off. Toji can’t keep defending himself, he keeps using the same argument over and over again and he doesn’t know how many times he can actually say the same words.

“Did you ask your mommy about this?” Toji asks, and his son nods in response. Ryo has asked a million times and you always have the same answer. 

“Yeah… She said that you two were okay.” He replies, yet he doesn’t believe a single word of it. Toji is growing frustrated, but he can’t let it show. His whole job is to pretend to be someone else, to act out certain feelings and suppress the actual emotions that run through his body, he should be able to do that, right?

“Then why don’t you believe us? Your friends don’t know what’s happening in our relationship.” Toji points out, but that’s not enough for Ryo.

“I know mommy was lying.” 

“What do you mean? Did she tell you she was lying?” Toji’s confused. Ryo is ten, he’s not smart enough to spot a lie, especially from you. You’re a damn good actress, when you show your emotions it’s on purpose, and Toji doubts you were purposely showing your emotions.

“I was going to ask her something and I saw her crying…” Ryo confesses, and Toji furrows his eyebrows. He’s certainly hasn’t heard that, but Toji clears his throat before arguing,

“You do know that your mom has a completely different life and she could’ve been crying for something that doesn’t involve me, right?” Toji is sure that the crying had to do with him, but he isn’t going to let that be known. Ryo nods in response, since what his father says does make sense. Toji ruffles his son’s hair before kissing his forehead, “Next time you’re mad at me, don’t give me the silent treatment.”

“I won’t.” Ryo answers, although neither of them are too sure that he���ll keep up with his word. Toji stands up and gives the gaming console to his son, and Ryo wastes no time in taking it. 

“You can stay up late tonight.” Toji tells him, which puts a smile on his face. Toji also walks away with a smile on his lips, feeling victorious after getting his son to talk to him. Toji exits the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

Toji begins his walk to Megumi’s room, planning to check up on him. However, when his hand touches the doorknob, he feels a pair of tiny arms wrap around his leg. He looks down to find his five-year-old hugging him. He chuckles, “What’s up, Aimi?”

“Papa, I’m sorry. I love you too.” Tears are streaming down her face, feeling guilty about not telling her daddy that she loves him back. Toji picks her up from the ground, wiping her tears away and kissing her cheek.

“My little princess, I’ll get you some ice cream tomorrow.” He assures her, rubbing her back. She continues to wipe her tears because once they begin, they’re hard to stop. He takes her back to her room, reads her a story and puts her to bed once again. 

Toji continues what he was doing, checking up on his kids before going to bed himself. He waits for you, but it gets late. His eyes are closing on their own and before he knows it, he falls asleep. He’s getting old.

“Toji, baby–” You’re calling out to him. It takes a moment for him to open his eyes, but they open rapidly when he feels you kissing his cheeks. It’s definitely nice to feel you kissing him after barely acknowledging him the last couple of days. Still, he can’t help but question,

“Are you drunk?” You keep kissing him. He doesn’t smell any alcohol on your breath, but that doesn’t really answer anything. He feels your hand go down his torso to his sweatpants. You’re just incredibly horny, that’s a good enough reason. Your hand goes to his sweatpants, wrapping around the base of his cock before lazily stroking it. “What happened to you? What have you done to my wife?”

“I just need you. Need you so bad.” You say in between kisses. Your lips are on his neck, and Toji really can’t complain. He misses your touch so much– But what the hell happened to you? You were barely talking to him a couple of hours ago; either you’re on something or something happened to you.

“What happened, baby?” He stops you. Your hand comes out of his hands and you get on top of him. Your lips go on his, your tongue quickly entering his mouth and pressing against his. You’re avoiding the answer, and Toji grows worried. You’re grinding on him, and it’s hard for him to have a clear mind when all the blood rushes to his dick. He doesn’t remember the last time he touched you. You’ve been so mad at him that you shut him down the moment that he initiates something.

Toji wants to enjoy it, and his body is but his mind thinks about the fact that nothing has been solved. He’s not done anything to apologize to you, so he immediately thinks that you’ve done something. It takes every bit of him to push you away even though he doesn’t want to. You’re so gorgeous while you’re on top of him like this, that he doesn’t want to ask the question but he has to, “What did you do?”

“What do you mean what did I do?” You furrow your brows, and Toji clicks his tongue. He can’t believe that you’re initiating something and he’s stopping it. One week ago he would’ve been beating himself up for passing up on this opportunity, but he has to know why you changed your mind. 

“You’ve been mad at me, and now you’re all over me when I haven’t apologized.” Toji points out, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. That confirms that you’ve done something bad, and his heart beat speeds up, thinking of the worst.

“I met a guy…” You begin and Toji’s heart breaks. He doesn’t need to hear the rest of it because he knows. Tears well up in his eyes and he tries to take a deep breath. Yeah, he knew his actions would have consequences but not this. “We flirted a bit, just having fun and then he invited me back to his place–”

“You don’t have to–” Toji is about to cut you off, and he’s reasonably thinking the worst.

“I didn’t go back with him. I remembered the amazing husband I have, how much I love him, how amazing he is at everything he does. I wasn’t going to risk losing you even though I’m mad at you.” You have to interrupt him before he gets into his head. You press a subtle kiss on his jaw before your lips go to his ear, “But if you see some headlines tomorrow, don’t get mad at me.”

“You scared the shit out of me.” He chuckles. He guesses he’s getting a taste of his own medicine, but he’s not mad after his initial scare. Your lips go back on his, but they don’t last long before moving down his neck and torso. Your mouth kisses to his nipple, your tongue circling around it which makes him bite down his lip. 

Toji is sensitive. Just about anything will make him cum. You continue to kiss down his body until his sweatpants obstruct your path. You desperately push them down, while Toji reaches for the lamp to turn it on. He has a particular love for watching you while you take care of him.

Your hand wraps around the base while you spit on his cock. You stroke his cock a couple of times before your tongue circles the tip of his cock. You take your time working him up before you lower your mouth on his cock, taking in as much as you can take.

If Toji had known that this is how his night would’ve ended by letting you go out, he wouldn’t have tried to talk you out of it. A pathetic moan leaves his lips, feeling your warm mouth wrapped around him. He’s missed this, fuck. 

He wants to push your head down, forcing you to take all of him– Which he normally does, but it’s not going to end well. Toji knows well that you’ll stop, and he won’t risk that tonight. This is a sweet treat that he doesn’t deserve, he’s not going to risk losing it. 

You try to take all of him in your mouth either way, tears building up in your eyes as you gag, eventually spilling and messing up the makeup that was already coming apart. This is what Toji loves, watching the makeup that you work so hard on, fall apart just for him. And you do it because you want to. Because you love the taste of him on your tongue.

You take him out of your mouth, using your hand to stroke his cock. Toji’s moaning with your every touch, it’s hard not to. You’re just so fucking perfect with everything you do that it’s hard for him to contain himself.

“Baby, please–” He sounds so pathetic. Toji is usually much meaner in this situation, but circumstances have obviously changed. He just wants to feel your mouth wrapped around his cock. “Use your mouth, baby. Please–”

“How can I say no to you?” You chuckle before your mouth wraps around his cock again. You take as much as you can take, your hand stroking what your mouth can’t reach. He’s shutting his eyes, moaning your name as his climax approaches. 

