#and I’ll probably be crying again later

[pankowcrumbs]

hiii!!!

could i request a will pointer c reader where he is a girl dad and his daughter gets her first period?? like is he chill and professional or freaking out??

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

It started with a whisper.

Or rather, it started with our daughter whispering my name from behind the bathroom door, the way she did when something felt just a bit too big to handle alone.

“Mum?”

I was in the kitchen, elbows-deep in dish soap, humming whatever song was stuck in my head that day probably something embarrassing.

“Mum?” came again, this time slightly urgent.

I dried my hands and made my way down the hall, knocking lightly.

“Yeah, sweetheart? You alright?”

“I think…” she paused, voice wobbling a bit. “I think I got my period.”

Oh.

Oh.

The First One.

I tried to act completely unfazed the way you do when your baby, who used to think unicorn bandaids were medical-grade, suddenly becomes the kind of young woman who gets periods.

“Oh, okay,” I said gently. “That’s totally normal, love. Do you want me to come in?”

A quiet “yes.”

When I opened the door, she looked up at me, wide-eyed and pale, wearing an expression I hadn’t seen since she thought she broke her dad’s iPad at age seven.

“I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like the world’s ending… in slow motion.”

Ah. Yep. That tracked.

I helped her clean up, showed her where the pads were (we’d stocked them in advance, of course my doing, not Will’s), and talked her through everything as gently as I could.

She asked if it was normal to feel weird.

I told her yes.

She asked if she had to tell Dad.

I said only if she wanted to.

And she said:

“…I sort of do. But I also sort of want to die.”

Which is where things got interesting.

Will was in the garden, hunched over the barbecue he insisted was “not seasonal, babe, it’s a lifestyle”, flipping halloumi with tongs like it was a full-time job.

I walked out, casually sipping a lemonade.

“Hey,” I said lightly, “quick thing your daughter just became a woman.”

He froze mid-flip.

“…What?”

I took another sip. “Period.”

His face turned white. And then impressively red.

“Is she okay? Where is she? Should I...do I go in there? Or do I stay out? What does a person do in this situation? Am I meant to buy her something? Flowers? Ice cream? Burn the patriarchy?”

I blinked. “You’re spiralling.”

“I am not spiralling.”

“You’re sweating.”

“I’m over a barbecue!”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Silence.

Then, in the most serious tone I’ve ever heard from him, he said:

“…Does she need a hot water bottle?”

I’ll give him credit when it came to parenting, Will tried. God, he tried.

He was the kind of dad who made spreadsheets for school runs. Who learned how to braid hair via YouTube. Who kept hair ties and bobby pins in the glovebox “just in case.” But this? This was a whole new boss level.

He stomped inside like a man on a mission.

I watched from the kitchen as he paused outside her room, knocked softly, and waited.

I couldn’t hear what was said. But I could see it.

Her door opened. Just a crack.

Then she pulled him inside.

Later, he came downstairs like he’d just been through an emotional war zone. Flopped onto the sofa like it owed him money.

“She’s okay,” he said, dazed.

“Good.”

“I told her I was proud of her.”

“Perfect.”

“I said periods are like being part of a superhero club. Bleeding monthly and still going about your day like it’s nothing? Iconic.”

I stared at him. “You said the word iconic?”

“She laughed!”

“And didn’t throw a pillow at your head?”

“Not even once.”

“Progress.”

He exhaled, sinking deeper into the cushions.

“I just…” he looked up at me, “she’s still my baby, you know?”

“I know.”

“She used to cry when I left for a night shoot.”

“She used to call pads ‘butt bandaids”

We both laughed.

Then he went quiet again.

“She asked if it means she’s grown up now. Proper grown up.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her it means her body’s changing, but she can still be a kid for as long as she wants to be.”

I nodded. “That’s exactly the right answer.”

He smiled, though it looked a bit wobbly.

“She still wants me to make dinosaur pancakes tomorrow.”

“See? Still your baby.”

“Still mine.”

That evening, he cooked her favourite dinner pasta with far too much cheese, garlic bread so garlicky it could kill a vampire at 20 paces. She sat at the table in her coziest jumper, an extra pad stashed discreetly in her pocket just in case, hair tucked behind her ears.

They chatted about nothing and everything.

He didn’t treat her like she was fragile. Or awkward. Just… as her.

After she went up to bed, I found him standing in the bathroom, reorganising the medicine cabinet.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He held up a mini pack of pads and a hot water bottle shaped like a penguin.

“I’m making her a Period Shelf.”

I paused. “A what?”

“You’ve got the top shelf. Now she’s got the second one. Everything she might need. Pads. Painkillers. Heating things. Little chocolate bar stash.”

He looked up at me.

“I just want her to know we’ve got her.”

My throat felt tight.

So I kissed him.

Right on the forehead.

The next morning, I caught them in the kitchen Will hunched over the stove, flipping dinosaur-shaped pancakes (poorly), while our daughter stood beside him, supervising with a cup of tea in hand like a tiny executive chef.

They were laughing about something.

I didn’t ask what.

Just smiled.

Because it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t even particularly well-cooked.

But it was love. Loud and messy and kind.

And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

[chamomile-teas]

Cookie was the most petty, determined, and conniving dog I’ve ever had and I loved that about her

she passed yesterday and I miss her soo much so here are some of my favorite memories about her in no particular order

Back during 2020 I used to sleep in a room that has doors you just push/pull to open and she managed to figure out that if she ran at them they would open and since I would always stay up late I’d be the last person in the house to wake up so everyday she would bust down the door so she could curl up on the bed with me

I don’t even know why but she HATED my sister and went out of her way to come all the way upstairs just to pee right in front of her door on a daily basis for at least a month just to be petty

She also had a habit of trying to eat just about anything she could find and one time I caught her trying to chew off the corner of my of the bricks in our backyard

There was also the time that she followed someone into the pantry and they accidentally shut her in there and instead of trying to claw at the door or bark to let us know she was in there she just sat there, in the dark, chewing her way through the rind of the watermelon and I don’t know how long she was in there but by the time we found her she had gotten to the red bit (she was a yorkie for some size perspective)

We got her and my family’s chihuahua Chloe at the same time and they would both get sooo jealous of each other but didn’t care about attention otherwise (You could have literally called one of their names and they would refuse to look at you and you could hear the other one making their way across the hardwood floors to get to you)

I never really brought her in my actual room because I like to keep my door shut but a few weeks ago I let her in here right after I gave her a bath and she loved rolling over onto her back to rub herself against the carpet but I wasn’t thinking and I put her down for not even 2 seconds so I could fix my blankets and watched in horror as she managed to get from one side of my room to the other rubbing herself against the carpet the entire way in the span of about 5 seconds

She would also do the same thing with towels and any blankets she could find, drying off was always her favorite part of whenever I’d give her a bath

I wasn’t there to see it but my mom sent me a video of her while she was in the middle of playing tug of war with Chloe over a rope toy and she just decided to play dead while holding it in her mouth

Anytime I went downstairs in the middle of the night she would always get up to follow me around the kitchen and would wait until I went back upstairs to go lay back down so I started putting her in my little sister’s room (the one I used to sleep in) right before I went back upstairs because I didn’t want to leave her alone in the dark

If you stopped petting her and left your hand in reach or called her back while holding out your hand because she would start walking away she would gently play bite your hand (actually now that I think about it I never saw her do that to anyone else)

[scuorge10]

I feel cringe posting these especially since they don’t make sense at all but I just felt like drawing the cursed brothers (even tho I’m still learning the lore).

Don’t ask me what the last one is supposed to be I wanted to draw one of them as a lion for no reason

[historyartthings]

Absolutely loving, adoring, Le*nda de L*sle’s review of MacCulloch’s work...

My thoughts, feelings, opinions I’ve put below. It gets very long because I cannae haud me wheesht

I don’t know why she’s obsessed with the idea that he mustn’t have loved his wife. ‘the supposedly grieving widower’? I don’t think the arrangement of a marriage for a king - which Henry obviously agreed to - is a sufficient way to judge what Thomas’s relationship with his wife was like. The (foreign and domestic) political, religious and dynastic factors at play there can’t be ignored in favour of extrapolating that he didn’t understand marrying for love. The “happy marriage” in quotation marks😭 have got to laugh. her condescending cynicism is based on nothing tangible, as far as I can work out. She shades MacCulloch as well through the, ‘he believes that although the evidence is sparse, Cromwell was indeed a grieving widower'…. Ngl I would argue it’s not a particularly strained logical leap to assume he might’ve been upset.

We know barely anything about their relationship. Mostly what can be concretely said is he, unusually, never remarried - we’ll obviously never know the reason(s) for that, but still. There was seemingly one notable relationship outside of it, which we only know of because it resulted in an illegitimate daughter, a wee while after his wife passed away. But even that isn’t for 100% certain. He also atypically didn’t have a mistress. There’s also exactly one (1) extant letter from him to his wife, which is pleasant enough, but not much revealing - he asks her for news of home and sends her a deer. she didnt live long enough so as to have any external remarks on their marriage once he entered court spheres. Essentially it’s impossible to draw anything more than speculative conclusions, but based on what can be tentatively extrapolated from his actions, it seems more likely he grieved for his wife than didn’t imo. And also just considering natural, human emotion??

(Even if you want to suggest they didn’t marry for love in the beginning - and/or weren’t in love by the end - they were married for what? Roughly a decade and a half? With no signs of estrangement, and friendly correspondence in letters to Cromwell asking him to pass on their regards to his wife. So even if it was simply an amicable relationship, on a basic level being with someone in such close proximity, for that long, and losing them is probably going to be upsetting?)

On a tangential note, as MacCulloch does point out, the valentine to Mary mentioned here wasn’t at all romantic - it’s misleading to present that, as she does, as an attempt for he himself to marry into royalty. Or more charitably, I think she misremembered the context for it from the book

I’d also question de Lisle’s point about the executions. Personally I don’t think it suggests a greater misogyny than any of his contemporaries? Imo it’s indicative of the broader pattern of a brutal, violent ruthlessness towards those he saw as any enemy, in his way, and/or as going against the crown/policy etc. As opposed to any particular or especial hatred towards women. This isn't meant as an excuse for those actions in any way, because they're - quite obviously - horrific. I just question the rationale behind such a judgement of even-worse-than-usual-for-the-time-misogyny based upon it. Such brutality wasn't isolated to women, men were treated just as abominably. She talks of their humiliation to evidence her point, but again, men were faced with the same. (Ask Richard Whiting who got dragged up Glastonbury Tor at nearly 80, whose case involved, 'to be tryed [presumably for treason] at Glaston and also executyd there' from cromwell's remembrances; or John Forrest, who was strung up in chains, which is a humiliating - to use her term - prolonged death in itself, but was also supposedly burnt using kindling made from a statue of a saint - oh how clever of you!). We don’t (afaik) have letters or remarks which reflect cromwell’s views on women in the same way as for Norfolk, for example. it's just a bizarre extrapolation to me. again, imo it's an incredibly dark, ruthless streak through his personality. it seems to have been his standard handling of any major execution. Also, to be clear, I’m not suggesting he wasn’t sexist/misogynistic, because ofc he was. All men back then were, as a symptom of living and socilisation in such a patriarchal society.

(also interesting for her to pair this suggestion w/ her thoughts about his marriage come to think of it. she seems to be linking the two in a broader picture, I assume wherein this should be added to the ‘evidence’ he didn’t/couldnt have loved his wife)

also the contrast of his physical looks in the Holbein, against his 'becoming' a 'convivial figure' in MacCulloch's work, is disappointing. not reading personalities from portraits, nor ascribing negative character traits to appearances and/or weight (implicitly or otherwise) shouldn't be a big ask, but apparently is. It'd be a wee bit different if she’d pointed to his expression - I still think that’s an unsound way to go about things fwiw - which at least isn’t intrinsically linked to his features, but alas no.

Lastly, re: MacCulloch’s arguments, i would say he’s more impartial than she implies. He might be Anglican, but I wouldn’t say he’s ‘on the Protestant side’ particularly. I struggle to see how his presentation of Catholics - from what i remember, altho it’s been a while since i've read it - is less than fair? He directly praises more and fisher iirc. but someone with a better knowledge of the book could correct me on this point.

also, positioning that he's on the 'protestant side', alongside the next line being about his argument that cromwell was grieving, is an interesting choice. is the suggestion that if you agree with the latter your sympathies must lie with "protestantism"? that it's only through a biased lens you could reach that conclusion? sksjksjk diabolical suggestion that that's the only reason anyone might consider he mourned his wife. like am i going insane or is it genuinely what she's saying??… i cant see why she'd juxtapose those specific points otherwise. Like critiquing mantel's comments about catholics and their presentation in wolf hall is fair enough, but connecting that with the fact she wrote cromwell as 'heartbroken' and that he loved his wife, comes across to me as though she's suggesting the former should invalidate mantel's interpretation of the latter. which again i dont think is fair based on the evidence we do have..

I would also question (because it is confusing to me) despite the fact that MacCulloch and Mantel were friends, why the “”””””happy marriage”””””” across both works is the way in here??? like why are you so bothered as to both lead and finish the article with that?

(And, frankly, MacCulloch paints a picture of a happier marriage - he writes that the simplest explanation is, ‘he couldn’t bear to marry anyone else’ - than Mantel does. Who presents their relationship as literally (as in, textually), ‘loves’ but not ‘in love’. and has him actively wanting to remarry. she had a line in TMATL that goes he was ‘mostly faithful’ which? I’m not sure if she meant to imply infidelity but… altho she did present a picture of him missing her i guess)

[roses-and-tears]

.

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!? WC this chap- 11.5k (longestt)

Warnings- WOW this chap has it all, heed the warnings - filming porn masturbation ( m) oral (m and f receiving) spit kink HIGH KEY, mentions of cum, multiple rounds, switching positions, size kink, swallowing (M and F) explicit sex, feral Gojo, squirting, mating press, tummy bulges, lots of fucking goddamn- Gojo is whipped mutual pining, obsessive Gojo. Angsty asf in places, lots of jealousy

A/N- Taglist closed- This was so smut filled I took MULTIPLE breaks aha, maybe my most smut filled one ever? don't read in public actually - please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Two - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Four>>>

Chapter Three

You can’t escape the desire you have, even in your dreams.

Waking up cumming was not just new, it was ridiculous, and you didn’t even know that happened until this morning. Waking up with your cunt throbbing around nothing, and gushing arousal, as your dream was filled with Satoru kissing you, fucking into you with that thick, huge cock, hitting spots deep inside that felt real even in your dreams.

That’s it, sweetheart, cum all around my cock, hmm? Lemme feel her- there you go, baby.

That had done too much to your sleeping brain apparently, because you couldn’t stop cumming either, crying out and whining when you’d touched your cunt and felt the slick coating everything. After shaking violently from it, you’d peeked and seen a good morning text from him, all while you had to go get cleaned up, trying to compose yourself before you texted back.

Jenna calls now, shaking you out of your reverie, and the two of you plan lunch the next day. “You’re having dinner with him?”

“Yeah, but as a… friend?”

“Oh baby, you’re too cute.” You sigh, leaning back as you stir up some dough for cookies you were baking later, the sunlight filtering in through the little kitchen window you have open wide. You peer out into the sky, thinking it’s not as pretty as Satoru’s eyes.

“I do really feel things, but Jenna I can’t not be near him, if it’s as a friend, then it’s as a friend.” Jenna sighs louder than you did. “Are we having a sighing contest?”

“I’ll win any loud moan contest, but your sighs are cuter.”

“Jenna!”

You both laugh then, and a beep sounds on your phones. “Ah, looks like he’s going to stream. Gonna go watch your friend?”

“You’re an instigator. Maybe.” She giggles again, as you finish preheating the oven, scooping the dough onto the parchment paper.

“Be careful, you’re a grown woman, and things change, but don’t forget yourself, okay?” You pause then, emotions catching in your throat at her words. “I’m not trying to be the ‘mom’ I swear.”

“I know, Jenna. I love you, see you soon?” You end the call after she says goodbye, popping the cookies in the oven and turning them on. You set up your laptop, deciding to do some work for the weekend on a project your friend hired you for, but the temptation of seeing Satoru keeps nagging at your mind.

The man certainly has a pretty cock, but you think it’s the way he looks at the camera that fucks you up, it’s probably why he’s so good at it, his job. And he clearly enjoyed it, even though you know he was having a little difficulty with the last shoot, perhaps he prefers solo lately? To think you had anything to do with that was foolish, so you wouldn’t allow the thought.

The timer beeps, you stand up and stretch, turning off the timer and oven then, grabbing a bright red oven mitt and pulling out the sheet pan, smelling delectable, the steam hot and rising, scent filling your nostrils. You loved to bake, especially when you were stressed, and you suppose you were, having feelings for a man currently stroking his cock for the camera was conflicting at best.

You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s not feelings, that you’re inexperienced and confused, but you know you’re lying to yourself. You eye that silver laptop again, remembering the last time, the image of him sucking his own cum off his fingers is burned deep, a core memory at this fucking point. You shake it off, then sigh, giving into temptation.

You’d just tip him a hundred again to be supportive, you tip Jenna all the time, it’s fine, it’s something a friend can do.

Right?

You log in to the onlyfans platform, the black and blue OF making you just a bit nervous, clicking on the stream then, taking several breaths as you click on it. Fully prepared to be soaking wet, the sight that greets you is not Satoru stroking his cock, it’s another woman, her thighs spread, while Satoru runs circles on her clit. She’s propped on his lap, her head against his bare collarbones, moaning.

Your heart shatters then, and it shouldn’t, no you’re so stupid!

You are Satoru’s friend, and it was your choice to check his stream, to tip and be supportive but ultimately you know what you potentially signed up for. You saw him with Jenna, and for whatever reason that had not bothered you- maybe because it was before he touched you, looked at you like that.

