#just a lil short and sweet something or other

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

When he stepped out back for a break, Tango looked up the definition of 'muscle memory' on his phone.

The ability to reproduce a particular movement without conscious thought, acquired as a result of frequent repetition of that movement.

Frequent repetition. Yeah, that was what he thought. Tango sighed, leaning his head against the brick wall and staring up at the sky. Jimmy had mentioned a brief stint in restaurants previously, and it didn't take long for his muscle memory of kitchen tasks to kick in, but there were other habits that came just a little too easily for Tango's liking.

The way he grinned expectantly after teasing or goading them, and looked confused when they didn't insult him back. How easily 'sorry' fell from his lips over and over for the smallest mistake, even for mistakes that weren't his. The way he laughed after getting flustered and fumbling something was adorable, but the oh my gosh, I'm so stupid! that followed was less so. The way he said I'm an idiot with such levity, said it like it was an immutable fact, didn't sit well with Tango.

All habits that came to him easily, like muscle memory. Like the result of something that had happened over and over and over.

It wasn't the first time he had noticed these little habits, but they stood out more now that there wasn't anyone around who was actively teasing him. Before, it had seemed like an act, a call-and-response game Jimmy played with his oldest friends. Now, seeing the response without the call, it just seemed...

When Skizz said you were great, Jimmy! You absolutely crushed it! after a particularly hectic shift, Jimmy's eyes widened with genuine surprise before a grin spread across his face.

"Really?" he asked, a little hesitance in his voice, like he fully expected Skizz to take it back and tell him no, he was awful.

"Really!" said Skizz, but exchanged a glance with Tango. The compliments came thick and fast after that, from both of them, and Tango loved the way Jimmy absolutely thrived under them. He would do anything to protect that smile, and he knew Skizz would do the same.

"Hey. Jimmy."

Jimmy turned to look at Tango while Skizz locked up the building. "Yeah?"

Tango smiled. "You're amazing."

He could see Jimmy's ears flush even under the dim streetlight. "I am, aren't I?" he said happily.

To anyone else the comment might have come across a little cocky, a little overconfident. But Tango heard the hesitance behind it, the uncertain hope of someone finally beginning to realize their worth.

Skizz laughed. "Look at this guy and his well-deserved confidence!" he teased, ruffling Jimmy's hair. He and Tango exhanged another look, this time one of victory rather than concern. "But yeah, you are, and don't you forget it!"

Jimmy beamed. It didn't matter how their shifts in the restaurant went anymore, thought Tango. Angry customers, burned food, broken dishes; he'd get over all of it, as long as Jimmy was smiling like that at the end of the day.

}{ Part Two }{

[liliallowed]

crimson stabbing the guy and them basically murdering each other

then there's the soft careful stitches and very gentile caressing of his skull.

thing is dust GETS that tone shift. he kinda instinctively just would lean into it at first then push them off when it clicks that's them.

they've been at this game for so long that sometimes it's hard for him to associate crimson with "crimson" he knows they're here just to keep him company.

he's so tired he's so tired of continuing to push them away he's tired of resisting... he wants to give up and just let them do whatever they want with him. he's worn out he's rusted he's-

then THEY pull him out of those thoughts themself. they remind him. they encourage him. they push him forward. be it with a small understanding smile or with a light punch on his side.

they would have him rely on them. to lean onto them and close his eyes. to just give in and succumb to the desire to let them be free of consequences.

but only for a moment. it was an unspoken promise. to never let them win. and never let him be lazy. crimson wasn't going to let him slip away. they loved that spark of defiance that energetic flame that unpredictable mind of his.

he'd still rest his head staring back up at them with tired white eye lights.

they'd look down with a smile letting him rest. he felt safe with them.

and maybe this manipulative bastard was actually doing this to make them feel guilty. to make them feel like they'd broken him into obedience.

because he KNEW that's what they feared the most...

or maybe being enemies or friends had stopped having a meaning to him. maybe he just wanted to have something tangible to touch that would not disappeare after talking to him.

maybe he wanted a small sense of warmth after denying it from himself.

after all he deserved this didn't he? they were horrible people that only they deserved each other.

he'd hesitantly turn his head to the side closing his sockets.

the thought of them stabbing him in his sleep was only a distant memory.

he trusted their obsession. he knew they wouldn't dare. he knew they CARED.

and maybe he was the toxic one for pulling their heart strings but they were both at fault and had both indulged in the pain of it.

he'd laugh it off calling them a freak trying to ignore the hypocrite he was.

at least he wasn't the only one.

he didn't want to admit it but he didn't want them gone anymore.