His cum hits the back of your throat, and you raise your head. You swallow it, sticking your tongue out so he can check it. Toji sits up, his hand going down to your chin, thumb into your mouth. The bit of submissiveness that you had witnessed quickly fades. 

“Who’s my good girl?” He asks, your tongue circling around his thumb. He wants to know what happened that has you so aroused, but as long as you didn’t get physical, he doesn’t care. He takes his thumb out, a string of your saliva connecting it to your lips. He orders, “Open your mouth.”

As soon as your mouth opens, he spits in it. You don’t waste a second before swallowing. Toji lips meet yours again, his tongue messily entering your mouth and pressing against yours. You readjust your legs, knees on either side of him. You’re grinding on him again, and the man pulls away from the kiss, not doing so without biting your lip first. 

“You want me to fuck you, baby? You need me?” He asks as you push your panties to the side. You’re aligning him with your entrance, softly moaning as you push yourself down on him. You can’t wait any longer, you desperately need him. You softly moan as he fills you up, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. You’re sure no one will ever feel as good as Toji.

“Was thinking so much about you, baby. I missed you, Toji.” You moan, throwing your head back. You give yourself a moment to get adjusted to him before moving back and forth on his cock. His cock brushes your sweet spot, driving you insane. 

Toji shuts his eyes, getting lost in the moment. He’s missed you so much too, but he can’t speak right now because he’s groaning. He can’t believe that he’s gone so long without you… He shouldn’t have agreed to doing that publicity stunt in the first place. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” Toji moans, his hands going to your hips as you move on him. He hands roam, looking for the zipper of your dress, pulling it down so he can take your dress off you. His lips go to yours, your moans translating into his lips. 

You’re bouncing on him, his lips going down to suck on your neck. You let your moans roam into the air, feeling overwhelmed with how good you’re feeling. Toji barely even tries and he makes you feel euphoric. Maybe you were having second thoughts, but then you remembered just how perfect your husband is.

Toji pulls out, putting you down on the bed. He puts your legs on his shoulders before sliding back into you. He sets the pace, much faster than how you were going. Your hands are gripping the bed sheets, loudly moaning as your husband pounds into you.

“You’re so perfect, baby. You’re everything to me.” He praises you while one hand goes to play with your clit. You’re almost at your limit, and he feels it as your cunt squeezes around him. He says through gritted teeth, “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Oh fuck, Toji– I’m gonna–” You announce, so close to reaching your peak. 

“I know, baby– fuck, I know.” He groans. You’re driving him insane, it’s the effect that you have on him after not being with him for a while. God knows he needed this.

You loudly moan his name, your legs quivering when you reach your high. It’s hard for you to last when his cock reaches deep, and reaches all the right spots. Toji can’t help but praise you when you come, “That’s my good girl, that’s my fucking good girl.”

Toji’s thrusts begin to get sloppy, even though he wants to stay buried inside you for as long as he can. His hands hold on to your hips, nails digging into your soft flesh. 

“Inside of me, baby, do it inside me.” You tell him, knowing he’s nearing his release. You need to feel his warmth in every possible way, and Toji isn’t going to turn you down, certainly not with this. 

Toji comes to a stop, groaning before filling you up with his warm cum. He stays buried inside of you until making sure every droop is inside of you. His lips go down to yours, kissing you as he pulls out. 

“I’ve missed you, love.” He says before you both get comfortable in bed. You’ll wait a minute before going to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

“For the record, I’m still mad at you.” You say before kissing his cheek, causing him to laugh. You stand up, walking to the bathroom to take a shower before going to bed, and he follows behind because he’s truly lost without you. 

“You’re here late.” He points out, unsure of what to say next.

“When you don’t have the kids with you, things go surprisingly smooth… Speaking of, how was your night?” You get in the shower, and Toji is staring. He’s watching every single one of your movements, even when he tries to tear his eyes away, he can’t. You're just so perfect in every way, how can he look away?

“Why did we have so many kids? They made the night so difficult.” Toji shares, and he hears you laugh. It’s no surprise to you, you’ve handled the kids on your own so many times before, and you always swear that you won’t even think of having another one– But then Emi comes to you with her teddy bear and begs for cuddles which makes you reconsider.

“Welcome to my world.” You respond, and Toji chuckles. He lightly bites down his lip, debating if he wants to go back to bed. He really doesn’t, so he decides to join you in your shower.

“So you’re less mad?�� He asks, grabbing your sponge and pouring some body wash on it. Toji kisses your shoulder before he begins lightly scrubbing your body. You hum in response, and he can only wonder what you were up to– But he can’t complain. He couldn’t care less what you were doing as long as you’re not mad at him.

“I’m still upset though, don’t get me wrong.” You say as you take the sponge from his hand and use it on him. You peck his lips before muttering, “My husband has still been misbehaving, I won’t forgive him so easily.”

Toji doesn’t know how to come back from that so easily, so he ponders his answer. He helps you clean up.

“I talked to Ryo.” Toji announces, and you cock your eyebrow. Before you can ask about the details, Toji explains everything to you, ending off his sentence with, “Why were you crying?”

“Life gets tough when your husband is allegedly cheating on you.” You answer, and Toji bites his tongue. You have said a million times how you hate this arrangement, and Toji has been too selfish to consider your emotions. It’s not like you’ve been silent about how much you hate this. He can’t exactly be too mad at the fact that you’ve been ignoring him when it’s deserved. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Is all he manages to say. You turn off the water, and get out of the shower, Toji following your lead again, even though he’s barely washed himself. You have your towel wrapped around him, while he opts out of getting his towel.

“I think you’ll need a bigger apology, but I guess sex is good too.” You answer, but that’s not enough for him.

“I’ll call my agent and tell him that it’s off.” He says, and you stop in your tracks.

“No! You’ve already done this much, the premiere is soon. Stick with it for now and just clear up your name after.” You’re quick to object. That movie better do great after all you’ve been through for this. You’ve suffered for months, you can put up with some more judgment for another month or so.

“But now I feel horrible.” He responds, and you sigh. “I want to apologize.”

You take a couple of steps toward him, your hands meeting behind his neck. You kiss his lips before telling him, “Another little Emi will suffice.”

“Woman, how dare you?! After the night I’ve had, that thought makes my dick flaccid. Don’t you ever suggest having more kids!” He argues, and you look down. His words certainly don’t match his feelings.

“Are you sure about that?” You ask him, and he sighs. He isn’t going to lie to you, and he isn’t going to tell you that you’re right, so he does the next best thing, picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

You have a long night of apologies ahead of you.

[yzzart]

I KNOW, MY EYES ALREADY LOVE YOU ── KENJI SATO

── summary: What could be Kenji Sato's certainty and weakness?

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, morning sex, unprotected, riding, playing w/ nipples, dirty talk, praise, petnames, kenji being a fucking tease, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.798!

Kenji did not know, or did he understand, some certainties about his life, and, perhaps, it could sound like imprudence, the purest act of negligence he had the opportunity to tolerate; in fact, it was obvious. — He believed in this line of consciousness, attempted reasoning.

He declared that he made mistakes, countless mistakes, and, currently, he still thinks about the hypothesis that he could make them to this day; even though he wanted to, and tried, as much as possible, not to reveal what he believed to the cameras, journalists and specific people around him. — Sato wouldn't stand it, he knew that.