The girl in front of him has two of his fingers shoved deep as he has her feet propped up on his thighs while you blink away stupid tears that shouldn’t exist, there’s no anger but there’s so much jealousy you shock yourself. You’re a girl’s girl, you’re supportive, what is this!? You’d like to rip her right off his lap, and you hate yourself for it right now.

You shake it off, looking away as the cookies fill your home with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate. It should be a cheery morning, but you can’t even focus on anything but the conflict in your heart. You stare back again, hearing Satoru’s soft, husky voice, watching all the comments in the chat while he grips one of her breasts in his big hand.

Her head falls forward, and the way you vividly imagine it being you instead has you heating up, in more ways than excitement, embarrassment - you’d never be that girl for him, you wish you could be that way. But Satoru and you together felt too special, especially to share, how could you fall when this was your idea!?

You can’t be upset.

You take a breath, shutting your eyes and looking away as his voice resonates through the laptop’s speakers, echoicing in the quiet. If you were crazy enough you’d say it sounded different than with you, that he let go more, that you were even wetter when he touched you, but you’re starting to think you’re delusional.

“So, we wanna hit this spot right here, for any men watching, you’re gonna curl up here, that spot feels good, doesn’t it honey?” Your jaw sets, swiping tears from under your glasses now.

“Ah, y-yes Gojo!” Her moan echoes too much, he pauses then, the squelching of her cunt stops, it’s all quiet as he just stares at the camera like he’s staring at you, his lips parted, eyes widening just a bit, but there’s no way.

You’ve lost it.

You tip him the hundred as you’d intended to, quickly shutting your laptop and damn near hyperventilating. What’s wrong with you!? His job is to fuck women, so you saw him touching one, what do you expect? The man had a gang bang scene just yesterday, and dinner with you tonight. You have to shove it all down then, you have to remember what he does.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t special though, for you.

Did he do things off camera with-

Stop it!

The phone rings a few minutes later and you just stare at it, lost in your own head, wishing you could compartmentalize it so much better, that you could separate the two. You were so stupid for engaging and knowing, but at the same time, to not have Satoru seems like something you can’t compute, even if it is just as a friend, even if you can’t be sexual.

Maybe you read it all wrong, that night.

Satoru calls again, shaking out his hand as his co star is now fucking herself quite expertly on a dildo, since Satoru can’t get hard for anything - it’s worse today than yesterday - he decided to turn it into a guided masturbation video. At least his fucking fingers still work, despite jerking off to you so much his cock is raw, remembering your lips surrounding it.

Even fingering her he’s picturing your pussy, fuck he wants to just bury his face in it again, he knows the two of you are ‘friends’ or whatever the fuck this was, but it’s exceedingly difficult when it’s affecting him like this. He keeps wondering if you all sleep together, will it make it worse or better? Was he all in his head, as if you would go for someone like him if he did date.

What was he thinking lately?

He saw your name in the stream and his stomach had dropped - and why, you’re just a friend, it was fine if you wanted to see a bit of a stream and tip, he knows it is to be supportive. You’re supportive and sweet, so sweet, god your taste and scent still haunt him, he’s been dying to see you tonight, in any capacity, but when he saw the name he felt awful.

He only wants to fuck you, touch you, but he has a career and commitments, to get her to agree to this instead of fucking was already difficult and he was slowly losing it as his cock kept refusing to work. Even if he could get it up, he didn’t like the idea of fucking someone else at all, after the debacle of a gang bang yesterday. But even touching someone was doing nothing for him.

Now he saw you leave so quickly, and decided to gently smack his co star’s ass, smiling as he bent her over, murmuring he needs a break. She eagerly took over the spotlight, the opportunity was a huge one for her anyway as a smaller star. Satoru keeps staring at your picture, sighing as he notices the little reflections in your glasses, touching the screen softly.

You saw him touching someone, did you care, did it bother you-

Why is he thinking like this!?

He calls again, and you answer, much to his relief, as his hands let go of the bathroom counter he’d gripped too tightly. “Hey Satoru, sorry I popped in, I thought it was um… you…”

“Jerking off?” He finishes the sentence, leaning back against his wall and shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you did um… shoots at home. You should get back to it, why are you calling me, silly? Looks like um… you were, ah… doing… good.” You’re breaking out every voice, cursing yourself quietly, why can’t you just speak? You’re shoving it all down, trying not to cry - there’s no reason to!

“Ah, yeah I thought I’d try to teach people how to make women cum, they fail often you know.” He tries to make it light, as his stomach clenches, a sick feeling when he hears your forced laugh.

“That’s very true. Someone should give you a Nobel prize for this work.” He snorts then, as the laughter becomes a little more genuine. “No you’re amazing at that. Why not show them how?”

“You thought I was amazing, hmm?” His tone changes, cock throbbing when he just hears your sigh, picturing you vividly in his mind, while the sounds of his co-star echo, moans and squelching wetness that does nothing for him.

Didn’t he used to enjoy all of this?

“You know I thought that.” Your heart pounds, you have to remember, Satoru is amazing and just because you’re hurt, you can’t be mad or upset at him. He’s not yours in any way, even if you’re starting to wish he was. “Isn’t your co-star waiting?”

“She’s occupying herself fine. It’s not… sex…” Because I can’t get hard unless it’s you. “It’s just a tutorial.”

“Oh,” your relief shouldn’t exist, you shouldn’t care, but to hear that does make you slump over just a bit, before taking a breath. “Do you want to do dinner another day, it’s already four-”

“No, no!” Satoru panics then, since when does smooth pornstar Satoru freak the fuck out and act desperate? “I mean, no. I want to see you tonight. I have time to shower and get there.”

He wants to wash any of this girl off, frantically actually, he wants you all over him, even if it’s just him pleasing you more. But moreso, even if you just wanted to have dinner and that was it, he’d be happy, though the thought of fucking you with his fingers while you eat dessert is insanely tempting, making his tip drool precum quite annoyingly as he glares in the mirror.

“Okay good, I was looking forward to it.” Your whisper is soft and genuine, as he sees the red on his cheeks, the black pupils, just thinking of you shifts his entire face.

Fuck.

“I’ll start getting ready, I think it’s time you see I can get dressed up.” You tease softly, swiping stupid tears and trying to plaster a bright smile on your face as you stare in your mirror. Your eyes are puffy, the color drained from your face, lips trembling - just seeing that has affected your entire face, taking off your glasses so you don’t even have to look at yourself for a moment.

“I bet you’re gonna kill me, you look so pretty any time I see you,” his voice is hoarse, as he spills the vulnerable truth, and the two of you shut your eyes, leaning against your bathroom counters. “But I’m excited to see you dolled up.”

“Are you, Satoru?” You try to hide the insecurities haunting you, hearing his sexy, heavy sigh on the other line.

“Very excited. I’ll see you soon, sweets.”

The two of you hang up and you sigh, eyeing the clock now - you have about two hours to get ready, and you’re so nervous your palms are sweaty and numb. It may just be two ‘friends’ having dinner, but you want to shove that image back you just saw, and focus, and try to look beautiful tonight.

Satoru’s own hands are numb, as he curses, slamming a hand on his forehead, unable to think of anything but you, barely able to pull himself together. When he walks out, Suguru is there, nibbling in the kitchen, raising a brow at him. “You good, Satoru?”

“Fine, I… you wanna finish that for me?” He gestures to the room, while Suguru sips down water. “I think I have a kind of date or something.”

“A date!? Huh?” Satoru just looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t think it’s a date, it’s friends or something? Maybe... I don’t know. Is dinner a date if it's not with a costar?” Suguru rolls his violet eyes, sighing as he washes his hands now, patting them dry with a paper towel.

“You’re acting weird as fuck lately, that cute little good girl got you simping?” Satoru scoffs, rolling his blue eyes now.

“Suguru, just do me a solid.” Satoru pouts, earning Suguru’s scoff.

“Fine, fine, but you owe me one.” Suguru and Satoru enter the room, as Satoru eases the transition, the notes in the chat are going insane, he can’t help but exhale in relief, before pausing at the thought.

Was there some way to save his malfunctioning dick?

*****

Satoru whistles when he meets you at the restaurant that evening, running just a little late, you're sitting there nibbling on your thumb, peering at the menu when he arrives. Your eyes light up behind a different pair of glasses, these have cute red rims, matching the red dress you're wearing that's making him ache.

He hasn't seen you in something like this, not that you weren't always pretty, but when you stand up and he sees how it fits your body it almost takes him everything to hold back. Vividly picturing bending you right over that table and fucking you in front of the entire restaurant, gripping the red shimmery fabric that drapes across every line and curve of that body.

He can't form a word, notoriously known for never shutting up, but he can't think of anything to say, when you shyly look down, hands fidgeting in front of your lap, and he’s standing there sputtering. It’s awkward even, until the waitress comes up and smiles over at Satoru, gesturing to a seat, saying - ‘This must be the friend you were waiting for!’

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, you look beautiful.” He says finally, pressing a kiss to your cheek, feeling it heat up against his lips. You shake your head with a sweet turn of your lips, kissing his cheek in turn.

“You’re fine, Satoru, I still haven’t learned LA time.” He chuckles at that just a bit, sitting across from you now, before deciding to sit next to you instead, shoulders brushing together.

“This feels more comfy? It feels all formal the other way.”

“Does it feel too… date like?” He falters then, because that was not it, but the doubt has crept in on your face, when the waitress asks you all for your order, and he has to blink back the confusion. “What do you suggest?”

“Want me to order for you?” You nod shyly, god the submissive nature of you makes him ache in way too many ways, knowing how perfect of a girl you’d be for him in every aspect. “We’ll have this,” he says, pointing to the menu now. “And bring two glasses of champagne please.”

“Are we celebrating?” You tease, handing the waitress the menu, Satoru chuckles a bit, shaking his head while you take in how handsome he looks, brushing your fingers against his suit jacket. “You look so good, Satoru.”

“Thank you, sweets.” He holds your hand then, fuck it feels too good, pressing it against the dark red suit jacket that truly only he could pull off, black button down shirt left open, showing enough of his chest to make anyone die over. Your eyes look at it now, a few of the chains he wears resting along the strong muscles, settling between his collarbones. “You’re making me look bad, wearing in that dress.”’

“No way!”

“Absolutely, you are. You’re so pretty, fuck…” He’s brushing back a tendril, as you eye him, that look that drives him insane, the look that’s ruined him since he met you. He tries to smirk, to act calm, teasing, “I look that good?”

“Yes, shit. Sorry.” He laughs softly, shaking his head when you pull your hand back gently.

“We match, great minds you know.”

“Indeed, we clearly coordinated telepathically!” He laughs then, and it's just like that first night, when you and him just hit it the fuck off. It’s comfortable, it’s fun - so fun - that people smile at the two of you, as you laugh like friends for years. It’s how it feels, like you’ve known him, a way you can’t explain.

But you wished it was just the friendliness, not the heat in your tummy when he wipes a droplet of clear, bubbly champagne from his plump lips, if every time his thigh brushed yours you didn’t melt. Someone comes up then, a really pretty girl, and you feel Satoru stiffen a bit, making you tense, sipping on the tart champagne and averting your eyes a bit.

“Gojo, it's been what, a year?!” He smiles with ease, standing and kissing her cheek, hugging her tightly.

“It has been, shit, how you been?” It’s all very Hollywood, their exchange, you feel you’ll never figure it out, the two years you’ve been here after relocating and you still couldn’t get being kissy on everyone.

It makes you think of him earlier, his fingers in that-

Stop that!

He’s saying your name you errantly realize, you plaster on a smile as she looks at you curiously, eyeing you up and down. “Co-star?”

“No, no, she’s my friend. She’s a good girl.” He winks down at you, and she giggles then, holding her hand out.

“It’s awesome to meet you!”

“You too. Are you um…”

“A former co-star, yeah. Satoru is the best in the industry.” Ah, so she fucked him, too. You want to be petty and scowl and you hate yourself for it more.

You never, ever are like this.

You never have been.

She’s touching his shoulder and making you sick, when your eyes catch a familiar face, a man standing with a group of other men, smiling over at you, he’s one of your co-workers that is always working. You wave at him while Satoru finishes his conversation, and he adjusts his tan jacket, touching the arm of one of the men, letting them go as he walks to you.

You tense just a bit, while the girl finally leaves, and Satoru’s sitting next to you once more, as his phone rings. He turns it off, jaw tensing when a blond man takes your hand and bends down at the waist, like some old school gentleman, pressing a kiss to the back of your delicate wrist, the pretty bracelet slides down your arm as he does it, and he watches your blush.

The fuck.

He was trying his best to get that girl to go on, so he could get back to talking to you, but now some random guy has your attention, and Satoru doesn’t like it, not one fucking bit. “Nanami, this is Satoru.”

“Nanami, huh?” He leans back, flipping off his phone again, you look at him curiously.

“Need to grab that?” You ask, and he shakes his head, swiping it off once more, ignoring his manager while this Nanami guy eyes you behind green glasses.

“You look stunning, is that alright to say?” You giggle again, Satoru glares at you, how dare you giggle at him!?

He told you that you looked beautiful. Did you giggle?

He wants to punch this smirking man in the face.

What’s wrong with him!?

“Thank you, Nanami, I guess you don’t see me too dressed up at work, huh? You always dress so well.”

“Oh stop, you’re flattering me. And this is your…” He trails off, looking at Gojo, who has to wipe the glare off his face for a moment.

Say it, Satoru.

More than a friend.

You look at him then, as if you’re waiting for him to say that, to say something, while Nanami’s lips quirk up just a bit, making Satoru want to smack him again. He takes a breath, smiling then instead of glaring, but his hand is on the small of your back. “We’ve become close friends, very quickly.”

“Oh? I’ve known her for a long time,” Nanami says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. You look at Satoru, whose phone starts ringing again, and he curses, rolling his blue eyes. “Need to take that?”

“It’s my manager, they have horrible timing. I’ll be right back.” He murmurs, you smile understandingly, while his manager trips on him about earlier.

He knows his dick doesn’t work, and now he knows he hates touching anyone, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone when he has no fucking clue why this is happening. He’s obsessed with a sweet, shy little thing that is currently getting hit on by a dude buffer than him.

Maybe he’d be good for you.

Satoru is too petty to admit it though, glaring instead while his manager goes on and on. “Listen, I get it, you need content.”

“We need you with women, a lot of your viewers are men, they’re not gonna tune in to watch you solo. Find someone that works for you, I don’t care who at this point, but we’re just not gonna make profit if you keep turning down roles. Or, I heard, you shoved a girl off on Geto.”

“I didn’t… shove her off, I just…” Satoru frowns again, the blond man is sitting next to you in the other seat, your eyes are on Satoru however they turn away when he catches your gaze.

He just wants to fuck you right in front of that fucking man now. God, if you would be interested in starring in something, you’d make bank, it’s not just his obsession, your pussy is the prettiest one he’s seen. Your tits, your body, they’re all so sexy, and your pretty face with those glasses? You’d kill any sexy nerd shoot there was.

“Satoru!”

Shit.

He can’t get the vision of you in some slutty ass librarian outfit from running through his head.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll try to get something going, I mean I was gonna do a solo tonight anyway.”

“That’s fine, but remember you’re a lot more than just Onlyfans. You’re a star, Satoru, that comes with a certain level of appearances. So whatever is going on, you gotta get it together, or we’re both not making shit.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall now, eyes going back to you, giggling at something he’s said.

He’s too close to you.

Why does he mind so much?

“I’ll get a shoot done.” The words feel horrible, the thought of fucking anyone else just seems like an impossibility, and he doesn’t know how to compute it in his mind.

What did you do?

“Alright, I expect some video with a woman - not with Suguru. Though…”

“I’m not fucking Suguru.” He chuckles as people look at him a bit, running a hand through his white locks. “He is pretty but not my type.”

“He’s gonna be your type if you turn down every other actress.”

“Ugh.”

“Mmhmm, talk to you later.” He hangs up, frowning at his phone, trying to gather himself before he does something so stupid, jealousy filling him and for what?

You’re talking. You’re not his. He had his fingers buried in a girl this morning, why does he care if you did anything? He knows you’re not that girl, though, but you choose to be with him. It makes him feel far, far more special than he’d admit, the fact that you want him, that you trust him. Was he mistaking the look in your eyes, was it just desire there?

“If you are single, would you mind a date sometime? I haven’t had so much fun talking in a long time.” Nanami says softly, making you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks from the soft lights hanging above you in the dimly lit, pretty restaurant. “Am I too bold?”

“No, no. I just haven’t been on a date in forever.” Satoru feels like he’s been punched in the chest as he hears, nearing the table and acting like he didn’t wanna yank you to him and kiss you then and there.

But he chose to tell him you’re friends, that’s what you were, a friend he wants to fuck all night in every position imaginable. Then lick his own cum out of your cunt, abused from his cock, and fuck you all morning. God he can’t stop thinking about them all, have you dragged on his face, his hands on your waist, let you ride his mouth till he couldn’t breathe.

Real fucking friendly.

Satoru’s hands grip and release while he hears your answer, “I will think about it, Mr. Nanami, it may be fun.”

That’s almost a yes.

Fuck.

“Think about what?” He asks with a smile, leaned back in the booth, a hand brushing your bare thigh under the table, where your dress had slid up from you sitting, he feels it tense while he drags his fingertips across it, eyeing you then.

Was Satoru trying to confuse you more? You look at him again, some toxic part of you that you don’t recognize wants him to claim you, what the fuck was that!? You have never been that way, you’ve never been a lot of things until you met this blue-eyed man, however, and even with a handsome Nanami flirting, you can’t get Satoru’s moans out of your mind.

Snap out of it!