[mochinomnoms]

Please share the lewd interspecies romance.

Okay so mostly I have thoughts over the Octavinelle trio, especially the twins 🫣 but i wrote a lil something for most of them! also this was not meant to be so long idk what happened

[tags] - nsfw, AFAB-implied reader, but written gender-neutral, mentions of ruts/heats, breeding, etc

nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!

If you really compare humans to the nonhuman population of Twisted Wonderland, there's are some small physiological differences between species. Fae, surprisingly, don't differ from humans all too much. Land dwellers in general don't have anything too significant, though all of nonhuman species retain aspects of their animal counterparts.

Most of Savanaclaw goes through some sort of rut/heat during various times in the year, primarily early spring and summer. There's no logical reason for them to retain that aspect of their mating cycle anymore, not for a sentient species that have skills of logic and reasoning. Unfortunately, they didn't get to choose how their evolution worked, and so they have to deal with it in anyway they can.

They get a lot more irritable, they have throbbing headaches, their abdomen hurts, and the scent of their mate is a lot more enticing than normal. Jack probably has it the worst of them, as a wolf beastmen. Not only does he have to deal with a fever-inducing rut that will put him out of commission for a week, afterwards he has to deal with the a/b/o jokes from his classmates too, oh the horror. It is really a horror though when he's able to bend you over his bed, bite marks aligned your neck and back as his dick pounds into you till his knot swells and locks you in for at least an hour. Jack's incredibly embarrassed afterwards, though he manages to be incredibly sweet even after rearranging your guts. Wolf beastmen are one of the most affectionate partners to have with a reputation providing some of the best aftercare for their species. It's most likely to make up for their week-long copulation, stretching and tiring out their sweet little mates. Ooooh, but they'll so very sweet: cleaning up the sticky mess of fluids between your legs with their tongue, careful to not overstimulate you (unless you ask), tending to the mating mark they placed on the back of your neck with soft kisses and licks, and making sure to prop your lower half up to that your chances of taking their seed increases.

Lacking the annual rut/heat that other variants of beastmen have, lion and hyena beastmen are more similar is this regard, as they don't have the same issue of long copulations as wolf beastmen. Neither will initiate sex, rather they'll rely on their mates to do so. Ruggie, in particular, is rather reluctant initiating sex, as male hyenas are typically more submissive, so if you're shy you'll have to get over it. But once you do, Ruggie is ever so happy to service you if you're happy to give him praise. Run your hands through his hair and ears as he eats you out, he'll let out the cutest whimpers and groans as you do. Just, expect to be jellyboned by the time he's done with you, as a hyena he needs to make sure his mate won't snip back at him and you can't exactly do that if your fucked out. While he may not have the same stamina as Jack for week-long fuck session, he has a particularly short refractory period and can have several short sessions in a single night.

Leona also won't typically initiate sex on his own, it happens very sporadically, and he his the image of the lazy lion. While he never wants to do anything particularly extraneous, who is he to deny you needs? You'll have to do some preparing though, as while the barbs on his dick aren't as bad as they are in his animal variant, they will hurt if you're not wet and pliable enough. Be sure to sit on his face, don't worry you won't suffocate him and it's better you cum a few times first before taking him. Unless you want it to hurt? Once you've cum enough times, you can ride him to your heart's content. He only asks that you don't mention how he rubs his head into the crook of your neck, marking you so that if everyone couldn't tell by the sounds coming from his room, they'd know you're his from his scent. Lions are quite protective with their territory and pride after all.