However, resonating with a merciless and sweet irony, seeming such a surprising incongruity, Kenji was, he knew, certain about one thing in his existence, something that he would not dare lie, deceive himself or dissemble; he imagined he might die if he did that. — His chest burned, sharply, just thinking about it.

You were one of Sato's weaknesses; in his view, the only one. — At the same time, it was his strength; knowing that, you can destabilize him, with ease and incomplexity, conceiving a change in his concentration and everything around, just by directing your eyes against his would be able to be seen as ridiculous and playing a vulnerable side and stealing his attention was peculiar. — Something incredibly curious.

But in Sato's eyes, it was a form, way of how to worship you; being able to feel a passion, intensely, disoriented and burning in his heart. — Admitting something so angelic and serene. — Not hiding the fact that you were his refuge, a place where he felt safe and loved and knew that it would protect him at all costs in his life; experiencing being worthy of you.

And every morning, every second and minute of it, at dawn next to you, with his body entwined with yours, Kenji thought about it.

"A kiss for your thoughts?" — A sleepy, so sweet voice exclaims in the boy's ears, spontaneously bringing a cunning smile to his lips; Kenji loved your humor, even during the early morning. — "What do you think?" — Even with the huge cuts in the windows, showing weak and soft bands of light, you refused to open your eyes at that moment, yawning.

"That's a very good proposal, should i accept it?" — He asked, looking down at your leg, which was in the region of his hips, and felt, deliciously, you pressing yourself against him; Sato's smile grew even wider due to the fact that you only had the blanket stuck to your bodies. — "Good morning to you too, kitten."

He considered some sleepy, boring mumbles and grunts that came out of your mouth as a response, and found it adorable; bringing his lips to your forehead, kissing it, while stroking your hair. — Taking care of his girl with delicacy and gentleness. — And more melodic hums were made by you.

You couldn't stop that familiar and delightful tingling between your legs, and soon you was clumsily rubbing yourself against Kenji's hips, — who didn't fail to find your morning boner fascinating and hungry — without a hint of shame.

"I see someone…" — A sensual laugh vibrated in your temple. — "…woke up very well." — He added, feeling a lump in his throat, unable to contain his shaky breath. — "No?" — Your hand snaked over Kenji's athletic chest, a line of coldness crossed his skin, caused by the ring you had on your finger; your engagement ring.

Not knowing how to resist, and never could, your movements, the painful, throbbing sensation began to burn, sharply, Kenji's dick, showing the large bulge developed in the blanket; he was already starting to feel needier than usual, wanting to fit his face into your neck and dive into your pussy.

Just thinking about being inside you makes Sato's breathing become a panting mess, not wanting or admitting to waste another second.

"I always wake up right next to you, Kenji." — You replied, lifting your head, directing your lips to the eldest's shoulder, trailing kisses across his skin; showing affection. — "Always." — The little kisses went up to his collarbone, your warm hands remained on his chest.

During the small movement between the sheets, caused by you, part of your boobs were exposed and shivering as they hit Kenji's skin; he didn't wait and anxiously felt the beak of one of them, squeezing it with a certain and frank force. — Drawing a sigh from you and making the player bite his lip, like prey. — The damn man liked doing that.

Sato was, indisputably, diabolical, the most arrogant and delighting provocation to ever stand before you.

“Come here, come.” — He asked in a whisper, cunning and with eyes clouded with desire, looking at every point of your face and eyes, running his tongue over his lips, leaving them wet and, faintly, shiny; waiting to be responded to, which didn't take long. — "Pretty girl."

Yours lips, eagerly, came together in a sinful, appetizing and wet kiss; Kenji's sharp tongue rubbed and caressed your, wanting to taste your mouth, as if it were the first time. — Sometimes causing a shock of contact between your teeth and his, nothing could stop you. — Moans, coming from you, delighting in his mouth, were muffled and made Sato smile bewildered.

Kenji felt, even so apprehensive and focused on your mouth, his body being touched, covered by your hands, and, lightly, your nails scraped his skin, desperate to touch him. — He couldn't help but find it cute and naive the way your hand moved to the back of his neck, shocking your bodies even more. — Feeling himself throbbing more and more.

You would be the death of Kenji Sato. — That was another certainty that covered his mind.

Moaning during the mediocre fraction of a second in which your lips disconnected, feeling an emptiness, you came across thin and fragile strands of spit slowly breaking and you vibrated when you heard Sato's smug laugh; his eyes surrounded your mouth, wanting it again. — He smiled, forming a pretentious and ambitious expression as he brought his thumb to your chin, holding it.

"Ride me like a good girl," — Sato clicks his tongue, incoherent. — "my good girl." — Aa words, referring with a hint of possessiveness and premise, made your pussy throb with exultation. — "Please, huh?" — Your lover pouted, almost sounding mocking but not hiding the need he burned for you.

He didn't need to say it twice, he knew there would be no need, even though he saw some clouds of pleasure, leaving you completely at the mercy of the excitement, leaving you beautiful head. — And, also, it wasn't long before your legs were around Kenji's hips, grabbing them with the limited strength you had; abandoning the silky, white sheet somewhere on the mattress.

Settling down, adjusting his posture on the soft, padded pillow, hoping for a good view, Kenji couldn't help but adore the image before his eyes; you were deliciously mounted on him and comfortable on his lap, in your honored place and feeling deified. — It seemed like an inexplicable, surreal and reprehensible scene, it could be the taste of the paradise they prophesied. — No, you were Sato's own, true and only paradise.

Your body surrendered to him, precise movements, with a moderate, almost weak strength and still clouded with sleep, against the young prodigy's hips, feeling his entire length sink, preciously, into your sticky and hot walls; never getting used to the way you was filled by Kenji, — and, wanting, dirty, at no point to get used to it. — leaving you more stimulated. — When you felt him completely, your lips opened, moaning harmoniously and delightfully, attracting panting sighs in the name of your lover.

And, with your boobs, delicious and juicy boobs, exposed, wide open, which, according to your movements, swayed and shivered in front of Kenji, wanting to devour them with desire and modesty. — And not tolerating losing the delicious vision, he preferred to remain where he was; but, he didn't hesitate in sliding his hand towards one of them and squeezing it, now, tightly.

"Ken..ji." — You moaned, whimpered, moving your hand towards his, which held your nipple, unbearably, sensitive with his calloused fingers. — "Fuck-k!" — You sobbed, threatening to release tears from feeling all that pleasurable pressure in your system; and, feeling the lack of sustenance, with the other hand, you moved across Kenji's chest. — "Ken, Kenji..."

"Is it good, my love?" — He says, removing his hand from your boob and repositioning it on your waist, guiding your movements, noticing your almost exhausted rhythm, poor thing. — "Fucking good, huh?" — He growled when he noticed a sudden tightness in his cock; your pussy choked and sucked him, divinely, well. — "O-oh, look what we have here." — He laughed, digging his short nails into your flesh.

The sharp, thin lamentations and melodic moans vociferated in Sato's ears sounded like masterful music, stirring him with every descent and ascent that you made in his lap; also mentioning the wet, filthy melody that your pussy made while swallowing his cock. — Such a greedy, hungry, desperate little thing for every inch of him.

"Keep it up, kitten." — He swore, quickly guiding your hips and showed a satisfied and happy smile when he saw that you responded to his orders, winking shamelessly in your direction. — "I love filling this pussy, fuck…" — He breathed deeply, shaking with another grip on his dick. — "with my cum in the morning." — Listening to Kenji's filthy words was a sin.