“A date with your lovely friend. You two are just friends?” He looks between the two of you now, and Satoru opens his mouth, but what can he say?

It’s what you ‘are’.

Would he be worthy of dating you if he wanted to, when his job was fucking other women? You didn’t deserve that, you deserved to be the only one, fuck you literally had become his one singular, consuming thought. He smiles good naturedly, eyeing you now, watching you bite your lower lip, teeth digging into the plush of it, while your thighs tremble just a bit.

“We just met at a party a few weeks ago, but we are really close. Quickly.” He murmurs.

“Can’t see you partying.” Nanami’s hand comes to touch your other thigh, and for a girl who hasn’t had any in forever, the sensation of two big hands on your thighs is addling your mind. “No offense, darling you seem a little straight laced…” his words are trailed off with his hand squeezing gently.

Satoru scowls at him.

Is he touching you!?

Do you like it?

“I don’t party, it’s true.” You smile now, a hand over his, thumbs brushing his knuckles, while Satoru’s squeezing so hard you wince before he realizes it, letting go of his grip, but the hand staying on your knee. “I think we could go on a date sometime, as long as it doesn’t make work weird.”

“Not at all, all right I’ll leave you two to hang out then,” he stands, holding out a hand for Satoru, he squeezes the shit out of Nanami’s hand with a forced smile, only for Nanami to squeeze tighter. And fuck he’s strong. Then, he takes your hand, murmuring a - “I’ll see you at work, then,” and kissing the back of your hand. “Darling.”

Darling.

Satoru will show him darling.

You giggle, only pissing him off more, nodding shyly, fuck you’re cute even when you’ve made him furious. He’s shared women so many times he can’t count, even girls he got closer to, regular girls that you could almost say he ‘dated’ he’d still regularly bang out with his friends. He’s not possessive in general, he’s open minded and a free spirit.

Or he was!?

“Sounds good, Mr. Nanami.” He hates how you say his name, when the man in the khaki suit and dumbass cheetah tie leaves, finally. “He’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet.” You look at him then, narrowing your eyes curiously.

“You don’t like him?”

“I don’t know him. Seems boring, pretentious.” You blink in confusion, eyeing the retreating figure walking out, he even waves at you, which you return.

“He doesn’t seem like either to me. Satoru, you said we are just friends, are you worried that we won’t… do all that we do if I date someone?” Your words drop to a quiet murmur, and he sighs.

“Yes I would be very upset if I didn’t get to taste you again, why wouldn’t I be? It’d be a fuckin’ tragedy, sweetheart.” His words are too husky, when he leans against you, turning just so, his fingers slipping up your inner thigh, a side of sweet, nice Satoru you hadn’t seen yet, you almost think he looks…

He can’t be jealous.

Right?

You're delusional.

“I don’t just sleep around, so if we went on a date I wouldn’t do that. But, if I hit it off, and got serious, I wouldn’t continue our… lessons. I can only be with one person at one time.” He tenses then, is he going to lose you before he even gets you? “I don’t care if you do the same, I know it’s your job, but I couldn’t.”

“I’m not fucking anyone right now. My manager is bitching at me about it.” You tilt your head curiously, the chandelier earrings dancing in glittering prisms along your neck as you study him. “I’m having issues on set.”

“Is everything okay?” You ask, concern in your voice now, as he shakes his head. “Satoru, what's wrong?”

“I’m not in a good headspace it seems, the gang bang I failed, and I pushed the girl this morning on Suguru. So if I don’t give my manager something, they’re gonna be pissed. And no money for us if I can’t show up.”

“What’s wrong though, you seemed fine with Jenna in what I watched? Is this a new problem?” God you’re clueless to your effects, aren’t you? You touch his thigh too, instantly making his cock hard, looking down and getting flustered, he feels your heat, just making him harder. “You seem to work fine to me. Are the cameras getting too stressful?”

“I don’t know, but it really is a problem. Do you think… you could help your very handsome, amazing friend out?” You look up at him, curious.

“Help how?”

“Your good video skills, film a hot jerk off stream, good angles? Maybe that will get enough money he’ll chill some until I get over this.” You look away, the images of Satoru stroking his cock are burned in your brain. “Too much?”

“No, no. I can help, I feel I am taking up your time-”

“You’re not.” He cups your face then, turning it to him. “You’re never taking up my time, I enjoy being here. Okay?” You exhale, fuck had you been worried about that!?

How could you not know how badly he craves your presence?

“I feel bad that you’re going through this, is it the lesson?”

“The lesson did bring your taste into my mouth, and maybe no one tastes as sweet, it’s true,” his thumb brushes across your jaw line, smiling at how embarrassed you get then. “I think your taste would help me out.”

“Then, I’ll film you, but I can’t guarantee the quality.”

“It’ll be impeccable.” He raises two fingers, making your mind go to places it shouldn’t, you know another ‘lesson’ or session, or any time at all with Satoru was dangerous.

You’re teetering on the edge of feelings constantly, but you can do this, right, separate the two? He seems so good at it, at being your friend and then doing more, and you almost failed completely. You almost couldn’t say yes to Nanami because you are currently so delusional you think this star is so interested in you for more.

You have to accept him for who he is, no matter what, this was your choice to join his life at all. You take a breath now, trying to flip that switch off, the one that can’t stop thinking how much you’d love to kiss him, every minute of every day. The side that’s upset his fingers were inside someone, you have to throw her aside, and enjoy what’s here while it’s here.

He makes you question so much constantly, like every minute spent under that cerulean gaze brings out a side of you that you never knew of, some inner sexual side that only he can ignite. It’s so beautiful and special, his breath against your lips, you want to press them to yours, but so unsure, was he not about to be affectionate in public with you?

Was this just left for home?

He changes your thoughts when he kisses your forehead, far too sweet, then your cheeks, hot to the touch, down to your nose, making you giggle, relax. “You never ever waste any time.”

“I needed that.” You exhale, kissing his lips quickly as he smiles against your lips, and you pull back quickly. “I’d love to help you out.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, pretty.” His thumb brushes the slick on your upper thigh, right by your panties, watching your lashes flutter shut, as you take a shaky breath. “Come back to my place?”

“For the night or…”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Satoru’s paying the bill, signing a signature and leaving a hefty tip, then, holding out a hand for you.

“Did you drive here?” You shake your head, and he smiles, snatching up his phone now. “Perfect, I’ll have my driver take us over.”

*****

The second time coming to Satoru’s home was a little different, you were more comfortable, slipping off your heels now, he bends down to help you again, kissing your knees as he does, hands slipping up your thighs. Your hand brushes a lock of his white hair back, the unreal way you feel this comfortable, this drawn to him, makes your heart ache.

You’re so scared you’ll get hurt more, but you can’t stop yourself from being near him, from him looking at you like you’re the only fucking girl there is, are you so delusional?

Just enjoy it.

You close your eyes, sighing as he stands, kissing your lips again, easing your hand bag off your shoulder, brushing his thumbs across the mark it’s left on your shoulder. “Want another drink?”

“Yes please, if I’m going to be a porn director.” He laughs softly, shaking his head and taking off his suit jacket, laying it across the back of a chair when he pulls out the same bottle you’d sipped last time.

“You liked this one, hmm?” You nod, surprised he’d remember, taking the sweet liquid in the crystal glass, fingers brushing now. “Don’t get drunk though, I can’t have a shaky ass camera.”

“So demanding already, you really gonna make it worth my while you say?” You’re trying to tease back, like you can breathe or function in his presence, he just sighs, brushing back your hair behind your ear.

“That and more, sweetheart. We have hardly started doing things together, there is so much I can think of,” his hands slip lower, down the side of your neck, watching the goosebumps raise as he does, sighing at how perfect you look in his kitchen. “So many positions.”

“How many are there!?” He laughs now, at your embarrassed little look, pressing a boop to your nose.

“You’re endlessly adorable. Corruptible.”

“Oh!” He’s taking his own glass now, guiding you by your hand.

“Suguru’s out for the night, so we won’t get interrupted.” He’s leading you to his room, yanking off that black top, pausing as he sets up the ring light and grabs the camera, handing it to you, fingers brushing against each other. “You ready?”

“Ready,” your squeak of an answer makes him pause, taking your free hand, putting it on his bare chest as your heart hammers, trailing the hand lower to his belt and swallowing. “Need help?”

“Yes, I do.”

He needs you.

He’s desperate for you, fuck.

You’ve helped him undress, on your knees on the soft, plush carpet, when you start the stream, and he starts stroking that long, thick length right in front of you, he keeps looking at you, even when you gesture to the camera. He’s moaning, spitting on his tip, making it slicker for his big hand which still can’t come close to covering it, twisting and moving it all for you.

For his fans.

It’s hard to remember them when your cunt throbs, when you’re so overheated you can hardly stand it, and Satoru’s talking, low and hoarse. “Gonna cum so much, fuck…”

When he’s cumming you damn near do just looking, thighs pressing together for that friction, mouth fucking dry when your shaky legs nearly give out, while you come from a lower angle, reading the comments of his spurting cum, shooting up against his silvery happy trail, sticking all over, making you ache to drink it up.

“Fuck, I’ve made a mess, need someone to clean me all up.” Satoru whispers, while you barely are able to hold up the camera any longer, the livestream is avid with questions, namely - who is filming Satoru Gojo? And offers from many viewers to lick every bit of him up.

Satoru should stare at the camera, but he’s looking up into your eyes instead, stroking his cum soaked length slowly, just pumping more cum out of his tip, so much it’s ridiculous, dripped down to his balls and inner thighs. You swallow nervously, tummy clenched with desire, knowing you needed to stay quiet for the stream of curious viewers.

Satoru murmurs cut then, and  you do just that, shutting off the feed, and setting down the phone with a shaky hand, clearing your throat. “They loved it I think.”

“C’mere.” He crooks two fingers, and you eagerly obey, walking up to him now, tempting him to no end with the way your eyes drink him in. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

You obey again, eagerly in fact, looking up at him under lowered lashes as his clean hand slips up the side of your pretty neck, then around to the nape of it, entangling in your locks. Your soft whine and shift of your hips are all he needs to know you’re enjoying it, your hands obediently on your thighs, as if waiting for his every order, so sexy he feels his cock twitch back to life.

“Do you want to clean me up?” He asks softly, but the command in his tone is there, you nod and he exhales, tugging you towards him then. “Then do a really good job, sweets. Lick every bit clean like a good girl, and I’ll reward you.”

“I’ll do a good job.” Your whisper wrecks him, as he guides your head down, and you suck him, still hard, into your hot, eager mouth. Your soft whine vibrates around him, his head falling back as your mouth moves.

He can’t help but think of earlier.

A date, you were gonna go on a date, and he hates the idea, no, he fucking detests the idea in fact, the rage alone making him fuck your throat deeper, harder, feeling you gag and choke on him instead of anyone else. He shouldn’t feel possessive over his friend, a friend who’s sucking his cum, who’s swallowing him up, all he can think is his, his, his.

But you weren’t his.

How could you ever be?

Satoru’s never felt anything better than your throat, except he’s a million percent sure your cunt is better, he knows it would suck him up so greedy. When tears fall from your pretty eyes, it’s hotter than any blow job he’s had on set, the eagerness and desperate need to please far surpasses experience, your glasses fogging up when you pull back to take a breath then.

Satoru looks at his slick, spit covered cock, to thin trails of saliva disintegrating between your lips as you pull back, swiping at your lower lip. “How did I do?”

“Perfect.” His whisper is genuine, the words feel too good, you know you should stop, that you already wish he was yours, but you’re too addicted to how those blue eyes make you feel like you’re the only girl there is.

Even if it’s an illusion, a trick of your brain, or a practiced look.

The feeling is too euphoric not to be corrupted by it.

“You did such a good job, look at it, not any cum left. You sucked it all down, so greedy huh?” His hand comes under your chin, squeezing your neck gently yet so possessive, he wants to say it - his - but he knows he can’t. But it’s too easy to teeter off the edge, when your breaths come faster, breasts pressed up in that dress, rising and falling with each one.

“Satoru… I can keep going.” Your soft voice nearly ends him, little hand stroking his cock again.

“I was thinking of something, but if you don’t want to, it's okay.” You blink a bit then, tilting your head, tendrils falling against your bare shoulders.

“What is it?”

“A scene with me, but not showing your face at all,” your gasp and pull back makes him sigh. “It’d be like me eating your pussy, we could have it zoomed so no one sees your face.”

The thought, along with Satoru's sweet cum down your throat makes your tummy clench, while he brings out more and more of you that you didn't know existed. Your hands tense on his thighs now, taking a shaky breath, fingers along the downy hair on his thighs. “I don’t… Satoru you have a million options for costars-”

“I want yours. It’s the prettiest I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Satoru…”

“It is. Wanna argue about my expertise here?” You just get more flustered and flushed, looking down nervously, but he tilts your chin with his big hand, angling your gaze upward. “I’ll split all the pay, you get eaten out, and anonymously. I’d never tell anyone, I’d never risk your career or anything. But I do need to do one, and I hate the thought of it not…” Satoru trails off now, the words sinking in.

“You like eating me out that much?” Your whisper makes him chuckle then, nodding and swallowing nervously.

“That pussy is perfect. How about we film it, and you watch it, and if you don’t want to, I just keep it to jerk off to…” Shit, he said that.

He’s so desperate and pathetic.

But you flush again, surprising him with your nod.

“Shit really!?”

“We can film it for us to watch, and… I doubt I’ll be okay sharing it, but we can see if you- ah!” Satoru’s got you lifted so fast you barely can blink, unzipped and turned in moments, leaving you in the prettiest red lace lingerie that makes him groan, his fingertips trembling on your skin. “I said probably not, don’t get excited.”

“I’m excited to bury my face between your thighs again, sweetheart.” You cry out when he’s pressed you on the bed, spreading your thighs and groaning, fingers tugging at your panties.

“How can you make sure my face isn’t there?” You ask softly, he grabs the camera and the stand then, cock just swinging around, balls smacking his thighs, so used to being naked he doesn’t realize his effects. You can’t stop staring when he gets it at the perfect angle, clicking his tongue.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, viewfinder showing your pretty cunt up close, he’s almost furious to think anyone could see it like him, but his career is teetering on the brink of nothing, and if you truly were okay with it, he only sees it as a win.

You broke his dick and now he’s begging to just lick you, and split pay with you, he never thought he’d be so pathetic, but it’s no wonder, thumbing your pussy and spreading it, sighing. “Mnh!”

“So, to keep it anonymous if you decide to show this, don’t speak too personally, okay sweets?” You nod shyly, gasping as he shoves your thighs up. “Also, hold them up high, so all we’re getting is a view of your pussy.”

“Yes, sir.” You tease, but his cock starts leaking again, earning his moan.

“Don’t speak too much, to be safe, I don’t ever want you to feel like anyone would know it’s you. Speak when we’re done, though, you can absolutely moan.” You nod, so nervous, what are you doing!?

It’s as if Satoru Gojo brings something insane and wild out, because there is a thrill of your pussy on camera suddenly, and knowing he is about to worship you, potentially in front of people has your cunt drooling for him. He hits record then, angling his face so his tongue was in perfect view lapping up the arousal, exhaling now as he shoves your thighs up higher.

Perfect, you’re perfect.

“God, look at this pretty pussy,” he murmurs into the camera, parting your folds so all that syrupy arousal can pool out, he hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your red nails pressing into the plush of your thighs. His cock is already back hard, he has to stroke it and whines out as he laps you up, making you gasp.

He's slurping you then, head tilted just so the camera can see, smacking your clit gently, watching you jerk, pressing your thighs up higher and tilting the camera so it's higher, right over his head, looking at it and the reflection of your perfect cunt while he slips the tip of his tongue up. You're moaning at the sensations, twitching hips bringing your cunt more in his face.

Satoru can't stand it, how good you taste, he wondered if it was an illusion but no, you are the sweetest thing he's ever had. “You're so wet, god, take a look…” he's fingering you now, and you hear it while he watches it, glimmering from the soft ring light glowing on your perfect pussy. Making him so dumb he's just burying his face then, forgetting he's filming.

“Mnh!” You're trying not to call out his name, thighs still so high you can't see his face, to protect you from getting seen, until he adjusts it, spreading your thighs further, leaning up to look down at you under lidded eyes, chin coated in your slick. “Satoru…”

“You okay sweets?” His whisper touches you, his concern for you even during this, making sure you're okay. You nod and he exhales in relief, kissing you for a moment, knowing it's what you need, brushing your hair back, sighing as he looks down at you. “You're doing so good. Can you cum for me, baby?”

You nod again eagerly, and he’s dived back down, fingering you with two curled right in your cunt, hitting that spot that blinds you every time, his moans so filthy, guttural while he watches, angling his wrist and hitting something then, you feel so much pressure you panic, gasping, writhing under him.

“Oh my - ngh! Fuck!” You’re struggling to keep your voice a whisper, palming your mouth while you shatter.

“That’s it, right there, cum for me, lemme drink it up. Let everyone see how much you love my fucking tongue.” Pornstar Satoru was ridiculous to handle, hitting you with his fingers and the tip of his tongue on your clit, when the pressure releases, and your orgasm hits so hard you can’t help but scream, twitching as he pulls back in surprise. “Fuck, you’re squirting f’me?”

You have no clue what he means, you don’t see it as it starts pouring all over, making a mess, wet spot under you even as Satoru grabs you by the fat of your ass, licking up as much as he can. You’re a twitching, soaked little mess, your hands gripping his hair now, screams echoing in the room while he eases off you just a bit now, ready to fuck your slick, messy cunt.

He trembles as he pulls back and does one more shot, pressing a sweet kiss to your pussy before shutting off the camera, and leaning up, kissing you, so desperate, while your slick thighs rub together, and you feel the mess. He pulls up and takes a breath, flipping you then, making you gasp, handing you the camera while he kisses the backs of your shoulders, hands on your ass, spreading it wide.