Merfolk have the most extreme physiological differences between them and...any land dweller really. It comes with the territory of being suited for a completely different environment. They also behave a lot more similarly to their animal counterparts, which can be both delicious and exhausting for their humans.

Moray eels don't have a set time of the year they mate, but rather the water must be warm and plenty of food must be ready to provide to their mate. When the spring time weather above the sea starts transitioning from crisp to blazing, don't be too surprised when the twins start handfeeding you meals and snacks throughout the week, they want to make sure you're happy and full for them, getting you in the mood with a sweet, dizzying underwater dance to initiate until they get the okay from you. What's that 'okay' though? You know that yawning I mentioned before? You'll get your answer from them now, as they take your open mouth yawn as an invitation rather than a sign of tiredness. Floyd, in particular, is ready to drag you into the deep part of the pool before remembering that you need to breathe somehow. Not a problem. He'll keep your pretty head above water. You'll still have trouble breathing as his long tapered tongue worms his way in your mouth. No matter, you'll be gasping for breath as he bullies this cock into your hole, large enough that you can physically feel the bump on your stomach. Morays are awfully fond of wrapping themselves around their mates, seeing as Floyd will do his best to tangle his tail around your body and squeezing you as you squeeze down his dick. He loves the physical contact between you two, and is amused how your nails try to dig into his shoulders seeing as the mucus on his skin makes it near impossible to have a steady grasp. You're completely dependent on Floyd as you drool and cry out for relief from the overstimulation, which is oh so ever exciting.

Jade is equally as cruel when it comes to mating. Unlike the others, merfolk tend to mate with the intention to, well, mate. He prefers you to be soft and pliant for him, as well as wholly depending as you two fuck. So, he'll happily brew you a water-breathing potion so he can actually drag you into the deep, where he found a secluded, warm grotto that will allow him to keep you to himself for hours, but close enough to the surface that he can continuously grab you food to eat between sessions. Not that those sessions will be short either. Like his brother, Jade is content to wrap himself around your body as he cooed honeyed words into your ears about how you'll make a wet, warm, soft hole for breeding. It's not like he'll have to do much either, his dick is prehensile and he can wrap himself around you, swiping kisses and nuzzling into the crook of your very sensitive neck while his thick cock continuously pounds into you with a bruising pace. He's so mean!! He likes seeing you cry from overstimulation too, and Jade will continuously scoot down to clean you up with his tongue, only to claim that too much of his seed was gone and he needed to fill you up again for another few hours. He's truly quite incorrigible, especially when he bites into your neck and shoulders to make his claim on you. Don't worry, most morays' bites aren't venomous, and even if they are, you have him to care for you. You're going to be depending on him in the water anyway, so there's no need to worry about it too much.

Something that neither probably won't mention, probably because they won't realize it's something you should know, is that they can change their sex under the right conditions. If you're ever so inclined in the future to test the waters out, the twins might be so generous to let you eat them out instead.

Of the trio, Azul's the only one with an established mating season, two actually: one in the late spring and the other in the early fall. Respectively, one during finals and the other during orientation. He's already so incredibly stressed, and he has the need to breed too? Downright atrocious. It's wonderful that you're so kind that he can take refuge in you and use you like a new octopot, so tell him how pretty he is and how much you love him and only him, so that you have the privilege fucking his merform. The moment you're entering the water, he'll unconsciously display mating signals by flashing soft lilacs and blues, a beautiful display of his need for you. He's rather large, even bigger than the twins, in his merform, so you'll need preparation as well; have no fear, his tentacles are wrapping and kneading the squishiest parts of you. I mentioned before that he can taste the salt on your skin and pulse through your wrist via his suckers. He can taste the slick from your walls, too, without even having to use his mouth as the suckers massage you from the inside. If you'd like, he technically could give you a full flavor profile afterward, though he'll probably be a bit mortified to do so. The biggest difference is his dick, or lack thereof. Instead of a dick, Azul has a hectocotylus, which is a modified, slightly shorter arm of his with a thicker spade-shaped tip that he can practically rearrange your guts with, with little effort on his part really. Most octo-mer variants will keep their mate at a distance, eons of instinct hard to forget. Azul's variant, though, will keep you close, almost dancing with you in a sweet, sensual twirl as he places sweet kissing and bites on your neck, arms, and chest. Octopi are, in fact, venomous, however, so you will be feeling a bit of a lustful high, paralyzed, and a bit helpless to the whims of a needy octopus. He's quite good at aftercare though, making sure you get an antidote and handfeeding you calorie-rich snacks to energize you back up (again, he's aware that you won't eat him, but instinct dictates that he keeps you full with both food and cum to make you a happy mate).