It was blasphemous, unacceptable to be able to tolerate, endure, for so long, all that excitement, — all that infernal provocation coming from your man — and adequately endure the stings that reached, perfectly, your sensitive and delicate spot, which only Kenji knew how to reach. — And he took advantage of that.

With incandescent, burning pleasure replacing all sensations, reactions of your body, finally, that nervous, tingling thread, trapped in your stomach, breaks free; accompanied by a tearful and disoriented scream, crying out for Sato, coming out of your mouth. — Cumming on his cock, having some spasms around it, you feel weak, about to become weak. — Like a pathetic little doll.

"Baby." — Hot, delicious jets of sperm painted your inner walls, taking him to the limit, as always; cumming inside you, Kenji filled you, leaving you satisfied, sated and fulfilled. — Having the impression that, still sitting on his lap, you was leaking yours mixed releases, causing an appetizing mess. — "Holy shit." — Ken moaned softly, smiling bewildered and drunk for you.

Tilting your head to the side, merely acting in a naive and harmless way, still with a look of tiredness and exhaustion, a thin and innocent smile tugged at the corner of your lips; making you even more adorable, captivating.

"Good morning to you too, Ken."

Yeah, in fact, you were Kenji Sato's main weakness.

[cvntluver444]

taking what’s not yours

best friends girlfriend!ellie williams x reader

-`♡´- summary : you’ve been in love with your best friends girlfriend forever now. you leave it alone thinking nothing will happen, but what if ellie has been secretly wanting you too?

-`♡´- warnings : smut minor dni, teeny bit of angst? cheating, breaking girl code, perv!ellie, dina slander (ilysm dina it’s for the plot im sorry), public stufff, abby x reader and ellie x dina in beginning, strap sex, fingering, oral, spanking, slapping, dirty talk, dom!ellie x sub!reader, reader is receiving everything lol, crying, masturbation watching!, ellie says some nasty things so if that’s not your thing you can skip this one, intended lowercase, if i missed any please let me know! <3

-`♡´- a/n : SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG this was so much fun to write i’ve been dying to post this!! i really hope you all like it! if you do, please show your support i appreciate it so much! if you don’t no worries! i’m a new writer so i can’t please everyone but i hope i do :p

🇵🇸 as always, please continue to keep sharing and supporting Palestine 🇵🇸

daily click

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“first double date!” your best friend dina screams in your shared apartment. you laugh and you finish putting in your earrings. “i’m so happy you finally stopped thinking about this mystery crush i don’t know about!” your heart skips a couple beats but you play it off.

“yeah you’re welcome, now you can get those bff double dates you’ve always wanted,” you say smiling at her.

“i know! and abby?” dina lets out an impressed whistle. “ok girl she’s cute!” you laugh and give her a friendly shove. abby was really hot. she had the biggest arms, and she was so tall it felt like she almost towered over you, but there was just something about her that didn’t make you fall for her, or maybe it was something about you? maybe you just didn’t find her all that cute, maybe you just haven’t given her enough time, or maybe it’s because-

“oh hey babe!” dina cheers and runs over to where the door just opened. oh yeah, that’s why.

“hey, you look good,” ellie says sending you a smirk and making your cheeks go warm. “what are you so dressed up for?” you and dina give her a confused look.

“remember els? our double date?” dina excitedly tried to remind her. “i told you about it yesterday but i think you were too busy on your phone.” she then tells her with an annoyed look on her face. ellie’s eyes widen.

“oh! uh i didn’t know that was you. i thought it was another one of your friends babe?” ellie says, a slight panic in her voice.

“ellie, she is like my only friend, or the only friend who would be going on a double date with us.” dina tells her. ellie finally understands then turns her line of vision towards you. “who’s the lucky lady?” she tries to joke.

wish it were you you silently think to yourself. but that’s wrong to think, because ellie is your best friends girlfriend and ellie sees you as her girlfriends best friend. that would be wrong, and stupid, and horrible, and kinda hot, just sneaking around and-

“abby. abby anderson.” you finally say, quickly snapping yourself out of your disgusting thoughts. ellie’s eyes widen again.

“wait abby?” she finally says. “oh uh that’s fun yeah this will be fun.” she rambles on. you and dina give each other confused looks but quickly forget about it once you three gather into ellie’s car and head to the restaurant.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you, dina, and ellie enter a small and dark restaurant that you randomly found this morning. it was a cute and casual place and all you wanted to do now was drink.

“you guys go and grab a table, im gonna order us some drinks and wait for abs.” you tell them.

“ok cutie you know what i want!” dina excitedly tells you. giggling, you send her a thumbs up and turn towards the bartender to put in your order, missing the way ellie stared at you when your heavenly laugh filled the restaurant.

after putting in your order, you feel a big pair of hands wrap around you and squeeze. you let out a a quick gasp before slowly sinking into the body behind you.

“abby you scared me!” you laugh and you turn around, giving her a hug.

“aw sorry gorgeous i just had to,” she said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. you catch up at the bar while you wait for you drinks. once you got them, you and abby headed to a corner table in the back to join the rest of your friends.

“abby’s here!” you excitedly say as dina gets up to give her a hug. you see ellie glance at her from the side of eye and make a small scoff.

odd you think.

“i’m so glad you could join us! you know ellie right?” dina asks and you and abby sit down. dina has the biggest smile on her face as she sits accrocs from you and chats with abby, who puts her arm around you. you could almost hear ellie scrunch up next to you at the touch.

you turn to her, “you ok?” you ask quietly. her facial expression changes into her usual smug as she asks you what you mean. “never mind, sorry,” you say back. you try your hardest to join in on dina and abby’s conversation, attempting to force ellie out of you mind but to no avail.

this is gonna be a long night.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

a couple drinks later, all four of you had a good buzz and conversation was flowing. abby’s arm fell off your shoulders as you drunkenly leaned into her. you were actually starting to have a really great time with abby. she was so sweet and respectful, and you could definitely see this going somewhere. you think she might feel the same when you feel a hand on your thigh, opposite side of abby. when did her hand get there?

you gasp. “abby!” you say her name playfully. “stopp” you drag out innocently.

“huh? i’m not doing anything,” she says back to you, confused look on her face. mhm you hum back. you allow her her hand to dance around on your thigh, until it finally moves up a little more, and her fingertips graze under your skirt. goosebumps cover your skin at how soft and delicate her fingers were.

“ok not funny anymore,” you slap her arm playfully, praying dina and ellie are too invested in their own conversation to see what’s going on under the table.

“i didn’t say anything,” abby laughs, “maybe you’re done with the drinks.” but then her fingers go from under your skirt, to under your underwear. you moan quietly and abby stares at you again.

“you good baby?” she asks, but you can’t respond because now her fingers are slowly pumping into your wet cunt, and as soon as they do, you hear a moan from ellie next to you.

you look over, seeing ellie and dina quietly making out next to you and your heart drops a bit. you wonder if they’re doing the same thing as you and abby, the table cloth covering your lower halves. the fingers in your pussy speed up their movements and your attention is back towards abby.

“fuck abs,” you breathe out.