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing across your shoulder blades, brushing your hair to one side while you barely have the strength to press play, and that’s when you see it. “Look how perfect you are.”

Your pussy right on camera, and him eyeing it like he’s worshipping it, like you’re his fucking altar and his mouth is that offering. Your cunt starts throbbing while he works you, kissing every inch of your body as you fall more and more into the abyss of sin, of lust, of desire- of Satoru Gojo.

“You love it, don’t you baby?” His words are hot against your ear, while you watch him on the screen licking your cunt, watch your thighs tremble, all while he’s behind you, sinking his two fingers so deep in your quivering hole again. You arch your back, moaning now, it feels so good you can’t stand it, so erotic watching this video you two took, while he’s fucking you with his thick fingers.

“I do, but it’s insane… ah! Satoru…” He sighs now, taking his fingers out, pressing them into your mouth for you to suck, which you quickly obey, eyes fluttering shut, the image of his tongue fucking you reflecting in the darkness.

“Keep it for us, or share? It’s all up to you. I’ll never pressure you either way,” he’s soft then, turning your chin as he lays heavy weight over you, and you eye the phone now, hand shaking just a bit, to close it out or to share, he takes your hand, steadying it. “It’s fine to be how you are, you’re perfect, okay?”

“It’s fine to be how you are, Satoru Gojo. A… question, though.” He sighs, leaning close, while he keeps holding your hand, hovering just so.

“Mmhmm?”

“Would I be your favorite co-star?” Your teasing question makes him laugh at the ridiculous nature.

You’re the only one he can even get hard for.

“You’re the prettiest, yummiest, sweetest co star I could have,” his words are just a little broken, as he almost says more. That he hopes your date sucks with that Nanami guy, that he’s planning to show up at your work tomorrow to glare at that man, that he’s become fucking obsessed, but instead - “How could you think you’re not?”

“And we’re… still friends…” You ache for him to say - no, it’s more - but he nods, against your neck, pressing kisses against it. “Even if we fuck?”

God.

He’s dying.

“You think I wouldn’t be your friend anymore? I’m not the guy to get what he wants and go. I promise.” You nod then, smiling just a bit, and tap the share button then, surprising both of you.

“Holy fuck, I did that…” Your whisper is met with Satoru’s kisses now, as your video plays for all to see, your moans on camera mixing with the ones induced from his play, one arm wrapping your body as his cock presses insistently against your ass, hot and heavy.

“Stop me now, because I can’t think of anything but fucking your pretty pussy raw right now,” his desperate words and dilated eyes just serve to ruin you, when you arch your ass up. “Fuck, you sure?”

“I want you inside me, please,” he eagerly leans back, gripping his cock and lifting your thigh, pressing into your tight ring of muscles, almost cumming from the fucking tip. “Ah!”

“You’re so tight, relax I don’t want to hurt you, please.” Satoru whispers it as he grips your chin.

You nod, as he is slipping a little deeper from the back, the stretch burning so deliciously, you’re convulsing while the viewers are going wild over Satoru’s devoted pussy eating skills with his mysterious, faceless co-star. His silk hair brushes your cheek as he exhales heavy in your ear, whispering your name.

You eye the video, the comments, vision blurry, while he sinks his cock deeper, and he moans as he reads the comments to you, filling your cunt so full of his cock, inch by inch - and there are so many, each thrust deeper while you cling to his wrists, his arms wrapping you. He keeps reading them, even as he shoves in all the way, making you jerk and gasp.

“Perfect pussy, look at Satoru go, god she’s so wet for him, she’s cumming so much - is she squirting? Look at that, you’re a regular star, huh? F-fuck…”

“Mnh!” Your eyes roll back in your fucking skull now, lost in him, lost completely. So deeply unraveled under him you can’t remember what this is, that it’s a friend, that it was a scene, that you’re now the girl who did that, anonymous but to know it’s you on that screen with Satoru devouring you does something, fuck it does too much.

He’s murmuring more comments, and his huge cock is stretching your slick, tight heat beyond its means. “That’s it, you love it, huh? They all want to be in your place, or they want to lick you instead, but it’s me, isn’t it baby?” He shouldn’t be possessive, he tries to tell himself it over and over, but how can he not be, when he’s shoved in so deep, he feels the bulge of your tummy, groaning. “Feel me, sweetheart?”

You can’t speak, just nodding desperately, while the feed goes insane, watching your cunt squirt on Satoru’s face while he’s buried inside you, filling you to the hilt, stretching you out so good you forget to breathe. “Toru!”

He pauses at the nickname, your slurred words and pulsing cunt ending him, he could almost cum then and there and he has amazing stamina, but he has to hold back, wrapping a hand around your throat and leaning up on an elbow while you gush down his cock. Satoru kisses up your neck hungrily, eyeing your pussy on the video and then your face, your eyes almost black with pleasure.

“Only I can hit that spot, hmm?” His tip drags along your spongy spot now, and you’re twitching, nodding, so consumed as he surrounds you, breath against your neck, moans in your ear, hand squeezing your throat just so under your chin. His cock twitches as he shoves deeper, impossibly deeper, while you helplessly grip the blankets beneath you. “Answer me, like a good girl.”

“Y-yes.” Your whisper drives him insane, feral, the way your walls quiver around his cock is exquisite, that grip unreal, but more than anything it feels perfect.

“Made for this cock, aren’t you pretty?” The words fall out before he can stop them, and your eyes rolling back, drool spilling out of your mouth while your cunt is pulsing is his answer. “Perfect, fuck…”

“Mnh!” You can’t take it, his words urging you when he shoves his cock so deep, the tip bruising your cervix, making you scream as his guttural moan fills the room, his hand squeezing just enough pressure to make your orgasm blinding, white hot.

“Cumming all over me, so good, listening f’me, hmm?” You just nod weakly, gasping when he flips you to your back, lifting your thighs and shoving them wide, slapping the tip on your slick cunt and groaning. “Wanna watch me fill you up?”

You nervously nod, swallowing now, and he sees it, you’re overwhelmed, he leans down, kissing you, and you’re desperately clinging to his back, eagerly kissing him despite being damn near slack jawed. You exhale nervously, eyeing him is even more intimate, impossibly more, his plush lips still tasting like your honeyed arousal from earlier.

“If it’s too much, tell me, I want you comfortable.” It’s hard for him to speak, but he does, making sure to reassure you, kissing your forehead before he leans back.

“It’s intense, Satoru but… I want it.” He moans at that, sliding his cock back inside, sucking in a breath when you’re gripping him fucking tighter this time, slipping in slowly, inch by inch. “Ah! Satoru, so d-deep!”

“I am, huh? I can get deeper, baby.” You cry out when he shoves his cock in deep with a sharp thrust, and then pauses, eyeing that bulge in your stomach. “Look.”

“Look at… oh.” You’re heating up at the image, and he’s all about angles, he makes sure your eyes catch every bit of his slow thrusts, filling your tummy full of his enormous cock, too much to take, but your cunt is willing and eager, struggling to take his size.

“Fucking you so deep, see it? Your body is so small compared to my cock, pussy stretched too much, f-fuck… god look at you…” He’s losing it, he was trying to talk sexy to you, which comes naturally, but now he’s just obsessed with the image, thin white brows lowering over his eyes, while he slams inside you, your thighs trembling as they wrap his slutty waist. “Oh my god…”

“Satoru… ah!” He’s done, he’s fucking lost in you, in your eyes when he shoves your thighs up, gripping your face with his huge hands while he’s got you bent in half, slamming so hard you scream. “Too much!”

“I need all of you, fuck… can you take more?” His eyes are so bright blue they burn to look at, but you can’t stop yourself, nodding and cupping his face in return.

“Kiss me please.” He moans at that, slamming his lips down when he rocks his hips, cock filling you so deeply you scream into his mouth, hands slipping to his hair while he’s got his heavy weight over you.

“I can’t control it anymore, baby, if it’s too much just fucking hit me at this point,” he’s nonsensical, leaning up now, hands on the back of your thighs in a mating press, fucking you hard now, powerful strokes that take you the fuck out, cumming in moments with a few strokes, making him whimper.

That’s a sound you know he’s never made.

You may be delusional, but you’re sure you’ve only heard him whimper for you, you’ve never seen that look in his eyes on any video or stream, not when he’s staring right into your fucking soul and slamming his cock deep over and over. You’re barely able to cling to the earth, so much pleasure rushing through your body, you feel every vein and ridge of that huge cock as it fucks into you.

“Perfect, pussy is perfect, fucking knew it but god. God… fucking feel her,” he slams into you again, head falling back, giving you a view of his throat before he eyes you once more, shaking his head and slamming his cock harder. “Can she take it?”

You just nod, you’d take anything, the way it feels to be ruined by Satoru Gojo is far beyond his balls slapping your ass, his cock stretching your cunt, his hands bruising your fucking thighs, no it was more. You want to be filled by him, folded under him, you want every bit of it, losing yourself in him, in his bright blue eyes, in his filthy fucking words, in his cock slamming your cervix.

You were ruined, and you knew it.

You feel too much, far too much, when he’s leaned back, holding your thighs high and watching his cock pull out and enter, slowing and rubbing your abused clit. “F-fuck, cum one more time, I’m close… your cunt is so fucking perfect, shit… c’mon, like a good girl, there you go baby…”

It’s like that goddamn dream.

Word for word.

You cum harder than you have, when he shoves into the hilt, stuffing your slutty little hole, blinded and dizzy, hardly able to breathe, while he watches you shatter under him, so fucking beautiful he can’t take it. Your brows drawn together, that sweat making your skin glisten, your mouth open in the sluttiest O, he can hardly stand what the image does to him.

He knows it then, he’s fucking beyond destroyed, and terrified at that fact, at the power you’re oblivious to over him. He almost busts inside you, something he has never done - he doesn’t even go without condoms - the thoughts of filling your cunt full are far, far too tempting. He stops himself, cursing and holding his slick cock at the base while you’re spasming around him, back arching.

“Where do you want all this cum, sweetheart?” He manages to ask, you’re so fucked out you’re dizzy, blinking Satoru’s white hair and pretty face into view as he pulses inside you, just thickening and making you whimper.

“W-what… where… you want, I… mnh!” You’re still cumming, aftershocks rocking you, making your skin so sensitive when he eases your sore thighs down, parting them and pulling out finally, stroking himself as you catch your breath, watching him spurt thick white ropes all over your cunt. “Oh! Oh…”

“Fuck, fuck… god… oh my…” He’s moaning as he’s desperately jerking his slick cock, so much cum it seems impossible, since he just busted so much, and you watch him, enthralled as the hot sticky sperm is coating your cunt. “God, look at it, fucking look at us baby.”

He’s too much, he’s too much.

You thought him eating you out fucked you up mentally, what is he, his insane ass eyes bright as he trembles, strong muscles bunching and tensing, a work of fucking art pouring his cum on you. You’re stuck, at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing, brain not even functional as you look up at this man, knowing this isn’t just sex, it fucking couldn’t be.

It can’t be like this with someone.

You almost spill every feeling then and there, lost in him, in his desperation when he rests his head on yours, moaning against your lips, tip brushing your engorged clit and making you whine out. “God, your pussy is too perfect, it’s… you’re too perfect, feel too good, look too good…”

“Satoru, are you okay?” You whisper softly, he’s slurring his words, almost hard to understand in their hushed whispers in between his pants.

He can’t even answer, pulling back and looking at your pretty cunt, all abused from his cock and puffy, covered in his white ropes. “Can I have a picture? Please, just for me.”

“Y-you want one?” He laughs softly, breathless, nodding, and you heat up at it, looking down shyly. 

“Only you can be adorable with your pussy beat up and coated in cum, huh?”

“Oh god!” He can’t take it, how cute you are, the affection eating at him, as he takes a deep breath, leaning back. “Just one.”

“Fuck…” He takes the phone, eyeing the amount of comments and tips while your breasts heave, trying to catch your breath, sticky cum dripping across your folds when you shift your hips.

“What is it?” You ask softly, he shows you the number, and your eyes nearly bulge out. “Holy fuck!?”

“This is good even for me, shit. Pussy is made for porn.” You’re blushing harder, biting your lower lip when he angles the camera, taking several photos and exhaling at how pretty it looks. “God, look at you.”

“Are you talking to me or my pussy?” He grins then, so boyish and charming it’s as if he wasn’t just fucking you into a mating press and filming your cunt. “Also I said one!”

“Sorry. I’ll make it up.” He’s kissing your thighs then, lapping some of his own cum off your slit, you gasp at the sensation, his tongue on your sore, overstimulated pussy now. Your hands entangle in his hair as he groans. “Fucking taste us.”

“Satoru you’re in-insane and- mnh! Fuck!” You’re shaking when he laps more off of you, desperately lapping at every inch of your cunt now. “Satoru!”

“Gotta clean my pretty costar up, she’s only my costar you know, only one I’ve ever-” He pauses, stopping himself, when you eye him, breasts still gently moving up and down as you eye him.

“Only one you’ve… ngh! Satoru!”

“Taste us.” He’s lapped more of his cum and yours, murmuring for you to open, which you eagerly do, letting him spit his cum and yours in your throat. “Swallow, there you go, see it’s perfect, huh?”

You’re lost then, in the filthy string of words, when he’s back down cleaning you up with a tongue that’s lethal in its precision, rocking his cock on the bed, hard for the third time with you as he moans desperately against you. He’s latched onto your clit, sucking, while you can’t stop cumming, pushed past overstimulation, but not once do you tell him to stop.

You want it.

You need it.

In tears from how much you’ve cum, desperate for more, swapping his cum and yours mixing, against your tongues as he talks you through it, as you lose yourself, Jenna told you not to, she told you not to forget. You are trying to keep it separated, but how the fuck can you?

It felt worth losing yourself, for him, under him, him inside you - around you - taking over everything, while he’s back inside you, his lips murmuring desperate, dirty words into your sweet mouth. When you’re so fucked out you actually pass out blissfully in his arms, you can’t even remember the girl you were a few weeks ago, waking up just to be filled by him again from behind.

Being in his arms, you hope it’ll counteract the pain when he moves on, when he’s kissing you while fucking you from the back, sweet little nothings against your lips filling the room along with the squelching of his cock filling your cunt again. Every inch of your body kissed by him, licked by him, head to your fucking toes, shifting you to some other dimension as you drink each other in, exhausted and desperate.

You’ll think about that pain later, for now it’s all pleasure, aside from the ache in your heart for more, endlessly more.

The love on this story is so sweet, it's FAR from over. Please be patient as these are long chaps and I have other projects, if you're not on the tags you can subscribe to me on ao3 or turn on notifs <3 Can't wait to hear your thoughts

Taglist 1 - @rjreins @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @gojoslovelylover @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay

[windyremedy]

B-B-BOYFRIEND!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: he wants that cookie so effing bad but reader is oblivious to it all.

clueless.

you were damn clueless about what you were so sure you wanted.

look. bakugou didn’t mean to overhear unlike other times (ehem the sports festival) but you weren’t really being quite about it. often complaining to the other girls about how you’re looking for a boyfriend, how you want someone to be there for you yet no one seems interested.

mina in particular would glance over where he sat, laughing at your obliviousness. pointing out your blindness to the fact that someone IS interested but you waved it off like a fool as if he doesn’t cook your favorite food each time when he’s assigned dinner duty, as if he doesn’t walk by the road so you’re on the safer side, as if he doesn’t let you ramble whatever it is you wanted to talk about listening genuinely and how if it were anyone else he’d walk away without a second thought. yet you can’t see all the lengths he’s going through just to show you how capable he is to fulfill that role.

it’s getting to the point where he thinks you don’t like him specifically because how can you not get it? are you avoiding him by pretending not to know on purpose to lightly let him down?

fuck, he even talked about his situation with his self proclaimed friends and they all told him to just fess up to you but damn it do you make him feel like a fool himself.

“dude why don’t you ask her yourself?” sero genuinely asked, wondering why his strong headed friend who doesn’t hesitate in the face of danger become so suddenly hesitant when it came to you.

“yeah! be a manly man and just do it.” the red headed boy spoke all fired up, patting the unshaken boy on the back whose face never seemed to cease from its frown.

“what? don’t tell me you’re scared kacchan?” kaminari teased and for what’s probably the hundredth time he got blown up by bakugou’s quirk, again, he really never learns his lesson.

so when the end of the year party eventually comes up you find yourself cornered by the explosive boy. dragged firmly away from the crowd of your peers, looking at you with angered brows and an upset pout. you supposed he tried to look indifferent and unaffected but he looked like anything but.

“what’s up bakugou?” you asked smiling up at his sharp expression.

“you’re blind as fuck.”

“what the— not even a hello???” you asked incredulously at his unprompted comment.

“shit. okay wait, let me think. you are unaware of things you should be aware of.”

…blink…..blink...blink

“is this about the homework I totally failed? I told you not to bring it up bakubro—“

“no and don’t call me that!” he shouted, popping a red vein.

“why??!”

“because I don’t want to be your ‘bro’”

“what. you don’t want to be friends anymore?” you wobbly asked, eyes watering like that one emoji you always fucking send him. for instance,

messages

you: can you help me prepare for the test plz

katkat: where

you: wait actually I just remembered you and kiri were gonna study together

katkat: we’re not

you: I heard you two plan it after class?

katkat: he planned it

you: can you ask kiri if I could join then 🥹

katkat: no because I’m coming to your room, get your shit ready.

you: so no kirishima? (➤)

you: so (➤)

you: kk pal!

katkat: don’t call me that.

messages

katkat: mina saw you.

katkat: said you looked upset or something.

you: no I’m fine!!!

you: totally not crying over being stood up or whatever. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

katkat: that business class hataro shitsuko was a loser anyway.

you: it’s shizuku lol

katkat: just come over.

you: wait how did you know who (➤)

you: wait (➤)

you: wa (➤)

you: okay bae

messages

katkat <3: I’m not getting you that mochi

you: please I want you

katkat <3: what?

you: to get it for me PLEASSSEEEE 🥹 🥹

katkat <3: …

katkat <3: fine.

you: yayyyyyyyy

you: I want a specific flavor though.

katkat <3: I know what it is dumbass, I’ll see you later.

you: can you look for (➤)

you: THANK YOU!!

and many more but none of that ever clicked in your mind and so here you two were.