*collapses into heap on floor* thoughts....full.....ahahaha breeding kink go burrrrr. i was not meant to write this much and then it escaped me. also i hate tagging

[onlyswan]

summary: in which there is never enough time to be in love but jungkook is a 24/7 lover. (part one)

idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 3.6k

warnings/content: jungkook takes a day off and surprises oc <3 ; he's veryyy touchy; he gives oc's boobie a lil bite lol this guy ; s*xual innuendos; one (1) spank; oc comforts him :(; bam is home too!!; family is complete

→ in which masterlist!

note: smth short and sweet so i can recover from dreamboat loool missed my babies sm <3 as always reblog and/or feedback is very much appreciated! <3

p.s. i'm also redoing my iw taglist so pls comment/send an ask if you want to be (re)/added!

—

“baby? i’m home.”

you’re confident to say that you’d never mistake jungkook’s voice for anyone else’s. and on that note, you must be dreaming of him— the voice of an angel, the calloused palms cupping your cheeks… the audible and damp kisses delicately being peppered all over your face. everything feels so real. too real. just like how it used to be.

it hasn’t been long since you last saw him. you communicate and meet whenever it’s possible, no matter how short the time he is allowed to dedicate. still, you miss him all the time, everyday. you keep telling yourself it’s not that bad. time is passing by faster than you feared. but this whole set-up is foreign and daunting. and you miss him. you miss him all the time. that must be why you’re dreaming. 

when you open your eyes in the morning, you’ve come to expect nothing more than the view of the plain white ceiling, or the sunlight peeking from behind the curtains. 

so why are you gawking at jungkook’s face?

he smiles from ear-to-ear, bunny teeth and crinkles around his eyes— you can’t be mistaken. it’s him. it feels as though your heart has been shocked and revived. 

“jungkook!” you gasp.

you startle your own self when you abruptly throw your arms around him. he tries to hold you up, but you’re far too ecstatic for your own good, inexplicable joy thrumming in your veins and fireworks bursting in your ribcage. you squeal and jump up and down on the bed like a little kid on christmas morning; jungkook hugs you back tighter than he has ever done before, protecting you from the fall and crash.

“oh my god, you’re here! you’re here!”

“yes, i’m here-” he laughs in amusement. “ow shit, settle down- wow, it’s so early. why are you so energetic-”

“i missed you!” you briefly pause for oxygen. “so much! i’m never letting go of you again!” 

“wow!” he makes a dramatic wheezing sound. “that much, baby? you missed me that much?” 

“that much!” 

you draw back with a pout, just enough so you can look at each other, nodding your head probably too fast— you’re almost dizzy. adrenaline tide calming into waves, you’re catching your breath.

are you certain that this is not your imagination playing tricks on you?

“you’re here…” you slowly say. it’s only registering to your whiplashed brain. there is barely any feeling in your arms as you touch his face, an attempt at separating wishful thinking and reality. “why are you here?”

“why else?” he grins toothily. “because you said you were missing me.” 

your attempt at forming words is rudely interrupted. he steals a kiss, this thief… hard and hungry, keeping you in place by his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. 

he pulls away with a satisfied hum, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “and because i was missing you more.” 

for a moment, you gaze at each other in silence. you’re still neck deep in disbelief and euphoria. that kiss took your breath away. under the circumstances, you shall yield and admit that he misses you more. he requests for developed photos of you when you come visit. that’s something you never imagined you’d have to do. 

he tries to tame your messy hair, smoothing it down until he’s holding your cheeks lovingly. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? i miss waking up to this pretty face everyday.” 

you pucker your lips in response, demanding for a kiss. this earns a chuckle from him before he grants your wish. an unintelligible noise of joy escapes your mouth as you jump and hug him again. it is shortly followed by a yelp when he whisks you off the bed without warning, spinning you ‘round and ‘round… ‘round… and ‘round… and…

your laughter soon transforms into horror. 