“oh baby, what are you doing to me,” she moans out, both her hands coming to cup you face as she shoves her tongue down your throat, her fingers still reaching your spo-

wait what?

you stop kissing abby and dramatically look at her hands on your face. you count once, twice, three times. both hands on your face, one still deep inside of you. you panic and look around to where ellie and dina are still making out, however as you look back down, you realize it was never abby making you come close to cumming in fucking public.

it was ellie.

“oh my god!” you let out as you quickly stand up.

“hey hey hey you okay?” abby asks. both her and dina look startled at your reaction, as well as the whole restaurant. your head is spinning as you look around to see all the people staring at you.

ellie

instead of giving you a concerned look, she instead looks up into your eyes and smirks, bringing the fingers that were just inside you, to her lips, and slowly sucking your juices off her fingers. her gaze never leaving yours.

“bathroom,” you silently let out still in shock. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you tried your hardest not to stutter as you run to hide. once inside, you finally allow everything to hit you, hating yourself that you were even more turned on that it was ellie, your best friends girlfriend.

you gather your thoughts and try to keep everything down as you head back to the table. you see all of them standing up already, telling you it was probably a good time to head home. you agree, following them out the restaurant door.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the four of you make your way inside you and dina’s apartment, all of your happy banter filling the room.

“hey i think me and ellie were gonna head to bed, see you in the morning abby?” dina asks, a scowl on ellie’s face behind her.

“yeah, if that’s okay with you?” abby turns to look at your figure.

“yeah of course!” you cheerfully say, still feeling guilty about earlier. abby gives you a warm smile and your eyes stray away to look over at ellie, her eyes meeting yours. her frown turning to a smirk when she catches your gaze. you quickly turn away, feeling so much smaller than usual.

everyone heads upstairs and into the rooms. abby and you crawl into your bed as silence takes over.

“you sure you were okay today?” she asks you.

“yeah, i’m sorry i think i just drank too much.” you tell her laughing, a big smile on her when you do. the room falls quiet once again, before abby breaks it.

“you’re so beautiful.” you blush at her compliment and give her a quick peck.

“you’re too good to me.” you say, the situation earlier still not leaving your mind. instead of answering, abby pulls you into a more passionate kiss. she grows greedy and shoves her tongue into your mouth, showing dominance. she climbs on top of you and her kisses start trailing down your neck.

“fuck abby,” you moan out, she groans back in response, her kisses trail lower and lower until they’re finally resting on top of your clothes cunt. you beg her to do something before she slowly starts taking off your shorts, followed by your panties, leaving you in just your t-shirt.

“mmm so hot,” she tells her, then quickly starts licking your clit with her tongue. pleasure overtakes you, your mind overtakes you, and you think back to ellie, and how good she made you feel under the table.

“yes, fuck el-“ you catch yourself before you can finish, but sit up in a panic.

“woah, um are you sure you’re okay? we can stop.” you startle abby for a second time tonight, but we’re thankful she didn’t catch your slip up.

“uh yeah sorry um i just got really thirsty all of the sudden,” you rush out, standing up off the bed and going downstairs to get water. you don’t even give her a chance to respond, and you’re already downstairs at the sink. you chug your glass of water and give yourself a couple of little slaps on your face to snap out of it.

“nice outfit” you hear behind you, you quickly spin around standing face to face with ellie, the girl who’s name you almost just moaned upstairs. “or should i say..” she trails off and looks you up and down, “no outfit?” she questions, eyebrows furrowed as she bites her lip. it takes you a couple seconds to register that, while you were in your hurry, you completely forgot to put your pants back on, and now ellie had felt and seen your pussy.

“oh my god!” you silently panic and cover yourself.

“don’t be shy now,” ellie now stalks toward you. “nothing i haven’t seen before.” her infamous smirk once again resting on her stupid beautiful face. you felt so weak, you couldn’t do this right now, in fear that you would cave and become the worlds worst best friend. again.

“uh, what are you doing up?” you try to start some sort of conversation, but her movements don’t stop and she’s still heading straight towards you.

“well, i was gonna fuck my girlfriend, but then she fell asleep, and i was gonna go to sleep, but..” she paused again. “i heard you come down here after your little slip up with abby and had to hear all about it.” your eyes widen and your heart drops.

she heard.

“ellie no,” your eyes start to fill up with tears. you feel pathetic, but to ellie, you look so fucking good. “i’m so sorry it was just because of tonight and at dinner-“

“ah, tonight was really fun” she cuts you off. you back up into the kitchen counter and you’re trapped.

“your pussy tasted so good,” ellie tells you, her voice drops and her eyes fill with lust. “are you gonna be a good girl and let me taste you again?”

you can’t move. all your guilt and morals are now completely out the window as you stare up at the breathtaking woman in front of you. without thinking, you nod your head slowly, a dazed look on your face causing ellie to let chuckle.

“words baby, open that pretty mouth and use your words.” she tells you. she brings her hand up to your face, sticking her thumb into your mouth. “wider.” she orders you. you obey and her thumb travels into your mouth and down your throat, causing you to gag. she moves her thumb around in your throat, then collects your spit up in her hand, smearing it around your mouth. “good girl,” she says, as she softly slaps your face.

out of no where, her hands go under your thighs as she lifts you up on the kitchen counter. once up, she grabs the back of your head, forcing your lips to meet hers.

sparks

that’s what you felt, as cheesy as it sounds, you felt sparks and pleasure shoot through your body. ellie was such a good kisser. she took the lead, making your lips match hers in a sinful rhythm. with her tongue still down your throat, she spreads your legs open, both hands squeezing your thighs causing you to let out a whimper. ellie stops and slaps your face harder this time.

“stay quiet or ill stop.” she sternly tells you, hand aggressively gripping your face. you shake your head fast and try to go in for another kiss, but she backs away. “no, no, what do you think you’re doing. just stay put and look pretty. let me take care of you.” her dominance made your pussy even wetter.

she slowly goes down on her knees, trailing kisses up your thighs and her gaze never leaves yours. “els, please, need you so bad,” you beg her, you don’t care how pathetic you look, and you certainly don’t care that this is your best friends girlfriend who’s going down on you right now.

“how bad do you want it baby hm? why don’t you show me.” she has an sinister look on her face, but with your mind foggy with pleasure, you quickly get comfortable and make sure that your pussy is right in front of her face. you slowly start teasing your own pussy, fingers sliding up and down your folds, biting your lip and staring right at ellie. she stares right at your pussy, watching how you play with it, and how you make yourself feel good. it drives her mad.

slowly, you put one finger in your pussy, letting out a quiet moan. “need you right here, els. so bad.” but before you can get any deeper, she yanks your hand away and scoots you up closer to her mouth.

“fucking slut,” she breathes out, before shoving her tongue into you. pleasure hits you quickly, and your eyes fill with tears.

“oh my god, ellie,” you squeal. she ate your pussy so good. she knew exactly what made you feel good, and you were coming close. “you’re gonna make me cum, fuck.” now you looked pathetic. you couldn’t stop moving under her, she kept having to hold you down with her hands, which would definitely result in bruising in the morning. you had to grab onto her toned arms, hair, shoulders, anything. it was becoming too much. but before you could come undone, she pulls away quickly, toying with you a bit, then giving a quick slap to your pussy. you jolt up, moaning loud, before she comes up and shoves her finger into your mouth again.