“no I want to be more than that.” he spoke seriously, red eyes set firmly on yours.

“don’t tell me….” you looked to the side shedding a tear as you leaned behind the wall further.

finally you understood.

“you want to be best fri—“

“FUCK NO! WE’RE NOT DOING THAT SHIT SO I’M JUST GONNA SAY IT.” he exasperatedly yelled, grabbing both your shoulders. breathing in once and out he spoke loud and clear, the feelings he held close and dear.

“I WANT YOU, YOU DAMN IDIOT! LET ME BE YOUR BOYFRIEND!!!”

“what?” you stared at him all startled and wide eyed as your mouth pulled downwards and eyes squinted to tears as you began to cry.

“what the— why are you crying!? do you hate me that bad?” bakugou asked hiding his hurt by wiping your tears away with his thumb as he gently held your face.

“no I want you too!!!! I just never thought you felt that way about me.” you whined planting your face in his chest.

“yeah no shit.”

“what?” you asked, slightly pulling away.

“nothing.” he answered shoving your face back in his body with one hand, relived that you actually felt the same way all this time.

inspo: “don't be scared to come put your trust in me can't you see all I really want to be is your boyfriend.” — Big Time Rush

©windyremedy

[sixeyesonathiel]

what happens when the strongest sorcerer, satoru gojo, meets your strongest period mood swings?

a/n: i teared up writing this. i wish men—real, emotionally available, period-bath-running boyfriends—were real.

you don’t know why you’re crying. again. maybe because the blanket slipped off your shoulder or because the strawberries he cut for you weren’t sweet enough or because the stupid commercial on tv had a puppy in it. whatever the reason, your bottom lip wobbles and you sniffle, clutching the heat pack tighter against your abdomen.

satoru is there in a heartbeat. not because he knows what to do—oh no, he’s scrambling. since this morning when you woke up groaning like a medieval knight struck down in battle, he’s been in full red-alert panic mode. he googled “how to handle girlfriend on period” three times, made a list, burned it, then cried a little in the hallway before gathering the courage to come back in. he even called shoko for backup, only to be met with unhelpful laughter and a “good luck, loverboy.”

now he’s crouched in front of the couch like he’s about to disarm a bomb, blue eyes wide behind his stupidly expensive sunglasses that are now pushed messily into his silvery hair. his lips are pursed like he’s concentrating very hard, but the little twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays his anxiety.

“operation: spoiled princess is officially in action,” he declares, voice light but eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read the weather. his large hands cradle your cheeks with a gentleness that doesn’t match his usual chaos, thumbs brushing under your eyes like he can physically wipe the emotion away. “what’s wrong, baby? want me to punch the strawberries? i’ll do it. don’t test me.”

your nose scrunches, and despite the tears welling again, a soggy laugh escapes you. “you’re so dumb.”

“and yet so handsome. it’s really unfair to everyone else,” he sighs dramatically. his long legs fold awkwardly as he plops down beside you, then tugs you into his lap like you’re made of glass. your face smushes against the soft cotton of his long-sleeved tee, which smells like laundry detergent and a hint of something sugary—probably from the chocolate he was sneak-eating earlier.

five seconds later, your mood shifts again.

“why would you say that?” your voice rises, sharp. you pull back, brows furrowed. “are you saying other people want you? is that it? am i just some girl to you?”

satoru freezes like someone hit pause on him. “huh? what—no! what are you talking about? i just—i meant it like—baby, no, don’t cry again—”

“i’m not crying because of you,” you snap, already blinking back tears. your arms wrap tighter around your stomach. “i just… i feel gross and my stomach hurts and i hate everyone and nothing helps.”

“okay! okay,” he says quickly, hands held up like he’s facing a wild beast. his tone drops to something soft, coaxing. he leans in, his bangs falling a little into his eyes. “you hate everyone. but not me, right? please don’t hate me, i’ll literally explode.”

you glare. “depends. did you eat the last cookie or not.”

he blinks once. twice. “…i—what? baby, this is not the time for interrogation—”

“answer the question, toru.”

“…no comment.”

you narrow your eyes, pinch his side. he yelps like a kicked puppy.

“okay! okay! i did but i didn’t know it was the last one—wait, don’t look at me like that, please, i’m too young to die—”

satoru’s voice cracks just a little, and he sounds genuinely distressed now. the kind of pitiful panic that only comes from being accused by the person he loves most. “you don’t really hate me, right?” he blurts, blinking rapidly as if he could force an answer out of you by sheer will. “like… not actually? you’re just—y’know—period mad? not ‘i want to leave you and never look back’ mad?”

you sniff, pouting at him with narrowed eyes. the silence stretches just enough to make him squirm. he fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, eyes darting from yours to the pillow, to your hand still fisted in his shirt.

“because if you did, i think i’d just crawl into the washing machine and set it to spin cycle,” he mumbles, only half joking. “you’d forget all about me, but the spin cycle wouldn’t forget.”

you break. again. this time with a teary snort of laughter. your face buries into his neck, the tip of your nose brushing his warm skin as your shoulders tremble with exhausted giggles.

he exhales like a man who’s just been handed a stay of execution. his arms wind tighter around you, holding you like he’s scared you might vanish.

“i got you chocolate,” he whispers hastily, like it’s penance. “and those terrible chips you like. and i prepped a warm bath with the glittery bomb thingy you keep hoarding. also, i may have threatened the delivery guy to get here faster. i said i was a government official. please don’t report me.”

he tries to kiss your forehead, but you shove his face away with a palm.

“you smell like cheap cologne. did you use that stupid body spray again?”

satoru reels back, wounded. “excuse me, this is top-tier scent! the internet called it ‘irresistible alpha energy.’”

“more like teenage boy in a locker room.”

“wow,” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it. his thumb rubs slow circles into your back, his gaze flicking down to your fingers still tangled in his shirt.

finally, you lift your head, your eyes glassy but no longer stormy. your features soften—still tired, but laced with reluctant affection. satoru looks at you like you hung the damn moon.

“you’re the worst,” you whisper.

his grin is crooked, too relieved to be smug. “and you still don’t hate me. noted.”

he bumps his nose against yours, then gently tugs you closer. “c’mon. bath time for my temperamental goddess. i even lit the dumb candle that smells like a bakery.”

he stands, scooping you up with more care than coordination. you press your forehead to his jaw, soaking in the familiar comfort of his scent—minus the cologne.

“your skin glows with divine light… your aura purifies the air… i am but a lowly servant in the temple of your beauty…” he chants dramatically. he slips on your fuzzy socks halfway to the bathroom and nearly eats it, but catches himself just in time, shouting your name like he’s about to perish.

even if he’s overwhelmed, mildly traumatized, and definitely confused by the chaos that is your period mood swings, satoru gojo is nothing if not yours.

[supasolaa]

pretty little baby…i’m so in love with you….

romantic reader

romantic reader with her and rafe’s baby

(not canon to romantic reader, just a blurb!<3)

while you and the baby quietly layed in the bed, rafe had been working late, you smile gently. it’s been 3 or 4 weeks since the birth of your baby girl. she was so pretty… and you both adored her. though it came with it’s challenges…waking up all night, feeding her, learning things you’d never known. and all while healing. thankfully rafe had helped as much as he could but had to go back into work this past week. it wasn’t that bad in the day, plus half of her day was napping so…then it would also be napping time for you. you were in love with her. even with all the pain it took. it was worth it. she smiled and giggled with her gummy teeth as you quietly sang, though she’d fall asleep soon.

“pretty— —little— —baby— —i’m— —so— —in— —love— —with— —youuu….” you quietly sang out though choked, you had also been as tired as her. you quietly look up as you hear rafe coming up the stairs, then coming into the room. “im home…” he quietly said, you smile softly, but she starts to cry, probably sensing her daddy already… you get up picking her up. then carrying her over to him “i think your girl missed you…” you quietly said “ i missed her too. both my girls.” he said smiling at you softly, though just as tired as you. “i’ll put her down, you can go get ready to bathe….ill be there in a moment.” nodding quietly, you hand her over then going off to the bathroom.

after a few moments, rafe came in to see you sitting down on the chair in the bathroom. he knelt down, helping you get your clothes off. “she trouble you that much, today..?” he gently asked taking off your bra. “not that much…we were sleeping a lot…” you quietly said tired. he knew you were tired, probably didn’t want to talk. so he didn’t. not making you talk either. he gently pulled you up to walk, leading you to the tub. he layed you in carefully, starting to wet you softly. “not too hot…cold?” quietly humming, he’d understand that it was fine. you’d say something if it was.

once getting out and getting you into pj’s. doing your routine for you, just as you usually would…she started crying again, thankfully he’d take over but… he couldn’t find out what was wrong with her. well until you later in the bed next to her. and it was okay again once more. “ im going to go take a shower alright, love?” you nodded, starting to drift back to sleep once more. when he came back, he tucked you under the blankets gently kissing you. the baby coos in her sleep as he picked her up, placing her into the crib. you slightly wake up as rafe gets into bed. “go back to sleep my love.”

[tipsywithintent]

ˋ°ꕥ Why Me? ꕥˋ°

°• Pairing: timeskip!Miya Atsumu × Reader

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You always knew Atsumu had a type.

You saw it back in high school - the way he’d get distracted by girls with long legs, dramatic lashes, and confident laughs that echoed through the hallway. He didn’t even hide it. If someone called him out, he’d grin and go, “What? I ain’t blind.”

You weren’t like them. Not then, not now.

Even now, years later, with you curled up on the corner of his couch in one of his oversized shirts, legs tucked under you, and hair still damp from your evening shower, the thought sometimes crept in.

You weren’t flashy. Or flirty. You didn’t walk into a room and make everyone turn their heads.

But somehow, you were the one Atsumu came home to. The one he texted when he landed in another city for a match. The one whose cold fingers he grumbled about but always held.

It didn’t make sense.

And tonight, for some reason, it hit harder than usual.

Maybe it was the girl he’d been interviewed with - a fellow athlete, bold and gorgeous, laughing too comfortably beside him. Maybe it was how well she matched the image of the girls you always thought he’d end up with.

Maybe it was just your own voice, whispering doubts you’d buried for too long.

Either way, when he came out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle tucked under his arm, ready to join you for a late-night movie, you couldn’t stop the words from slipping out.

���Atsumu?”

He glanced down, eyebrow lifted. “Hm?”

You hesitated, staring at the pattern on the couch.

“Why… me?”

He paused, slowly setting the bowl down on the coffee table.

“What?”

You looked up at him, small, nervous. “I mean, I know what kind of girls you used to like. Or still like. Probably. I’m not… that.”

He blinked at you. Not insulted. Just confused. “That?”

You motioned vaguely. “You know. Tall. Curvy. Confident. Girls who wear heels and red lipstick and know how to flirt without trying. You’ve always liked girls like that.”

Atsumu was quiet for a second.

Then, without a word, he sat beside you - not in the usual casual way, but closer. His hand found yours. Warm. Steady.

“Yeah,” he said finally, voice low. “I noticed girls like that. That’s different.”

You frowned. “Is it?”

He turned toward you, his expression more serious than usual. “Look, I ain’t gonna lie. I did have a type. Still probably get distracted sometimes - I’m a guy with eyes.”

You flinched.

“But,” he continued, squeezing your hand, “there’s a difference between who catches your eye and who you choose.”

You didn’t answer. Just stared at him, trying not to crumble.

Atsumu leaned forward, resting his forehead briefly against yours.

“I chose you,” he murmured. “I keep choosing you.”

You blinked quickly. “Why?”

He chuckled - not because it was funny, but because the question felt so absurd to him.

“Because you’re the only one who makes me feel like I can shut up for a second,” he said, soft and honest. “Because you look at me like I’m more than a loudmouth on a court. Because you keep me grounded. You don’t care about the attention or the fan crap. You care about me.”

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t done.

“And yeah, maybe you don’t walk in and turn heads,” he said, voice gentler now, “but you don’t need to. I turn mine for you.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to cry.

Atsumu caught that too. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I like the way you fit against me when we sleep. I like how you always eat the last french fry, even when you say you’re full. I like that you study the people you love and notice when they’re tired even if they don’t say anything.”

You laughed quietly. “That’s very specific.”

“So are my feelings for you.”

You let yourself lean against him then, all of your weight tucked into his side, forehead buried in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I just… felt small tonight.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll just remind you again tomorrow.”

[goorgeousz]

hotchelle | aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader summary: you have a furry emergency, and it’s up to your knight in shining armor — a vest and a government gun — of a husband to save you. content/tw: this is so unserious, dog being abandoned, aaron being completely whipped for his wife, just fluff! word count: 1.8ka/n: don’t mind me, i’m just (once again) spreading the “yes ma’am” Aaron agenda. reqs are open! hope you like it 💗🪽

masterlist <3

drabbles masterlist <3

more of "yes ma’am” Aaron

Even though he spent most of his life dealing with tragedies and loss, Aaron was never ready for it. No amount of experience seemed to prepare him for the feeling of fear.

So, although he was most used to receiving bad news when his phone rang, his heart immediately gave out when he answered your call.

“Hey, hon…”

“Aaron,” your rasped voice cried, sobs cutting through you and interrupting whatever you wanted to say.

“Honey, where are you?” he urged, immediately pushing his chair back and sprinting out of his office, not even bothering to button up his suit.

You cried louder, sniffing hard and trying to get the words out.

“I– I was hi-hiking.” he tried not to rush you, instead just sprinting into Garcia’s office.

“Yeah? On your usual track?”

He opened her door without knocking, startling the blonde woman and Reid, who sat beside her probably analysing some case he had been consulting.

Sensing the urge on their boss’ face, they didn’t waste a second before turning to him and getting ready to help in any way possible.

“Y-yeah. Signal is really bad,” you managed, and the way you hiccuped trying to steady your breathing made his heart physically ache.

“I’m coming. Do we need an ambulance? Or…”

“No! No, it’s not me… Aaron, please hurry, I’m…” before you could get any word out the phone went mute, and a few seconds later trying to reconnect the call, it ended.

“Garcia, can you trace her phone?” he asked, trying to seem less desperate than he actually felt. It didn’t work.

“Of course, sir.” she answered, already midway into finding his wife’s location. In a matter of seconds, the map on the screen’s computer glowed with a red pin, and a banner with her exact coordinates popped up. “Here, just sent it to your phone.”

He thanked her before turning around, Reid barely catching up with his pace. “I’ll come with you, sir.” to which he just nodded. He didn’t actually agree to it, neither seemed particularly happy about it, but he didn’t say no and the look on his face showed there wasn’t much on his mind except for the urge to find you.

Luckily it wasn’t rush hour, so they didn’t end up getting any speed tickets – the fact that he turned on the sirens at points where the traffic was a little heavier had nothing to do with it, trust –, and as soon as they got near the point Garcia instructed, they spotted her.

Sat on the ground on the side of the road, slightly off the tracking path, his wife’s baby pink clothes stood out on the grass as if she was a waking highlight. Hotch didn’t waste any time on parallel parking, throwing the car on park as soon all four tires stepped off the highway, and stepping out of it in a second, reaching for his gun, with Spencer mimicking his moves.

“Honey, we’re here.” he said loudly, trying to ease her shaking figure before he even got to her. She wiped her head back, and even though her face was red, puffy and drenched in tears, her eyes sparkled with recognition and relief, like she felt that everything was going to be okay: Aaron was there! The feeling almost made him combust.

“Aaron,” your voice whined, and then you started crying again, louder this time, relieved to not be alone anymore. Quickly scanning the area and guaranteeing there weren't any threats nearby, the two – guns still in hand – agents stepped close to her, still sitting on the floor.

As soon as they reach her, standing on each of her sides, they stop for a second. Aaron physically had to restrain himself from sighing loudly because you were about to have a stroke due to how hard you were crying, while Spencer had to bite the inside of his cheeks until blood was drawn out to stop himself from laughing.

Just in front of you, laid on the dirty floor was a puppy, it’s furr so dirty you could barely see it’s color. The dog showed no signs of being awake, and Aaron felt a little sting with the realization. The dog was dead. He just wished you’d told him sooner.

“I don’t know if she’s dead.” you managed between sobs, catching your husband’s glance “I saw a box on the hike with a note saying the family’s dog birthed her, they were moving across the country and couldn’t bring the puppy with them. She’s the only puppy who made it alive. I think she escaped of the box, trying to find someone. That’s how she got here.”

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “Reid, tell Garcia we’re fine.” he demanded, sending his agent a pointed look at his amused expression. Spencer nodded, stepping back for a second to text his friend, taking the opportunity to silently laugh.

Then, he put away the gun, kneeling down beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder and looking at the animal. You took it as a sign, and buried your face into your husband’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His heart nearly gave out at how heartbroken you were, and all annoyance disappeared on his body just like that.

“Oh, Aaron, I’m sorry. I know you were busy. But… I just needed you, and I…”

“Shh, it’s okay. There’s no problem, at all.” he coached you, fully sitting down beside you and taking you fully in his arms. He meant it: emergency or not, there’s nowhere he would rather be than by your side to stroke your hair and kiss your forehead until you stopped crying.