“jungkook!” you scream with your eyes squeezed shut and your legs curled around his waist. “okay! stop it! i’m getting dizzy!” 

the crazy bastard keeps on giggling as if he doesn’t hear a thing. you always expect these reunions to be so emotional, but when jungkook is here, it feels as though he never left.  

“jungkook!” 

you hook your leg around his, causing the two of you to collapse on the soft mattress. you land on top of him with a whimper. you breathe out a sigh, relieved that the nausea-inducing ride is over.

“that was fun.” he speaks next to your ear; the sensation makes you squirm. 

“it was,” you push yourself up to search for more air, a little sweaty after yours and jungkook’s hyperness took control of your bodies. “for the first five seconds.” 

you’re now properly straddling him, ass on his crotch. it’s accidental, but nothing new. nay, comfortable. this level of proximity won’t feel like intimacy with somebody else. goddamn, you missed your boyfriend so much. 

a big, sleepy yawn zaps your attention from him. you cover your face with both hands, wandering into the darkness for a little while. you find that your mind is devoid of any thought. perhaps you’re more overwhelmed than you let on. 

“missed this view too…” he reveals amidst the haze, a distinct change in the tone of his voice. 

there they are— the butterflies in his stomach, slaves to you and only you. he breathes through his parted lips as he caresses your thighs with tenderness bleeding from his fingertips, your skin so smooth and soft in contrast to his calloused palms. his lips curve into a drunken smile when you graze his greedy hands, as though granting them permission, before they slip inside the magenta velvet of your night dress. the material bunches over his forearms as he reaches for your hips. it leaves almost nothing to the imagination (in his case: memory). his attention is stolen by your cotton panties. light taupe. decorated by white polka dots. 

“this one’s new.” he comments.

you peer down to figure out what he meant. right, he’s never seen this before. “surprise! you like it?”

“yes, it’s cute.” he toys with the little ribbon at the center of the waistband. “you rarely get this color.”

“thanks. i think my taste is changing.”

“really?”

“mhmm…” 

his hands venture up to your waist, kneading at the flesh and reacquainting with the feel of you. he’s been pissed off at the thought of forgetting what it feels like to touch you, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he hasn’t been away from you for extended periods of time since their last tour. that was years ago. 

for maximum comfort, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “let’s move here.” he carries you with him, back comfortable leaning against the headboard, while you remain sitting pretty on his lap. “bam was sleeping on my side of the bed when i arrived.”

“huh…?” you blink. 

“you didn’t know?”

you shake your head innocently, a tad distracted by your eyes roaming his naked torso. he looks absolutely ravishing as ever. did something already change from the last time you saw him? 

“i tucked him into his bed last night.”

you visited bam at the training facility after work yesterday, but he kept trying to follow you as you were leaving. your fragile heart caved and you brought him home for the weekend. you texted jungkook about it but he didn’t respond; as much as that made you sad, you figured he was just tired or he used his phone time to talk to his family. 

you spent the whole night playing with bam and watching his favorite dog entertainment channel on youtube. the house wasn’t dead silent for once. you fell asleep together on the couch until you woke up at 2am and tucked him and yourself into your respective beds. it was easy to fall back to sleep after, but it felt weird that you didn’t need an audiobook or hours of calming sounds of nature. 

you’re not whining. there have been a lot of sunny and happy days. you have wonderful people in your life who act as your support system in their own unique ways, but jungkook and bam… they’re your family. you made your peace with no longer having one, but now that you’ve built your own, having to be apart from them makes your heart ache. 

“did he sneak in to sleep next to you? he does that now?” he makes a surprised face. “what’s this? i’m so jealous of him!”

a pinch in your heart. 

you try your best to conceal a frown, but your poor choice of words paints your disappointment. “you’re not-” you avoid his eyes. “staying the night?”