“told you to shut this pretty mouth up,” she scolds you, but then she gets an idea. “i know something that can keep it busy.” she then connects her lips to your neck, leaving light kisses while she grabs your hand and brings it to the bulnge in her boxers. you clench and let out a gasp, not expecting her to still be wearing a strap, but needing her to do something.

“ellie, please fuck my mouth. please please please,” you beg her more and she bites her lip at your whimpering.

“so fucking perfect,” she compliments, pulling down her shorts. the same fingers that were in your mouth now trail to your pussy, where she starts to pump two fingers into you. “and so fucking tight,” she moans. “so much tighter than dina,” she smirks at you, watching your eyes widen and your heart drop, but your eyes roll back once she starts pumping faster.

“you think your ready for it baby?” she asks you.

“yes please ellie,” you beg. she lifts you up off the counter and you fall to your knees right in front of the strap. you stare up at her, your eyes sparkling, and ellie bites her lip as she feels herself get wet. you pulls your chin down gently and puts its in your mouth. you moan as you feel it touch your tongue.

“yes, just like that baby, fuck so good at taking me in your pretty mouth,” she tells you, the sight of you with the friction of the strap was just enough to drive her crazy. she starts pumping herself into you faster and faster, making you moan and gag, which was such a beautiful sight for ellie.

“fuck, i need you so bad,” she tells you, “flip over baby.” she demands, and you do. it’s clear that you have no shame. face down ass up on your kitchen floor waiting to be fucked by someone who is so incredibly off limits. ellie’s voice brings you back to reality.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.” you clench at her words, causing her to bite her lip. “fuck. cant wait any longer. have to fuck you.” quickly, ellie’s on her knees and lining the strap up so it’s perfectly aligned with you.

you gasp as she slowly slides into you so effortlessly. the kitchen slowly fills with the sounds of you wet pussy, the slapping of ellie fucking you, and both of your dainty moans. it was so sinful, yet so beautiful at the same time. ellie quickly speeds up her motions, her right arm grabbing you under your tits and bring you up against her chest.

“you look so fucking pretty when i fuck you,” she tells you, her left hand coming around to rub your clit. you cover your mouth with both of your hands as she starts pounding into faster and faster. lips covering every part of your face, neck, and shoulders. you two had a perfect rhythm, causing both of you to feel yourselves growing close and fast.

“els, you’re gonna make me cum,” you struggle to get out.

“i’m close too baby, cum with me please,” she now begs you, desperate to finish.

her thrusts are now faster than ever, as the noise in the kitchen becomes louder and louder, not caring if anyone heard. the feeling in your stomach now starts to unravel and your vision goes black. you let out a loud and long moan, which is quickly cut off by your hands returning to your mouth. however this time, ellie yanks your hands away from your mouth.

“wanna hear you cum,” she demands. you don’t hold back as you feel your thighs start to drip and your legs start to shake. you lean your head back on ellie’s shoulder, hearing her own moans of pleasure fill your ears. she fucks you a little more as she finishes, and then slowly pulls out of you.

you have never been fucked like that before. it was absolutely heaven.

“someone made a mess,” ellie smirks as she gives you a peck on the cheek. you look down and you realize you did in fact make a mess, ellie made you squirt.

“holy shit, i’ve never done that before,” you let out a breathy laugh and look up at ellie, who’s just biting her lip.

“s’hot,” she lets out, still exhausted from the best sex of her life too. you awkwardly stand up, still naked, and try to clean the floor, but ellie stops you.

“hey hey no let me do that, you just go to bed,” she politely tells you, and your heart melts. you ask her if she’s sure and she promises that she’s fine. you thank her and she pulls you in for one last kiss. “again sometime?” she asks you, and without thinking, you say yes and head up the stairs, telling yourself that you’ll deal with the guilt of it tomorrow.

you enter your room with a smirk on your face, still out of it from how good ellie fucked you. before climbing in your bed, you yelp as you see abby fast asleep. you completely forgot about her, she probably fell asleep, too tired to even wait for you because of how long you were taking.

again, you should feel bad, but you don’t, because ellie williams just fucked you, so you get dressed go to sleep with a smile on your face, dreaming about the next time you fuck your best friends girlfriend.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

LMAOOOO SORRY THIS IS AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE BUT I WANTED TO MAKE IT PERFECT EVEN THOUGH I RUSHED AT THE END SORRRYYY

i hope you babies enjoy ❤️ i love you

CVNTTTLUVERRRRRR owt

[ruth-odyssey]

༺✩༻ Taking what's not yours

theodore nott x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k 

summary: in which reader has a bad habit of taking her boyfriend's things.

tw. reader is a Gryffindor, some italien pet names

a/n. I genuinely have no idea how far from the Gryffindor common room the astronomy tower is soooo….

“Where in the world are you going at this hour?” You turn around, bag over your shoulder and a blanket in hand. Ron, Harry and Hermione are sitting around a table in the common room, Harry is looking at you clearly confused, eyes darting between you and blanket. “I'm going to the astronomy tower, I've got to finish up my star map for Trelawney.” Ron raises his head, looking at you as if the prospect of actually taking Trelawney’s homeworks seriously – which you had to do since you cannot bullshit your way through a star map – was unfathomable.

“We don't need to go to the astronomy tower for that homework?” Narrowing your eyes at Ron, you deadpan. “The homework is to draw a star map, meaning you have to see the stars Ronald. Unlike you two I won't settle for less than an A.” Harry snorts at that, clearly not caring one bit about said homework. He smiles at you, eyeing your blanket. “Where did you get that blanket from?  I don't think I’ve ever seen this one before.” You glance at said blanket, the soft, fuzzy fabric already warming up your hand. “It’s – You knit your eyebrows, trying to come up with something. – it's kind of old so I don't use it much? Yeah that's why I’ve never seen it before.” You add more confidently. Hermione looks up from her own work, offering you a tired smile. “I think it's great that you’re putting in the work.” She glares at the two boys at that – while Hermione still thought that the study of divination was absolutely ridiculous, she didn't like how easily Harry and Ron would fake their way through their work (usually by predicting their own death) – You roll your eyes, heading towards the portrait. “I'll see you guys later!” You exit the common room, and start making your way to the astronomy tower. 

—————————————

Okay, maybe you should have brought something warmer. You’re currently freezing your ass off in the astronomy tower, your divination homework already done, sitting on your laps, forgotten. Trying to concentrate on anything but the biting cold brought by the late october night, your ears fail to pick up the sound of footsteps. You snap your head towards the stairs, the sound of someone tripping and cursing bringing you back to reality. You get up as a figure appears. “Theo!” You smile and run up to him, finding comfort – and warmth – in his embrace. Your nose is filled with the smell of his cologne. “I'm sorry I'm late Bella, Draco and Mattheo keep asking me for help with the Arithmetic homeworks.” He apologizes, deep voice softer than usual, a tone he only uses with you. You leave his embrace, just enough to get a look at his face. The moonlight illuminating his features, green eyes, staring at you lovingly. His gaze travels from your face to the rest of your body. He smiles, taking in the blanket on your shoulder. “I was looking for that.” He says, his finger grazing the soft fabric of the blanket. You smile letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah Harry was wondering where I got it from.” “Cara mia you need to be more cautious, you did the same thing last week with my sweater. At this rate, your friends will soon find out about us.” As much as you loved your friends, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them about you and Theo. You simply couldn't tell Harry and Ron since they are convinced every single Slythrin are pure evil and with Hermione, – who you knew would be the most understanding – you had tried, only for her to tell you Draco had called her a mudblood yet again on the day you had planned to tell her. Theo’s hand finds your face, finger softly grazing your cheek. “Are you alright?” You nod, silently pulling his hand to sit down. 