“Can I see her?” Reid asked politely, crouching down beside you and curiously staring at the puppy. He, surprisingly, touched the dog without any gloves on, not waiting for an answer to actually start checking. Only a couple minutes had passed when he stood up “She’s alive, but barely. We should get her to a vet now.”

You nodd, sniffing and quickly coming to a standing position, the urge to help temporarily occupying your mind enough for you to stop crying, taking off your defined jacket and turning into a makeshift blanket, and wrapping around the puppy carefully.

The ride for the vet was quick, with Reid sharing his thoughts – even though his knowledge concerning puppies was rather short – and Hotch, once again, barely missing speed tickets.

“Reid, take the car back.” he sighed, handing the agent his keys. Spencer, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last minutes, stifled a laugh “I’ll stay here with her”.

When Hotch caught up with you, you were already at the reception of the vet ER – yes, they had those –, bawling your eyes out. One of the vets took the dog off your arms, handing your jacket back. You strode beside the team, giving them all the information you had so far.

“I think she spent the night. Her box was still wet, and it rained last night. Is she going to be okay?” you urged, eyes widening at the vet’s expression.

“Miss, you’ll have to wait outside okay? Thank you for your help.” he said, and they closed themselves into a consulting room, leaving you stuck on your feet.

Hotch touched your back, the feeling of his finger on your skin waking you from your trance. You turned abruptly to face him, and a kick on his gut would’ve hurt less – which he knew for a fact – than the sigh of your lower lip trembling, your eyes widened and red, filled with tears “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” he managed, and he hated how powerless he felt. So he just tugged you closer, hugging you closely and letting you cry.

“How can someone do that?” you said, angrily. Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his suit.

“I know, right? But she’s strong. Did you see how she lasted the whole night out there and still made it? She will be just fine.”

That made you step back, your eyes a little more hopeful as you looked at him. He loved that you believed him so much, and even though he had no way of knowing how this would turn out, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.” he said, and that made a little smile tug at your lips. “Come on, let’s sit while we wait, huh?”

A couple hours had passed, with you pressed close to Hotch’s side, occasionally moving to play with a dog and hear other people’s stories. When you finally stopped crying, he stood and left a kiss on your forehead, leaving to get some food. Because you expected to be home way sooner, you haven’t eaten, and he was sure that if you didn’t get anything on your system, his next stop would be the actual ER, since you’ve probably cried out all 70% of the water on your system.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When he came back, two bags of lunch from the diner across the street, water and orange juice enough for the whole vet crew, he was surprised to see you surrounded with people. The other dog owners sat around you in the waiting room, listening closely to the story about how you found the puppy. You could be telling a fairy tale, the way their eyes shone with interest, gasping and cooing as on command. 

But what caught Hotch’s attention the most was the way the guy next to you – who definitely wasn’t there before he left – touched your bare knee with sympathetic – and honestly hungry – eyes. “You’re so brave and kind,...” the bastard said.

“And married.” he stepped closely, eyeing the man down with his stare reserved solely to the unsubs and particularly unpleasant officers he used to deal with.

“Oh, Aaron, you’re back!” you turned to face him, face glowing with that adorable smile of yours, looking at him with so much love that his scowl instantly melted. He barely noticed the guy standing up awkwardly and finding another sit all the way across the waiting room.

You ate together, with your husband making sure you drank enough fluids for a week, his attentive gaze not leaving your figure until there was nothing left on the paper bags but crumbs. As you were negotiating a sweet treat, a woman with a clipboard and a paw-patterned scrub emerged from the back of the ER seccion “Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner?”

Any thoughts about cookies or brownies being indispensable to raise your sugar levels vanished immediately as you rose to your feet in a speed that left Aaron’s spine jealous, and the two of you followed her closely, your husband’s hand rested on your lower back, now covered with the fabric of his suit – since you decided that the jacket you used to wrap the dirty dog in was now your own personal blankie – tracing patterns as you walked to the room.

When you finally got there, the little puppy was finally awake. Still completely dirty and somehow smaller than she looked when you found her, but fully alert “Hey, you pretty little girl. Oh, look, Aaron. Her eyes are just like yours.” you cooed, and this time he couldn’t control the roll of his eyes. He knew what you were doing. Trying to cute-guilt him into taking the damn dog. So what if the color of the puppy’s eyes was the exact shade of brown of his own? If Reid was there – and he made a mental note to call him later to check the information – he would agree that probably over 70% of the people on earth have brown eyes. Following that logic, the dog has the same eyes as 70% of the world’s population. Somehow that thought didn’t sit right with him, though.

“Is the dog okay?” he asked the vet, just wanting to get this over with. The woman nodded, her knowing smile too suspicious for his liking.

“She’s perfectly fine. She was a bit dehydrated, but I guess her previous owners left her with a little bit of food. We just took a few tests, but everything is normal. Her blood test results will take a few days, though.”

“But do you think she will be fine? Like, on the tests?” you asked, stroking the back of the dog’s ears with your fingers.

“Absolutely. But that’s all thanks to you. If you hadn't found her, I don’t think she would’ve made it.” 

You turn to Hotch with a little pout and tears in your eyes – of happiness this time, thankfully – and just like that you won another piece of his heart. But he keept it to himself, just raising his eyebrows at you, unbothered.

“We’ll just examine her now. Routine things. When the blood test comes out we’ll see for sure what vaccines she already has, but she’s 10 weeks old, so probably a few.” the vet explains while reaching the puppies belly with a stethoscope to check her heartbeat. “All good. She’s strong as a rock.” the woman keeps explaining each step of the examination, and at every new information you turn to look at Hotch, your eyes glowing with affection. The puppy, as if it senses your little show and wants to back you up, just behaves, her tail wagging everytime you or the vet talk to her with that high pitch voice, her big brown eyes staring at both of you as if you are her whole world. And he so stubbornly pretends he’s not melting as much as you.

“Now, we’ll take her temperature. This is the worst part of the exam, but just because it’s a bit uncomfortable.”

“She’s shaking, do you think she has a fever?” you ask, the worry on your tone not going unnoticed.

“Probably just fear. I don’t think she has a fever, but we’ll only know for sure by taking the temperature. Do any of you want to hold her or do you want me to call someone?” she asks, eyeing the two of you expectantly. Obviously, you dismiss the later option, moving your hands closer to the puppy. As the vet leans forward with the thermometer in hand, the dog does the unthinkable.

Awkwardly and clumsy running away from your and the vet’s reach, she goes into Hotch’s direction, and he has to step forward and grab her to prevent her from falling out of the table “Are you crazy?” he asks, not even realizing he was talking to the dog, staring annoyed at her. When he tries to place her back on the table, she whines, pressing her little paws higher on his arms, and he has to juggle her back safely to keep her from falling again “Jesus Christ, okay. I’ve got you.”

Aaron misses the way you and the vet eye each other in conspiracy, too busy making sure she’s comfortably nested on his arms “Oh, look. She stopped shaking. Hold her tight so I can check her temperature, will you?” the vet says, stepping closer and – as he will later describe – shoving the thermometer up on the puppy’s ass – which was actually very gentle and professional, but scared him anyway. “Oh, look at that. Not a fever. Your baby is perfectly healthy. Oh, wait.” the vet stops on her tracks, glancing back and forth between you and Hotch and asks the oh, so feared question “You are going to keep her?”

In an oscar-worth performance, you wiped your head to face him, pressing your hands, half-covered by the sleeves of his suit, on his bicep – carefully not to disturb the baby resting on his arms –, batting your eyelashes at him and staring with your eyes slightly opened, in those lost puppy eyes you mastered so well.

“Can we keep her? Please!” he sighed, not even daring to avert his eyes down to the dog he held, knowing damn well it would be a lost battle for him.

“Listen, I…” you interrupted, pointing at the small figure on his arms, forcing him to look at it.

“She’s already attached, baby. We can even name her after you!” you offered, your face deep in thought as you stared at the puppy’s eyes, as if trying to read its mind “Hotchelle!”

Aaron scrunched his nose, averting his torso to the side, as if putting some distance between you and the puppy would protect her from the name you’ve chosen.

“We’re not naming her Hotchelle.”

You crossed your arms, arching your brows “What are we naming her, then?” he then looked at the dog, still too dirty for either of you to see her real color.

“Maybe after we get her cleaned we can…”

Realization washed over him.

You stood there, the image of innocence, your eyes mischievous and expectant. If it weren’t the slight twitch at the corner of your lips, one could think you didn’t already know you had him wrapped around your finger.

So, he just sighed, looking briefly at the – his – puppy, and he could swear she had the same smug expression as yours.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a well deserved shower gifted by the clinic – and many dollars spent at the pet shop wing at the clinic while you waited – the two – three – of you walked out together. You, holding some of the purchase’s bag, still wearing his suit jacket. Aaron, holding a freshly showered Hotchelle, wrapped around her brand new fluffy pink blanket, wearing two matching bows like a doll – while shopping you asked him if he thought Hotchelle was ‘more of a bow or pompom kinda girl’, to which he huffed an annoyed ‘bow, obviously’ – and the scowl he usually had on was much less prominent.

As soon as you stepped out of the clinic, the sun having already set, a flashlight temporarily blinded you. Blinking in surprise, your sight started to clear. It was a picture. And you couldn’t stop your laughter when you saw all the members of the BAU standing in the parking lot, matching amused smiles watching Aaron.

“We came to drop your car off.” Emily explained, her own laughter barely stiffed. Hotch sighed loudly.

“Thanks.” he muttered between gritted teeth “You can all go now.”

“Hm, I don’t think so, Hotch.” Rossi managed “We all want to meet the new addition to the family. We were kept in suspense since Reid told us what happened” Spencer had the decency to seem embarrassed, scratching the back of his head and blushing under Aaron’s disapproval stare.

Having restrained herself for long enough for the sake of the joke, Penelope threw herself in front of her boss, asking for you the whole rescue story. While at it, you catched the way Hotch stiffened his arms whenever Garcia tried to pry the baby to her own arms. Mercesly, you kept it to yourself.

“She’s still very young. 10 weeks.” he stated, glancing at Reid.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer started, stepping closer with the other members, all cooing at how cute she looked. Specially contrasted with Aaron's broad figure – that earned Morgan another pack of photos, which you eagerly asked, for…. scientific purposes. “I did some research, and it turned out this specific breed is extremely affectionate due to….”

“Wait. Before we start the lecture” JJ pried, looking at Spencer apologetically “What’s her name?”

The tip of Hotch’s ears turned bright red, and the team glanced at each other. Sensing that your husband wasn’t going to answer, you stepped in, a bright smile in response “We named her after Aaron. Since she’s a daddy’s girl. Just like her mommy.” you winked at him, making him cringe. If both of his arms weren’t already busy, you were sure he would’ve been pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Don’t… say this…” he pleaded weakly.

“It can’t be that bad.” Morgan tried, his grin suggesting he thought otherwise.

“Hotchelle.” your husband said under his breath, earning many loud reactions in return. He just turned on his heel, getting the car keys from Emily’s hand and looking back at you “We're leaving.”

You were almost skipping on your way to his car, nestling the dog in your arms and showing her to the team like a trophy, who stood back laughing. Before getting into the driver’s seat, Aaron glanced back at them.

“Reid.” he commanded, his voice strong and stern like a thunder. Even from the distance, you could see Spencer gulping, bracing himself for the scold he was about to get. In a much lighter tone and with a smirk — he always had fun scaring his teammates — he said “I want to hear about your research tomorrow.”

taglist: all hotch @winyourheartemma all cm @s0urw00lf @deeninadream

[viaxslz]

⭔﹐⌗ ATTENTION ﹕ᶻz﹒

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 gn!reader, cw: established relationship, post argument, making up, cold shoulders, pet names, oh take me back to this era 😭😭, not proofread :P

CHAN

You’ve been giving Chan the cold shoulder for hours after your argument. arms crossed, death glare loaded, and air pods in even though they’re not playing anything. Chan knows he's in trouble. You’re not even acknowledging the dog pics he sent you. The dog pics. That’s when he knows it’s serious. Cue Chan pacing back and forth in the living room like a sitcom dad. He's googling "how to apologize to your emotionally intelligent but terrifyingly stubborn significant other who might actually kill you with their eyes." No real help. He decides to go with the classic Chan combo: guilt + dramatic flair + ✨stupid charm✨. Next thing you know, he’s dramatically fake-sniffling outside your door with a Bluetooth speaker playing “Apologize” by OneRepublic at full volume. “Baby… it’s too late to apolo—oh wait, no, it’s NOT too late! That’s why I’m here!” You crack the door open just to glare, and that’s when he shoves a plate of perfectly microwaved dino nuggets into your hands like it’s a peace treaty. “I made these with love. And regret. Mostly regret. But also love.” You’re still silent. So he pulls out his final weapon: a handwritten letter addressed to “The Love of My Life (Who Could Annihilate Me With One Look).” It’s full of sappy lines like “Your silence hurts more than leg day” and “You’re my favorite notification and also includes a stick figure drawing of you kicking his butt, labeled “Me if I ever mess up again.” You finally snort, trying to stay mad but failing. He gasps. “Was that a laugh? Did you just—was that forgiveness I heard in your nose?” You: “That was me trying not to choke on a nugget, actually.” Chan grins like he just won an Oscar. “I’ll take it.” And before you know it, you’re in his arms, still pretending you’re annoyed, while he whispers sweet apologies into your ear and asks if you want to co-parent a puppy someday because, you know, trust rebuilding.

LEE KNOW

Minho isn’t the type to beg for forgiveness. At least, that’s what he tells himself. In reality, he’s been sulking in the kitchen for an hour, dramatically peeling oranges like they personally offended him because someone (you) won’t talk to him after your argument. He’s not even sure who was right anymore. Probably you. But admitting that out loud would break his cool, and that’s illegal in Minho Land. Instead, he starts making increasingly loud commentary to his cats. “Soonyoung, do you think I was being unreasonable? Hmm? No? Exactly. At least someone understands me.” You’re in the next room, scrolling on your phone, clearly ignoring him. He walks by casually and accidentally drops a photo of you two on the floor. “Oops,” he says way too loudly. “Didn’t mean to drop this beautiful memory we shared when we were still talking to each other like normal, emotionally stable people.” Still nothing. You don’t even blink. That’s when he resorts to phase two: petty bribery. He slides a plate of your favorite snack across the table toward you without saying a word. There’s a sticky note on it that says: “I’m still mad but I miss you more. Don’t let the cat eat this.” You glance at it, unimpressed. So he ups the ante and sends you a meme one of himself, edited to look like he’s crying in a corner with the caption: “Me after realizing I can’t win a fight against my insanely hot and emotionally intelligent partner.” Finally, you let out a laugh, and he looks up from across the room like a cat that’s pretending it doesn’t care but has been watching you the whole time. “Oh, so you do still love me,” he smirks, leaning against the counter. You: “I still haven’t forgiven you.” Minho: “That’s okay. I forgive me for both of us.” You roll your eyes and throw a pillow at him. He catches it, kisses it dramatically, and says, “Tell your representative we accept the terms.” Later, he lets Dori sit in your lap while he curls up next to you, whispering, “I hate fighting with you. Let’s not do that again. Unless you’re into angry make-ups. In which case, I’m very available.”

CHANGBIN

Changbin messed up. He knows it. You know it. The neighbors probably know it because you haven’t responded to a single thing he’s said in two hours and he’s been dramatically sighing every five minutes like someone just told him protein shakes were banned. He starts pacing the apartment like he’s mentally preparing for a final boss fight. Even his muscles look tense. He mutters to himself like a stressed-out drama lead. "Okay Changbin, you’ve survived leg day, you’ve survived Jihoon’s cooking, you can survive this." He tries casual tactics first. Walks by you holding a gallon of water like he’s not suffering. Drops a casual “sup” in the most broken voice ever. You don’t even blink. So he levels up: Operation Cute & Desperate. You hear rustling in the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, he walks out in your hoodie, the one that’s comically tight on him and a headband with little bear ears. His arms are crossed. His face is dead serious. “I’m here to apologize,” he says, voice an octave higher. “As your oversized emotional support bear.” You blink. He waddles closer, overly dramatic. “I’ve been thinking about my actions. While lifting. And crying. Slightly. Okay maybe a lot. But my point is look into these bear ears and tell me you don’t miss me.” You burst out laughing. He grins like he just benched 300 pounds of forgiveness. But he’s not done. He dramatically pulls out a tiny tub of ice cream from behind his back like it’s an engagement ring. “I come bearing peace offerings and high-calorie emotional healing. If this doesn’t work, I’ll let you pick the next gym playlist. Even if it’s… ballads.” You, narrowing your eyes: “Even the sad ones with rain sound effects?” He winces. “Even those.” You pull him into a hug, bear ears squishing slightly, and he lets out a victorious sigh.

HYUNJIN

The argument was dumb. Like, really dumb. Something about the dishes and his suspicious ability to avoid them like they’re cursed. But now you’re not talking to him, and Hyunjin is spiraling. He’s lying facedown on the floor like a Victorian man fainting in a corset. Felix: “Dude, are you okay?” Hyunjin, muffled into the carpet: “No. My soulmate hates me and the world has lost color.” He tries texting you, but you left him on read. Tragic. So he gets creative. You walk into the living room and freeze. There’s a handwritten note taped to the wall that says: “In this house, i love and respect the queen (you). Even when she is intimidating and scary and not talking to me.” Below it: a trail of rose petals… leading to the kitchen… where you find Hyunjin in an apron, holding a vacuum cleaner in one hand and a spatula in the other like some kind of domestic apology warrior. “I have vacuumed. I have cooked. I have suffered.” You stare at him. He drops the spatula. “Do I get forgiveness points if I say you’re prettier when you’re mad?” You squint. “No.” He gasps. “How dare. I’m literally groveling. Do you know how much I hate crumbs on my socks? I vacuumed for you. That’s love.” You try to keep a straight face, but he’s got that kicked puppy look and there’s flour in his hair. It’s… kind of adorable. “I’m still mad.” He nods solemnly, walks over, and holds up a crayon drawing of the two of you holding hands, labeled: “Me + The Love of My Life (please forgive me I am weak without you)” You burst out laughing, finally giving in. He beams like he just won an award. Hyunjin, hugging you tightly: “I’ll do dishes every day this week.” You: “And next week.” Hyunjin: “Let’s not push it.”