“yah, you don’t have to look so sad. i can stay, baby.”

“you can?” your face lights up. 

“for you, i’ll make it happen.” he cheeses, affectionately tapping the tip of your nose like it’s a button to make you smile. “i’m only working hard in there to earn more days off, you know that?”

that makes you frown.

“babe, don’t do that…” you whine, shaking his shoulders. “you don’t need to work so hard. only do what is required of you. i just want you to be healthy.”

“no… just let me.” he replies with finality. “i need… i need a reason. you’re the reason why i’m still hanging in there, and i don’t want to miss another anniversary.” 

he bats his eyelashes. 

“being your boyfriend is my favorite job in the whole world.”

and how are you supposed to argue with one of his most heart-fluttering, most wholesome lines yet? 

you sigh in defeat. “then you can rest when you’re with me.” 

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” 

you lean in to kiss him, but are interrupted when he yawns. your forehead ends up resting against his as you giggle uncontrollably at the unexpected and hilarious view of his open mouth. 

“sleepy?”

he bows his head in embarrassment, body vibrating with laughter. “i couldn’t sleep because i was so excited. i wanted to talk to you last night but i was so sure i’d spoil the surprise.” 

“of course you couldn’t.” you giggle, removing yourself from his lap while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “come here. let’s sleep some more.”

you lie down on the bed facing each other. jungkook moans in contentment as you engulf him in your embrace, nuzzling his face against your chest. he can smell your body wash, sweet and clean. that— that isn’t new. every muscle in his body decompresses. he needed this, needed you. desperately. tremendously. you pull the thick and warm blanket over yourselves and he melts. while he wishes he was taller, he knows he is still of considerable height. he’s been bulking up, getting stronger than before too. but he doesn’t give a fuck about those at the moment. he’s not even aware. his body fits perfectly with yours— that’s all he knows. oh… he’s melting. but it doesn’t feel like he’s being reduced. he has everything to gain. this is heaven on earth.

he opens his eyes into an awful squint, faced by your cleavage spilling out from the neckline of your night dress. there’s this urge he can’t ignore. it’s not spelt out in his mind, he rather feels like his body is having a fit. next thing he knows, he’s carefully sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the swell of your boob. he stays still for a few seconds, and then pulls away once he deems himself satisfied. he wipes your skin with his thumb incase he left some saliva, innocent eyes peeking up at you huffing out a quiet laugh. 

“you sure that’s all you needed?”

“i’ll devour you later.” he smirks, blinking sluggishly. “i’m tired but just you wait. i’ll go all night!”

“not if i beat you to it…” you tease, having plans of your own. you want to make him feel good. you’ve been going insane thinking about it. “missed you.”

“alright then, let’s do it at the same time.” he says suggestively. 

“you know i have a hard time focusing when we do that.” you huff.

“eh, so? not me.” he chuckles. “i think you do a really great job, though?”

“…still! go easy on me a little bit so i can do better.”

“it’s not a competition, baby.” he squeezes your waist affectionately. “plus, i don’t think i’d be able to control myself once i get a taste.”

“jungkook!” you whine, growing flustered. 

he laughs out loud, giving your ass a quick spank that resounds through the walls of the bedroom. 

it becomes silent again after that.

the tip of your nails graze his scalp with repeated movements, more so for your amusement, but he is practically purring. you can’t imagine your arm being a comfortable pillow either, but he is doing great at making it appear so.

“i realized something.”

“what is it?”

“i really can’t live without you.” he confesses earnestly, then looks up at you with raised eyebrows. “don’t say anything. i know you’ll say something like ‘yes, you can!’”

“i was not. i liked hearing you say it.” you stifle a giggle. “but i’m not going anywhere. you know that.”

“i don’t doubt that.” he sighs with a heavy chest. “sometimes i just get a bit worried that you’d get tired of waiting.” 

this isn’t the first time in your relationship that he’s voicing out this fear, but the difference between then and now is stark. with the disconnection, there was a part of you that expected it to resurface. 