He sits down beside you, one arm around your waist, the other inside his pocket due to the biting cold. Man, I wish I had pockets right now. You flex your fingers, desperately trying to warm them up, when an idea pops into your head. You discreetly stuff your hands in Theo’s pocket, cuddling further into him. Theo raises an eyebrow as you shove your hands in his pockets. “What are you doing, trying to steal my pockets now?” He teases, you send him a scandalized look, a smile teasing the corner of your lips. “Stealing???! I’ll have you know I am simply borrowing it, since I’m cold!” Theo smiles, looking up at the sky. “Semantics… – he pauses and looks at you – So what are you gonna steal from me next? You’ve already got my heart, my blanket, my pocket… what's next on the list.” “Your family name.” Theo’s eyes widened a bit, clearly caught off guard by your answer. He quickly regained his composure, a smirk on his face. “I’ll be happy to oblige when we graduate cara mia.” You smile and he leans in, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, gentle and sweet, like the first snowfall of winter. Pulling away, you rest your head against his shoulder, content to spend some time with your boyfriend. Suddenly, Theo's head snapped to the side. You raise your head to look at him confused when he puts a finger over his lips. There. It's unmistakable; someone is coming up the stairs to the astronomy tower. Your eyes widen and you look at Theo, panicked. Could it be Filch? Or maybe a student? He silently gestures for you to get up and follow him. The both of you somehow manage to make it down, only to find Filch and Norris, blocking the very staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room. You turn to Theo who's been surveying the staircase, as if staring would make Filch leave faster. “What do we do, it's already late.” Theo’s eyes meet yours. “You could come to the Slytherin common room with me.” You open your mouth to protest but he stops you. “I’ve got my own room. You can sleep with me tonight and tomorrow I'll sneak you out early.” Thinking about it for a bit you nod – while you were still anxious about the whole thing there was absolutely no way in hell you’d pass up the opportunity to sleep with your boyfriend. – “Okay fine, let's go.” 

Theeo’s room is exactly how you imagined it would be. Chaotic but at the same time organized, papers and discarded cups of coffee on his desk and stacks of books next to his bed. You remove your Gryffindor robes in favor of one of Theo’s t-shirts and slide beneath the soft, warm sheets. You sigh as Theo lays down behind you, his arm finding your waist. He places a kiss on the crown of your hair whispering a small good night. 

—————————————

You wake up a few hours later. It's been a while since you’ve slept that well. You hear Theo shift behind you, his hand lazily draped over your waist. Letting out a deep breath, you shift your head slightly looking at the clock next to the bed. 8:35…. 8:35???!!!!! You bolted upright, the realization hitting like a bucket of ice water. You were late. Very late. “THEO, THEO WAKE UP!!!!” Theo let out a groan, shielding his eyes from the sun peaking through the curtains. You get out of bed, looking for your uniform. You enter the bathroom, quickly wash your face. Going back in the room, you rummage through your bag trying to find your mascara, concealer and some lip gloss, hoping none of your friends would question where you had spent the night. You glance at the bed where Theo is still half asleep. He opens his eyes a bit, just enough to look at you. “Cara mia what's going on?” “Theo, my love, it's currently – you look at the clock – 8:40, we are VERY late.” Theo’s eyes snap open. “WHAT.” He turns towards the clock, and groans, scrambling out of bed. He almost trips in his haste, putting on his pants and shirt. The both of you somehow manage to leave the Slytherin common room without being seen by anyone. Reaching the Great Hall, you give Theo a quick peck on the cheek, walking a little faster not to seem suspicious. You quickly make your way to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Ron. Hermione looks up, smiling. She opens her mouth, eyes darting to your neck. You hold up a hand “Yes yes I know, I’m late, I’m sorry,” You grab a piece of toast, and serve yourself a cup of coffee, throwing a discreet glance at Theo, who’s currently talking with Draco. You make eye contact and his eyes linger on your neckline, he smirks and turns back to his conversation. You narrow your eyes, wondering what that was about. “Y/n?” You start buttering your toast. “Yes Hermione?” “Care to explain why in the name of Merlin you are wearing a Slytherin tie?”

[babyleostuff]

spreadsheet

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: (architect)student!mingyu x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 980

SYNOPSIS: if there's one thing mingyu finds incredibly sexy, it's intelligence

“i give up.” 

that was honestly the last thing you’d ever expect to hear from your boyfriend. kim mingyu never gave up, and even if - it wasn’t everyday that his ego allowed him to admit to failure.

confused, you looked up from your computer to see what finally managed to defeat him, just to be met with a very pouty, and a very annoyed boyfriend looking at the screen of his own computer, like he had some personal vendetta against it. 

you quickly covered your mouth with your hand to hide the smile forming on your face. you didn’t need mingyu to think you were making fun of him. “weren’t you supposed to work on your exam project?” you asked, doing your best not to burst out laughing. there was just something about that hunk of a six foot two man with killer biceps who was sitting opposite you, and pouting like a five year old that made you cackle. 

“yes, but i have to use a spreadsheet or whatever to sort out some of the information, and,” he sighed, “i have no idea how to use it.” 

with a loud bang, mingyu’s forehead met the table, which would definitely leave a small bump he’d make you kiss better later. huh, so he really gave up. 

“i don’t think i understand,” you crooked your head at him, pushing yours and his computers away, so you could lean over and place your hand at the nape of his neck. “kim mingyu, one of the best future architects, doesn't know how to use a spreadsheet?” your boyfriend was smart smart, there was no way he didn’t know a couple of formulas to sort out the data.

mingyu groaned loudly, and shook your hand off his neck. “don’t make fun of me baby,” with a whine, he lifted up his head, revealing big shiny puppy eyes, which were practically begging for your help. “as you said, i’m an architect, not a computer science guy!” he exclaimed, his lips turning more and more pouty with each word. 

for a person that loved to make fun of coups and his pout, it didn’t seem like mingyu realised how big of a pouty baby he was himself. 

“i don’t think you need to study computer science to know how to use a spreadsheet, gyu,” you said, and ran your thumb over his jutted out lip. “besides, you study maths and physics, shouldn’t you know how to use this kind of stuff?” 

“if this is your way of making me feel better it’s not working,” mingyu huffed, grabbing your hand in his. “and i really need to figure this out, but i have no idea how. i tried watching tutorials, but i still don’t get it. like, the more i try to understand it the less sense it actually makes,” his breath ghosted your knuckles, as his lips moved against your fingers.  “please tell me you’re an undercover tech guru, so you can do this for me. ” 

you gave mingyu’s hand a little squeeze, and took his computer with your free hand, sliding it over to your side of the table. 

“what are you doing?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice. 

you shook your head in amusement, and squeezed his hand once again, as you transferred all of the necessary data into a new, empty spreadsheet. “i may not be a tech guru as you called it, but it’s a good thing you have a super smart girlfriend,” you murmured, focused on the screen, “that knows the basics of how to use a spreadsheet.” 

you didn't have to look at mingyu to know that his eyes were wide and his mouth open in bewilderment - but it wasn't your fault - it's not like you ever had the opportunity to show off your skills before. besides, mingyu was so in love with you and he was so down bad that you didn't have to do anything special to make him look at you like you just invented a new element.