HAN

Han is not handling this well. You're ignoring him and he’s been pacing the room like a raccoon on Red Bull. The argument was over something stupid (probably him forgetting to text you back because he was distracted by a pigeon outside), but now you’re giving him the silent treatment and he’s one sad meme away from spiraling. He sends you a voice note titled “Please Listen or I Will Cry in Public” You open it. It’s just him saying “hi” in 27 different accents, followed by a long sigh and then: “I miss you. Also, I stubbed my toe and I feel like that’s karma.” Still no response. So he launches Operation Desperate But Make It Stupid™. You walk into the kitchen to find a post-it note stuck to your favorite snack: “This snack is yours. So is my heart. Please take both.” Then there’s another note on the fridge: “If this is where the cold stuff goes, why are you being so cold to me :(((((” Another one on the toilet: “I flushed my pride. Let me back in your heart.” You’re trying not to laugh, but it’s becoming physically impossible. Then you hear him yell from the living room: “BABY PLEASE I CAN’T WORK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS. I TRIED TO WRITE LYRICS AND THEY TURNED INTO A SAD POEM ABOUT YOUR LEFT EYEBROW.” You peek your head out and he’s sitting dramatically on the floor with a ukulele he can’t play, strumming random strings while freestyle rapping an apology. “I was dumb and now I’m numb, You’re my queen and I’m your crumb, Forgive me please, or I’ll become…A worm.” You: “…A worm?” Jisung: “An unlovable worm.” You finally burst out laughing. He scrambles to his feet like he just got a Grammy and hugs you tight, not letting go. “I’m sorry. I was dumb. I always mess things up but I don’t wanna mess us up. You mean too much to me, even more than ramen. That’s serious.” You: “Even more than convenience store ramen at 3am?” He gasps. “Don’t make me say it again. It hurts.”

FELIX

You’re mad. And Felix? He’s a walking apology wrapped in sunshine and panic. He’s been following you around the apartment at a five-foot distance like a sad Roomba. Every time you turn, he freezes like he’s been caught committing a crime. He tries whispering your name dramatically like a telenovela character. “Y/N… Y/N, please… don’t do this. Not like this. Don’t ghost me while we’re still in the same house. It’s emotional terrorism.” You ignore him. So he leaves and comes back wearing the most ridiculous outfit known to mankind: your fuzzy pink robe, heart-shaped sunglasses, and a single oven mitt. “Look,” he says, dead serious. “This is what losing your affection did to me. I have no sense of fashion. No sense of self. I tried to toast bread but forgot to plug in the toaster.” You raise an eyebrow. So he ups the ante. Grabs your plushie and gently makes it “walk” toward you with a high-pitched voice. “Hi! I’m Mr. Snuggles and I think you should forgive Lixie because he’s really sorry and his freckles are crying.” You cover your face trying not to laugh. “Help what???” Then he puts the plushie down, sighs deeply, and finally drops the crack for a second. “I know I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. I’d never do anything to make you feel ignored or unimportant, but I messed up. So… I’ll keep making a fool of myself until you smile again.” You glance up, and he’s got his arms wide open like a dramatic K-drama confession, still in your robe. You: “You look like a chaotic sleepover aunt.” Him, with the brightest grin: “But am I your forgiven chaotic sleepover aunt?” You sigh, walk over, and hug him. He melts immediately, nearly collapsing with relief. “I’ll be better,” he murmurs into your shoulder. “I promise. Even if I have to learn how to use the toaster properly.”

SEUNGMIN

The argument was small but loud. And now you’ve gone full cold shoulder. No eye contact. No banter. No sarcastic jabs. Nothing. For Seungmin, that’s worse than death. At first, he tries to out-ignore you out of pure spite. He walks past you dramatically sipping water like he’s never been hydrated a day in his life. Slams the cup down. Sighs. Doesn’t look at you. Repeats. Then he escalates. You walk into the kitchen and the fridge has a post-it that says: “This is where cold things go. Just like your heart apparently.” You spot your favorite snack on the counter. The packaging is untouched… but there’s another note: “I was going to eat this out of petty revenge, but I remembered I’m a good person. Unlike some people.” You almost laugh. Almost. Later, you hear him muttering while gaming: “Wow, teammates who actually listen… must be nice…” You finally lose it and throw a pillow at him. He catches it midair like a smug little gremlin and smirks. “So you can still see me. Thought I turned invisible.” You: “You’re so dramatic.” Seungmin, fake offended: “I haven’t even started yet.” Then he softens. Just a little. Barely. “I don’t like fighting with you. And I definitely don’t like not talking to you. I’m still mad, but I miss you more.” He walks over, hands in pockets, and says it without looking directly at you. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I’m working on it. Please don’t stay mad too long, okay?” You stare at him. He stares at the floor. “…Also I may or may not have named your pillow Kevin and cried into him last night.” You: “You WHAT—” Seungmin: “Shhh. Kevin and I are going through a lot.”

JEONGIN

Jeongin, immediately after the argument: “I don’t care. I’m not apologizing. I was RIGHT.” Jeongin, 20 minutes later, whispering to Hyunjin: “She’s not looking at me. Should I fake an injury?” Hyunjin: “What kind?” Jeongin: “Emotional.” Cue Operation Unbothered (but obviously very bothered). He starts acting extra around the house. Slams drawers. Loudly types on his phone with the keyboard click sounds on. Walks past you with exaggerated sighs and occasional mutters like: “Guess I’ll just go be emotionally damaged… ALONE.” You stay silent. Now it’s desperation hour. He walks in wearing a crown made from a cereal box, holding a mop like a sword. “I have returned from the Kingdom of Regret. I bring apologies and emotional growth.” You blink. He bows deeply, knocking the crown off his head. “Your silence wounds me, fair lady. I shall now sing of my sorrow.” You: “Jeongin, don’t—” Too late. He whips out his phone, plays the most dramatic instrumental music he can find, and starts fake-sobbing like he’s in a historical drama. “Forgive me, for I was young and foolish—AND STUPID. MOSTLY STUPID.” You’re cackling at this point, and he breaks character instantly, grinning like he just won the lottery. “AH, SHE SMILES. I AM REDEEMED.” You: “You’re so annoying.” Him, smug: “But… forgiven?” You roll your eyes, tug him into a hug, and he melts instantly, still holding the mop. “Next time,” you mumble, “just say sorry like a normal person.” He grins into your shoulder. “Where’s the drama in that?”

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor @queenofdumbfuckery @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @my-neurodivergent-world @bookswillfindyouaway @beal-o @velvetmoonlght

[buckyalpine]

Bucky knows you’re faking

Bucky knows you’re faking. He has no idea where you met this guy or why you’re still with him, in fact Bucky almost feels sorry for him. Because this guy thinks he’s doing a good job. He thinks he’s making you cry from pleasure, he thinks he’s pulling orgasms from you left right and center but Bucky knows.

Becuase he’s heard you. Fucking smelled you.

In your room, all by yourself.

He hears every moan and whimper, all those noises you can’t hold back. The filthy squelching of your pussy making a mess on the sheets is a sound unmatched. You always smell so good after and he can’t get over how soft and sweet you are, all fucked out with a quiver in your voice, not realizing he knows exactly what you’ve been up to with those pretty fingers between your legs.

He’s seen the way you practically glow afterwards, a shy smile on your face, acting like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat minutes ago. Always when it’s well past midnight, coming down for a snack, a thin sheen of sweat still covering your skin. He’s usually in the kitchen, having to pretend his cock isn’t aching after hearing how pretty you sound, how desperate and loud you get when you think no one can hear you.

But he can.

Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, smirking when he heard your less than enthusiastic sounds and silence a few minutes later. He watched carefully as you made your way into the kitchen with nothing but a flimsy robe covering you, eyes growing wide when you realized you weren’t alone.

“Have a fun night?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, struggling to keep his eyes on your face and not the loose knot, so close to letting your robe fall open, giving him access to that pretty body-

“Oh-yes” you shrugged, suddenly feeling hot all over realizing Bucky had probably heard you, “I-um-I don’t think I’ll see him again”

“Why not” Bucky prodded, his curiosity piqued, self-restraint faltering, he couldn't hold back, not when that poor excuse of a robe was begging to be ripped off. “He can’t make you cum, can he princess”

“What?” You stared at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot, mouth gaping while he chuckled.

“I said-” he got up from his place at the kitchen island, biting his lip while backing you against the counter, your eyes growing wide feeling his hard, poorly contained bulge press onto you. "He can't make you cum? Can he?"

“I-" You stammered, gripping onto the edge of the counter, surely you were dreaming, there's no way this was really happening, all the fantasies you've thought of coming to life-

“Oh baby” Bucky cooed at your flustered state, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now bunny. Was that it? Did he make you cum?”

You shook your head, still nearly frozen like a baby deer, whimpering when Bucky groaned, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Knew you were faking it princess, I've heard you, y'know" Bucky smirked at your gasp, clearly mortified that he'd heard you during your most intimate moments. "Y'sound so pretty when you touch yourself baby"

"Bucky" You whined, not sure what you were begging for, arousal pooling between your legs, spreading your knees slightly to press yourself against his thigh.

"Tell me to stop" his jaw was clenched, gripping onto the single strange of restraint he had, his fingers toying with the knot of your robe.

"D-don't stop" You let out a shuddered breath, shivering when your robe was thrown off before you could blink, Bucky's lips smashing onto yours. His hand gripped the back of your neck, his tongue claiming your mouth as his, teeth nipping and sucking your lip. He lifted you onto the cool marble counter with ease, metal fingers swiping through your folds, gathering your slick before shoving them in his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You're fuckin' sweet bunny" He didn't give you a chance to respond, prying your thighs apart and dipping down to lick a fat stripe through your soaked cunt before latching onto your clit. You cried out in pleasure, his wide shoulders keeping your legs spared apart.

"B-Bucky!!" Your head was thrown back when he shoved two fingers into you, curling and fucking them into you, moaning when you grabbed onto the roots of his hair, tugging harder the closer you got.

"Already sound so pretty baby" He let out a dark chuckle, kissing your pouty face when he pulled away just before you reached your high, tugging down his sweats to pull his cock out, "Bet you'd sound even better when you're stuffed, hm?"

"Please" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, practically humping yourself on him, desperate to be filled. His cock was curved towards his tummy, the swollen head dripping with precum. There was something about him still being fully dressed while you were stark naked in the middle of the kitchen that aroused you more, knowing damn well anyone could walk by at any given moment.

"You need a fat cock to cum around, don't you bunny? My bunny's such a little slut, she can't cum unless she has a fat cock fucking her brains out?" He taunted, loving the way you were nothing more than a babbling mess already, moaning when you felt his tip catch against your fluttering entrance.

"Please Bucky, need it"

"I know baby, I know, my poor baby needs cock, doesn't she" His eyes locked with yours as he started to breech your tight hole, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch.

"Breathe, s'just me baby, swear you got my cock so hard-shit" He hissed as he pushed himself to the hilt, pulling out at an agonizing slow pace, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Faster Bucky, please-please need you" You tried to get him to move but he shook his head, feeling you flutter around him.

"First tell me what you call be princess, what do you call me when you're all alone with these sweet fingers"

Had Bucky not been holding onto you, you would have fainted; you had no idea he'd also heard the nights where you desperately moaned and came over and over again thinking of him. Bucky smirked against your skin, slowing down the drag of his cock again, snapping his hips suddenly making you squeal.

“C’mon darling, what was that you called me”

“DADDYY” you wailed, wrapping your thighs around his waist when he stated to pound you with a bruising grip around your waist, the clinks of glasses in the cupboards growing louder the harder he fucked you on the counter. "OH-GOD-D-DADDY"

"That's right, daddy's fuckin' you baby, makes me so hard when you call me that" Bucky groaned, thrusting faster, already on the brink of an orgasm. He could feel his cock swell each time you moaned or whimpered, his hand sneaking down to rub your clit.

"N'look at this precious clit, s'this what you're always playing with baby? Always rubbing this needy little button, thinking on one can hear you?"

"F-fuck Buckyyyy" Your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks when he rubbed you faster, your first orgasm choking his cock without warning. You couldn't formulate words, letting out silent screams, blinking pleasure consuming you.

"That's it baby, moan for me, cum for me, cum for your daddy baby, know you've never cum for anyone else, go on n'cum for daddy, make daddy proud" Bucky looked feral, grunting with each thrust, desperately holding off his own orgasm, needing to feel you cum around him over and over again.

"OH-DADDY-D-DON'T ST-STOPP"

"Look at you baby, such a good girl for daddy, giving daddy all of her cum" Bucky's eyes were wild, staring at where he cock split you open, his length and trimmed hair covered in your creamy mess. "Daddy wants all of his baby's cream sweets"

"OH FUCCCKK" You wailed, your juices squirting all over his crotch, making it impossible for Bucky to hold off any more as you clung into him.

"So fuckin' proud of you baby, made daddy's cock feel so good, y'know that? Y'make daddy so hard, so horny, you're gonna make daddy cum so hard angel, m'gonna cum so hard for you, Fuck-gonna fill you up bunny-take it-take my cum-fuck-FUCCKK" Bucky roared against your neck as streams of cum started to fill you, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You were limp in his hold, passed out from pleasure, your combined mess dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

You didn't even realize you were tucked under the warmed blankets, wrapped up in a pair of thick, muscular arms, Bucky's large chest acting as a pillow. You nuzzled into him while he softly petted you hair, blissfully unaware it was just the start of a very long night.

[misserabella]

s.r and a.h p links!

pxrn links for these two! (+ mental scenarios that came to my mind with them) minors dni!!

aaron hotchner:

it doesn’t stop dripping! ; aaron’s been pulled away from you from weeks on end due to back to back cases. when he comes home, the first thing he does (can do, cause it’s all he’s been thinking about while being gone) is bury his thick veiny cock into your snug soppy cunt, and when he cums, filling you up with his heavy load, it’s soooo much it doesn’t stop flowing down your ass onto the sheets.

do you deserve it? ; after your silly plan of making aaron jealous by flirting with another agent, he makes sure to remind you just who you belong to. he fucks your cunt open without any prep, letting you feel the sting, your walls taking on his shape as he harshly fucks into you for what seems hours on end, making sure to slow down his pace every time you’re gonna cum and stopping just before you reach your peak as a punishment. you can’t take it anymore, crying and moaning for him to let you cum, and when he does? is heavenly. you’re brain dead on his cock. but he does not give you what you want most: his cum filling your womb. he fucks your mouth and makes you swallow. ‘cause you don’t deserve to be bred after being such a fucking brat. and then, he’s fucking right back into you to start all over again. looooong night.

harder!! ; in which you break aaron’s rules and get yourself punished. sleeves rolled up. ass in the air. drenched panties and cheeks so red you won’t be able to sit tomorrow. and he’s relentless, hitting harder, making you whimper and jerk in pain until tears are springing your eyes. “want me to stop?” you shake your head and bite your lip, your ass pushing back against his warm stinging palm. “harder please. and he smirks. “good girl.” and later on, he fucks you with a dildo, ‘cause he denies you his cock. “this will make you think twice before disobeying next time. you don’t deserve my cock.”

tummy bulge ; just that. aaron being so fucking big stretching your pussy open that you two can see the imprint of his cock fucking in and out of your cunt.

spencer reid:

slurp it up! ; spencer is begging, puppy eyes looking up at you. you’ve got to get to uni. he knows. you have an important test today. he knows. but you’ve been studying so hard this couple of weeks for your finals… completely leaving him hanging and alone, making him stroke his cock every night just to get the relief he needs you to give him (you’re the only one who can make him cum so hard his eyes are rolling back), so he begs and begs and begs. “just one taste. i’ll be quick. i promise!!! please i just can’t cum without you.” and how can you say no? so there you are, leaning on the wall as spencer croons his neck up, tongue hungrily lavishing your pussy as groans and moans of pleasure, pure ecstasy and relief leave his lips as he slurps and drinks up every single drop you give him while he fucks his hand. god. he’s gonna cum so hard…!

shooting blanks! ; poor little thing. you’ve fucked him up for good this time. his glasses are fogged up. his pretty hair a mess. puppy eyes glassy and cheeks so red they resemble cherries. you’ve fucked him so much you’ve completely drained his balls empty, and rubbed his tip raw with your cunt. his hips shake prettily and pathetically as you stroke his long gorgeous cock, sucking at his nipple in hopes to get just one more rope of his creamy yummy cum. his eyes are rolling back, he has lost his voice due to all the moaning and whimpering, and when he comes, just a single drop leaves his tip. you pout. fuck, you’re still hungry.

paint me. ; after realizing just how much your pretty virgin nerdy boyfriend loved your boobs you decided that, to ease him into fucking your pussy (knowing that if he did right now he’d probably blow his load as the tip barely slips inside), you let him use your tits instead. and you’re right. spencer is moaning, whining at the sight, strong hands pushing your pillowy perfect tits together to create the perfect pocket for his cock, and after barely three thrusts he’s painting your neck and chest with ropes of his cum. “so pretty…” he mutters as his tip smooches your perky nipple. of course he cleans you up with his tongue later!!

show me how you move ; your first time riding spencer. you’re chest to chest, mouth to mouth, tongues hungrily pushing into each others mouths as you bounce gently on his cock, he’s not all the way in. you’re still trying to get used to his size, cause spencer was big. halfway in and he’s already kissing your cervix. you can’t stop moaning, cause he’s reaching sooo deep, and his happy trail is scratching your clit just the right way. but spencer can’t take it anymore. he needs more. so his hands cup your ass, he plants the sole of his feet on the bed, and pounds into you in deep hard strokes up your pussy. you scream. and before you know it you’re cumming. he doesn’t stop. not until you’re squirting and begging him to stop, leaving your pussy lips swollen and you, sensitive and sore the day after.

good morning ; it’s still early when you feel it, your boyfriend grunting against your ear, his hard cock thrusting against your ass. you’d probably slept 3 hours, at most, since you two had gone to sleep after fucking for hours on end. but it doesn’t seem like enough for him. it will never be enough. “i’m sorry. fuck. i’m so sorry.” he moans, thrusting harder as he sucks at your neck when you moan, fully awake now. “i need you.” and just like that, that easily, you’re pulling a leg over his and slightly shifting to give him a better access to your dripping pussy. the two of you moan when the tip parts your sticky folds, and when he pushes in, he’s groaning. “fuck. so fucking tight… why are you still so fucking tight? i fucked you open a couple of hours ago…”

you can take it ; spencer with his beautiful virgin girlfriend, who he was to prep with three of his expert long fingers before fucking you cause he’s that fucking big. once inside, having to go slow, only fucking you with half of his cock ‘cause he knows that’s all you can take for now. but don’t worry. he’ll make sure to shape your pussy to his cock. you will take it.

extras (threesome!):

you can take them both ; pussy stretched so open, just having one rearranging your insides will never be the same.

rivals ; “she’ll get pregnant with my baby.” “not if i am the one who comes the most.”

one from the back, the other from the front! ; aaron is smirking as you gag around spencer’s cock, snapping pictures he’ll use to jerk off with his pretty boyfriend when they two of them are away from you on a case. “come on darling. you can take him deeper, can’t you? thaaat’s it. good girl.”

[hanniebaeee]

Mystery Girl

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive MDNI

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff

Summary: You and Hyunjin are best friends. You know absolutely everything about him. But not this one thing - his mystery girl. The one he can't stop talking about. The one who seems to have stolen his heart completely.

a/n: For Jinnie, 'coz I miss him...

You’ve been Hyunjin’s ride-or-die bestie since forever - like, forever. You were the girl who’s seen him through literally everything. Point is, you were his everything. And he was your everything. 

But lately? Hyunjin has been all sorts of weird. Like, “humming love songs in the shower” weird. And he won’t shut up about this girl. This mystery goddess who has apparently stolen his heart and soul.

You were sprawled on his couch, legs slung over the armrest, reading a book, while he sat on the other end of the same couch, grinning into his phone. You tried so hard not to stare because, truth be told, you’ve been in love with this idiot since you were 14 and he drew a heart on your arm with a Sharpie.

“She’s just… ugh, she’s perfect,” he groaned, flopping back dramatically that his head landed on your thigh. “Like, her laugh? It’s so sexy. And the way she bites her lip when she’s thinking? Oh my god...”

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly saw your brain.

“Okay, Romeo, calm your tits. Who even is this chick? You’ve been going on about her for weeks, and I still don’t have a name. What does she look like? Since when do you have secrets from me, hm?” 

He smirked, propping himself up on his elbows, and giving you a dreamy look.

“She’s just…I don't know how to say it…Like, she’s so funny, but also kinda clumsy in this hot, chaotic way. And her body? Chef’s kiss. I’d worship her like a goddess if she’d let me.” he sighed, and you did your best to ignore the way your stomach twisted. 

Picturing him worshipping someone else - some flawless angel who probably doesn’t trip over her own feet like you do had you jealous as fuck. It made you want to cry because you’ve been in love with Hyunjin so long it’s practically a chronic condition at this point.

But you were a good friend. The best friend. So you swallowed the ache in your chest and plastered on a grin.

“Sounds like a catch,” you said, tossing a throw pillow at his stupidly gorgeous face. “So what’s the problem? Ask her out already.”

He caught the pillow and hugged it, groaning again. 

“But what if she’s not into me? What if she thinks of me like a…I don't know…brother? I’d die. Literally keel over. You’d have to plan my funeral.” he said, pouting and burying his face into the pillow. 

“Oh, please,” you snorted, nudging his thigh lightly with your socked foot. “You’re Hwang Hyunjin. You're literally a heartthrob. She’d have to be blind or brain-dead to say no. Just go for it.”

He sat up, eyes glinting with mischief.

“You think I’m a heartthrob?” he asked, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” you grumbled, heat creeping up your neck. “I’m just saying, ask her out. Worst case, she says no, and I’ll buy you ice cream to cry into.”

He stared at you for a beat too long, and you could swear there was something weird in his expression. Like he was about to say something, but then his phone buzzed, and he dived for it breaking the spell.

“Hang on, I need to do something.” he said, grinning into his phone again, and your insides burned with jealousy because it obviously looked like he was texting her. 

---

Later That Night:

Hyunjin: Okay, emergency. I need your help crafting the perfect text to send her. Something sexy but not creepy. 

You: Jinnie, it's like 2 am. What's wrong with you?

Hyunjin: Pretty pleaseeeeeeee

Hyunjin: Who else would I ask

You: Idk, Lix? 

Hyunjin: Come on. 

You: How about “Hey, you free this weekend? Wanna hang out? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.

Hyunjin: Ooh, that’s good. Mysterious. Sexy. She’ll be all over it.

You: Yeah, yeah, I’m a genius.

Hyunjin: I’m sweating. What if she thinks I’m hitting on her too hard?

You: She’s gonna think you’re a dork either way, so just hit send, you noodle.  

---

One minute later:

Hyunjin: OH GOD I’M GONNA PUKE.  

You: LMAO relax, she’s not gonna call the cops over a flirty text. 

Hyunjin: What if she laughs at me?

You: If she’s laughing, it’s probably because you’re a pabo and she’s into it. Chill. Go to bed.

Hyunjin: Can’t sleep. Too busy imagining her

Hyunjin: I mean, her smile. Imagining her smile.  

You: Oh my God ewww, go to sleep Hyunjin! 

Hyunjin: Too late for that

You: ’m begging you to stop before I bleach my eyes. Goodnight.  

You tossed your phone aside, heart pounding. He was so whipped for this girl, and it was killing you. You wanted to scream and throw a fit, but instead, you just buried your face in a pillow and sobbed.

---

Two hours later:

Your phone buzzed again. You were half-asleep, sprawled across your bed, but you grabbed it anyway.

---

Hyunjin: Okay, I’m doing it. I’m gonna confess tomorrow.

You: Good for you. 

Hyunjin: Yeah. I can’t keep pretending I don’t want her. She’s everything, bro. Like, she’s funny and hot and she gets me. I’d be an idiot not to go for it. 

You: Go get her, Jinnie. I’m proud of you.

Hyunjin: Thanks. Couldn’t do this without you. You’re the best.

You: Anything for you, loser. Night.

---

You took in a shaky breath. He was confessing tomorrow. And you’ll be there, cheering him on like the world’s saddest wingwoman, while your heart shattered into a million pieces.

The next morning, Hyunjin texted you at the crack of dawn - okay, fine, 10 a.m., but that was basically dawn for you. You were still groggy from the two hours of sleep you got when your phone pinged. 

---

Hyunjin: Get your ass out of bed. We’re going on a picnic.

You: A what now? I’m not leaving my blanket cocoon for anything less than free food.* 

Hyunjin: It’s a picnic, dumbass. Free food is the whole point. I’m picking you up in 30 min. Wear something nice. 

You: Excuse me, I always dress nice.

You: What's this about? 

Hyunjin: Just shut up and get ready. You’ll see. 

You: When I show up, if you’re smooching your Mystery Girl, I’m rioting.

Hyunjin: LMAO no smooching without your permission. Promise. Now move it.  

---

You groaned, rolling out of bed like a grumpy burrito. A picnic with you? What was this, some kind of rehearsal for his big moment with her? Your heart ached as you got ready, thinking about this. 

But then you reminded yourself. You were a supportive bestie. You could handle this. Probably.

Half an hour later, Hyunjin pulled up in front of your building in a flowy white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest (because of course) and black jeans that hugged his dancer thighs in ways you didn't want to talk about in this state of heartbreak. He was holding a bouquet of daisies, and you narrowed your eyes, as he grinned up at you. 

“Flowers?” you squawked, pointing at them like they were a live grenade. “Dude, did you get stood up or something? I am the replacement?”

He smirked, tossing his hair back like the dramatic bitch he was.

“Nah, these are for later. Get in, loser. We’ve got a date with nature.” he said, winking at you. 

You narrowed your eyes but climbed into the passenger seat, your sundress swishing around your knees.

“If you do something silly, I’m disowning you.” you threatened. 

“Relax,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve got this under control.”

---

He drove you to this little clearing by a lake, all golden sunlight and wildflowers, like something out of a storybook. You watched in silence as he spread a blanket - red and white checkered, because Hyunjin was nothing if not extra - and started unloading your picnic onto the blanket. Starting with a bottle of wine, and a spread of sandwiches, strawberries, those little chocolate pastries you loved.

Your heart did a weird flip, but you chalked it up to hunger. So this was oddly specific for a replacement date. 

“Okay, this is adorable,” you admitted, plopping down cross-legged on the blanket, after he gave you permission to do so. “Mystery Girl’s gonna lose her mind when you bring her here..”

Hyunjin sat across from you, stretching out his (ridiculously) long legs so they brushed against yours. He’s got that look again, soft and intense, like he’s about to do something.

“Yeah, well, I wanted it to be perfect. For her.” he said, giving you a smile that made your heart leap. 

Ok, damage control - you grabbed a strawberry and popped it in your mouth, trying to ignore it.

“So, what’s the plan? Gonna woo her with your  sandwich skills?” You joked, and he chuckled, leaning back on his hands, shirt gaping open to reveal more of his toned chest.

“Maybe. But I was thinking… something simpler. Just tell her how I feel. Straight up.” he said.

Your throat tightened, but you forced a grin.

“Good call.  Honesty is good. She'll totally love it.” you managed to say, fidgeting with your fingers. 

He tilted his head, watching you with an unreadable expression. “You think so?”

“Of course,” you said, snagging a sandwich and taking a bite to avoid his gaze. “You’re Hwang Hyunjin. You could say something silly and she’d still swoon.”

He laughed softly, so soft that it sounded almost nervous.

“Okay, then. Here goes.”

You were mid-chew when he sat up straighter, and turned to face you fully. Your brain was still on supportive-bestie-mode, so you didn’t clock what was happening until he opened his mouth.

“Ok,” he says, voice all husky and serious. “I’m crazy about you. Like, stupid crazy. You’re gorgeous and hilarious and you make me lose my damn mind every time you smile. I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, maybe years to be honest, so… yeah. I’m in love with you. And I want you to give me a chance to prove to you that I can be more than a pabo…and more of a…you know…”

Your brain flatlined. Literally. 

The sandwich slipped from your fingers, tumbling onto the blanket as your mouth opened, closed, opened again, but all that came out was a strangled, “H-Huh?”

“You heard me. It’s you, idiot. Always has been.” Hyunjin was grinning now, cheeks pink, holding the daisies out to you.

The world was spinning. Your chest tightened, your vision blurred, and - oh shit, you were actually going to faint. You’ve been in love with this man since you were a literal child, and now he’s hitting you with this? At a picnic? With daisies and sandwiches? Your arms and legs shake even though you’re sitting, and before you can stop it, you tip forward, falling right into his chest.

“Whoa - shit!” Hyunjin yelped, dropping the flowers to catch you. His arms wrapped around you, strong and warm, pulling you tight against him as you slumped there, face smushed into his chest. (He smelled so good, and it was so hot and overwhelming, you thought you'd actually die.) 

“Are you okay? Oh my God, did I kill you?” he was babbling, one hand cradling your head, the other patting your back gently. “Babe, don’t pass out on me! I just confessed! This is supposed to be romantic!”

You were dizzy, clinging to his shirt, muffled against his chest as you said, “You… you’re in love with me?” 

“Yes, you silly girl!” he said, laughing hysterically now, still holding you like he’s terrified you’ll pass out again. “Who else would it be? I’ve been drooling over you for years! How did you not see it?”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, and his face was just inches away, his nose brushing against yours. Your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could feel it through his shirt.

“I thought… I thought you meant someone else,” you wheezed, swaying again. “I’ve been dying over here, you asshole!”

He tightened his grip, pulling you closer so you were practically in his lap, his breath hot against your forehead. “Dying? I’ve been dying! You’re the one who’s oblivious! I’ve been flirting with you nonstop, calling you hot, texting you at 1 a.m., staring at your ass when you’re not looking-”

“You WHAT?” you squeaked, smacking his chest weakly, but you’re too light headed to fight back properly.

“It’s a great ass!” he defended, grinning. “Sue me! I’m in love with you, okay? Every clumsy, sexy inch of you!”

Your head spins again, and you slump back into him, whining. “Stop, I’m gonna pass out for real. You can’t just say all that and expect me to be ok!”

“Hey, no fainting!” he said, shifting to hold you tighter, one hand sliding up to cup your face. “I’ve got you, okay? Breathe. Please don’t die before I get to kiss you.”

That snapped you out of it. Just barely. You blinked up at him, and in a daze, asked, “Kiss me?”

“Yeah,” he said, smirking now. “Been dying to do it forever. You're gonna let me, or are you gonna faint again?”

You were a mess at this point - face burning, heart racing.

“Oh my God,” you whispered weakly. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, and you pull this now?”

His eyes widened, then softened into something so tender it made your chest ache.

“Wait, seriously? You’ve been into me this whole time?” he asked, with a little chuckle. 

“YES, YOU IDIOT,”

“Well, fuck.”

And then he kissed you, soft at first, then deeper, and you melted into him, tangling your fingers in his hair. It’s so messy and perfect and so stupidly hot you couldn’t think straight. You were pretty sure you would never recover from this. 

When you finally pulled back, he smiled and said, “So… that’s a yes to going out with me?”

You huffed and buried your face in his neck.

“You're such a moron.”

“Fair,” he laughed, kissing your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you. Starting with more of this.” 

He pulled you back in, and yeah, you’re done. 

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120 @silly250

[bwabys-scenarios]

Making you a mother

Laois x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: this is a request from AO3!! Short but sweet ^^

warnings: big breeding kink, reader gets pregnant, Laois is really insistent on filling you up with his cum, biting, overstimulation

Laois held onto your hips, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulled you close to rub his bulge against your needy pussy. “You’re so pretty…”

His eyes were slightly hazy with lust, and you couldn’t help but whine, rubbing against him desperately. “P-please, Laois! I need it!”

The feeling of his calloused fingers tracing over your belly made you shiver in anticipation. Lately, you had noticed how focused on making sure you were well fed he was, along with fascinated with your tummy.

“Gonna…” he murmured, his fingers pressing down on the fatty part of your belly that protected your uterus. “gonna put a baby there, okay? Gonna…”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, the wet spot in your panties growing. Laois had never talked like that before, you didn’t even think he wanted children…

His thumb rubbed against your clothed clit as his lips pressed against your neck. “You want it? Want me to make you a mommy?”

“P-please…” you managed to choke out through your whimpers and panting. “Need it so bad!”

“Anything for you, sunshine…”

He pulled off your underwear, his cock rubbing against your dripping pussy. Usually he was insistent on eating you out, but today he desperately needed to fill you up with his cum. Laois needed to breed you more than he needed to breathe air.

He pushed in, groaning against your neck as your pussy clenched around him, eager to drain him of all his cum from the get go. “That’s my baby, gonna fill you up, promise…”

Laois fucked into you, biting down on your neck hard enough to have you yelp. But the pain ebbed away into pleasure, and his teeth were replaced with his lips, kissing away at the red mark.

“Sorry, love… can’t help it…”

He was hitting that special spot, making you cry out his name. “L-Laois, please don’t stop!”

Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his back, making him let out a sharp hiss. “Won’t, I promise…”

And he was right. Even hours later, when you were beyond exhausted and stuffed full of cum, he was still hitting that special spot, making you cum on his cock over and over.

“T-too much…” you were being fucked stupid, barely able to speak.

“Shh, you can take it. Gotta make sure it takes…”

He lightly pressed down on your belly, making his cum squirt out of you. Laois pouted a little.

“Looks like I’ll have to go again…”

———————

A few months later, you sat with Marcille as she fawned over your baby bump. “Oh, I can’t wait to be an Aunt! Do you think the baby will call me Auntie Marcille?”

You laughed, glancing at Laois as Falin and him watched the two of you through the doorway. “Probably. Marcille might be a mouthful for a baby though.”

“What about Marcy!?”

Laois and Falin cracked up, causing the blonde elf to blush. “W-what are you two laughing at?”

“Nothing… it just seems like you’re more eager for the baby to come than (Name) and I are.” Laois said, taking you into his arms. His hand brushed over your belly, his thumb rubbing against the bump softly.

Falin smiled warmly. “I think we’re all excited. Senshi has already started mapping out a meal plan for (Name)’s pregnancy.”

“Haha, he said he’ll teach the baby everything he knows, and Chilchuck is already giving me advice,” you said, laughing. “It’s sweet, you know they say raising a child takes a village… you guys are our village.”

Marcille started crying, hugging you. “Oh stop it, I’m going to cry!”

“Dear, you’re already crying.” Falin replied, kissing the top of her head.

You and Laois shared a kiss before he led you away by the hand. “Sorry ladies, but my wife needs a nap.”

Laois curled up next to you in bed, his face nuzzled into your neck. “Rest, my love.”

And you did, curled up with your beloved.