“it’s really not that hard, you just have to,” the quiet noise of you typing filled your living room for a moment, “you have to know which formals to use.” 

mingyu couldn’t tear his eyes off you. how in the world did he manage to bag a girl that was not only insanely beautiful, but also smart as hell? though he couldn’t see what exactly you were doing (not that he cared about that, he wouldn’t understand any of it anyway), mingyu was sure you were doing magic with those damn spreadsheets. 

“here,” you said with a proud smile a short while later, “is this what you were meant to do?” you turned the computer around for him to see the, yes - perfectly sorted data, just like his professor wanted them to be. 

“you are so fucking hot.” 

mingyu couldn’t help himself. he loved acting like he was the smartest in the room, but holy shit - his girlfriend was a genius, and he’d act all dumb just to have her fill out his spreadsheets. 

“you are literally the most amazing thing ever, baby,” mingyu breathed, still looking at you with disbelief. “so so smart, and so so mine.” 

you snickered, and threw a rolled up napkin at him. “calm down, gyu. that was nothing, seriously.” 

“nothing?!” he exclaimed, offended. “nothing, you say? so why was i struggling with it for the past hours?” 

“if you paid more attention in class i’m sure you’d manage perfectly on your own,” you said, suddenly shy under his stare. the lovesick look was truly overwhelming. “now, will i get something in return?” 

mingyu's expression suddenly seemed to change from pure surprise and admiration to something that pretty much resembled smugness. “what do you have in mind, princess?” he asked, crooking his head at you. 

you smiled and pointed your finger at your lips.

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[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two!!! | part one

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper, reader gets injured, innuendos for smut (they did it) | words: 1k again im sorry but i have plans for spence!!

It finally happened. The day everyone had been dreading. Finally, your hot temper got you injured during a case.

You caught a guy, he fit your profile exactly. You knew deep down it was him. He didn't react well to confident women, so Hotch sent you in to interrogate him. You would break him down, reduce him to mere atoms.

"Come on, Charlie," You had your hands on the table, leaning over to him. "We know you killed those women. We have all the evidence right here. Save yourself some jail time and just admit, yeah?"

Charlie kept his eyes trained to the floor, "I didn't kill those women." He stated, voice quiet.

You could see the sweat on his face, the way his foot tapped. "You can't even look at me!" You laughed, "Of course you didn't kill those women. You can't even look at one without almost pissing your pants." You gave Charlie a small tsk, "But I guess that just goes to show you aren't so tough, huh? You couldn't control a situation, not if you wanted to, not even if you tried. You--"

Stars. You saw stars and heard a loud clang. It took you a moment to realize you were on the floor. You felt absolutely nothing for a second, then a searing hot pain in your head. Finally, you looked up to see Charlie had a thick, sharp rock in his hand. He had struck you. The table and chair were on opposite sides of the room, and there was blood on the rock. Your blood. You pushed yourself up to the wall, unable to stand up or speak.

"Yeah? I can't control a situation?" Charlie taunted, "Guess you got your fucking profile wrong, you little bitch!"

The door was busted open, Hotch and Derek running in. Derek got the guy under his control as Rossi and Spencer ran in.

"Hey, hey," Hotch kneeled beside you. "Come on, let's stand." You felt his arms under you, lifting you up.

Spencer was quick to take one side of you, helping you out of the room. "Hey, sweetheat, it's alright," You heard Spencer say. "You're okay now. Come on, say something!"

The genius refused to leave your side, even as the paramedics came into the room. One went to touch your head, but you flinched away harshly, grabbing his arm. "Don't you dare touch me," You hissed. It was the first thing you'd said.

Your team watch in shock, surprised you refused help. Spencer was quick to jump in, recognizing you were in flight or fight mode. "Honey, he's just trying to help you," Spencer softly explained. "He's gonna help your head,"

"It won't hurt?" Your voice turned soft, nearly a whine due to the pain.

Spencer shook his head, "It won't hurt. I'll hold your hand the whole time, okay?" After a slight hesitation, you nodded. Spencer laced his fingers with your own, letting you lean on him for support as he rambled about random statistics to help occupy your mind.

Hotch instructed that Spencer was to take you back to the hotel for the rest of the night to rest. He drove you there, allowing you to pick the music and temperature for the car. The whole time, you held his hand.

Once you got back to your room, he helped you in. He was kind enough to help you take off your jacket and slip off your shoes. After he was done, he turned around, ready to leave.

"No," You called, pulling him back with your hand that you had in his. "I want you to stay."

Spencer was quick to turn back around, "Of course, yeah, I'll stay." He slipped off his own shoes and sat next to you on your bed.

"I shouldn't have been so harsh," You muttered. "I got myself hurt."

"Hey, no," Spencer shook his head. "That guy would've hurt someone no matter what. He was ready. You didn't get yourself hurt, okay? It was all his fault. You were doing your job, one you're damn good at."

You felt your eyes water. "I'm too mean, too quick to anger." You muttered as Spencer took his hand, gently pulling your head onto his shoulder. "I wish I wasn't."

"I don't," Spencer responded, voice soft. "I, uh, love you just the way you are."

Finally someone said it.

You didn't even respond in words, you just pulled his face to yours and pressed your lips together. Spencer took no time in reciprocating, kissing you back with a firey force. You'd both been waiting for this for so, so long.

"I love you too," You breathlessly responded as you pulled back. Spencer didn't let you have another moment as he pulled you back to his lips, chasing the gratifying feeling it gave him to finally be kissing you. "Spence, air," You gasped, pulling back.

"You can last three to five minutes without air," Spencer mumbled, pressing kisses to your lips as he spoke. "I think you'll be okay for a few more."

Even while practically making out with you, you loved that Spencer couldn't help but use his big brain to ramble off some facts. "Thought you had to go back,"

"They'll be fine without me," You giggled at Spencer's response.

After a half hour, Spencer's phone began to buzz. It was Derek. Spencer, half undressed, rolled over to look at his phone. "Who is it?" You asked.

"Morgan," Spencer said. He hit the decline button, leaning back over to you when it buzzed again. He let out a frustrated groan and picked up the phone. "What, Morgan? I'm busy."

You could hear Derek from how close you were to Spencer. "Busy? Doing what?" He paused, "Oh, doing who- Wait a minute--"

Quickly, Spencer hung up the phone. "I think he got the point." Spencer smiled as he silenced his phone. He turned back to you, caressing your cheek. "Where were we?"

Back at the station, Derek's jaw was slung open. "Guys, you aren't gonna believe this." He turned back around to the team who stared at him curiously, wondering where their genius went. "They're having sex, Reid and L/n."

"No way!" Emily laughed, "Now?"

"Hotch did send them to the hotel," JJ smiled.

With a shrug, Hotch held out his hand. "Today is day four. Pay up,"

"You!" Rossi pointed his finger at Hotch. He slowly began to pull out his wallet. "You sent them back on purpose!"

"She was hurt," Hotch held back a smile. "I would do no such thing, especially on a case."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Case's over. Right after we detained the guy again, he admitted to it. You just wanted to win this." Derek slapped a crisp twenty in Hotch's hand, along with the rest of the team. "I guess I'll let Garcia know she owes you."

Hotch smiled to himself, "I'm always right."