“babe,” you gently tilt up his face, locking your sincere and love-filled eyes with his. “we’re okay. i’ve loved you since i was 18. this? this is nothing. you’re a part of me, so you’re always with me. and i know you keep me with you too.”

you wear a brave face. you hope that he believes your words as much as you do, because no matter how many boulders the universe throws down your path, all you ever think about is how you and jungkook will surmount them. together. he is your partner after all.

“we’ll get through it like we always do, baby boy.”

jungkook nods and smiles, doe eyes glittering. you love making that happen. “sorry, i think i scared myself when i read stories on the internet.” 

“our story is different!”

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“no, seriously-” he cackles, a little breathless.

“we’re one of a kind!” you keep the joke running. you want to keep making him laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds longer. 

“we’ve gone through so much bullshit. not everyone would fight as hard as we did!” jungkook passionately agrees with the same intensity. “you’re right, we always make it work. we’ll get through it like we always do.”

“trust me,” you charmingly implore him. “when was i ever wrong?”

“never!” he immediately shakes his head. “…atleast not about the things that matter.”

“okay,” you shrug. “i’ll take it.”

“goodnight kiss, please.” he cutely pleads.

wild guess: he went home to be babied. not that you’re complaining. this is miles better than having to wrestle him over who gets to be the big spoon. you love giving love. when your heart stops beating, it would be great to celebrate how much you were loved, but you also wish to be remembered as a person who gave love until their last breath. 

“goodnight, my love.” you coo, well aware that the sun has risen. 

you plant a tender kiss on his forehead. the complaint bubbling in his throat is swallowed when you lean in closer to reach his lips. with his wish fulfilled, he flutters his eyes closed and snuggles as close to you as possible, real and proper rest finally within his grasp. he basks in your warmth and the tranquilizing silence— his breathing steady and his heart at its calmest. beautiful things enter his mind. you are the sun on the first spring day; the clouds that go with him no matter the distance; the waves that kiss the shore and never fail to come back. he heals in places he didn’t know he was hurting. 

“hold on, where is bam then?”

“his house. i gave him some treats then he slept again…” his voice comes out muffled. he sniffles jokingly. “the reaction was kind of underwhelming. i think he didn’t miss me as much.” 

“of course he’d choose that over a human.”

“i bribed him too early.” he laments.

“wait…” he feels you come to a still. “i think he’s coming.”

he opens his eyes and copies you in focusing on the familiar sound of bam’s paws clicking against the floor. the mattress quakes and he lifts his head to find the dog climbing over your bodies. 

he’s seriously a large and tall dog. 

“bam, what are you doing here?!” 

bam tilts his head and stares back at jungkook, tail wagging as his dad laughs and pets him on the head down to his back. 

“he’s so adorable.” you squeal quietly, joining in and scratching under his chin. “i love you, bam.” 

bam’s eyes switch to you. he slowly lowers his head, giving your hand a tentative lick as if to show appreciation but he’s also worried that it would prompt you to stop.

“he’s gotten real heavy, huh?”

“he’s got some big muscles like you.”

“of course! he got it from me.”

jungkook’s proud smile drops a little. it morphs into pure fondness once bam starts sniffing at him. he yelps and dramatically falls back, wiping his wet cheek with the back of his hand, but it’s game over once bam pants with excitement. bam chases his face to attack him with his love language. 

you watch the scene from the sidelines, laughing so hard that your sides are beginning to hurt. you wish you were recording. you wish that you never forget this. 

“okay, okay! you’re happy to see me! i see that now!” jungkook laughs, squeezing bam in a tight hug for a moment. 

the dog still refuses to relent, however. they almost look like they’re fighting to the death but the truth is they’re just smothering each other with affection. unbeknownst to them, you make a pained face when one of them accidentally hits your arm multiple times. nevermind, they were definitely both culprits. 

“____! save me!” your boyfriend cries out.

he bulldozes through bam and shoves himself into the tiny space he previously, and peacefully, occupied minutes before. he’s squeezing you so tight, nearly crushing you as he laughs with tears in his eyes. they affectionately call it his elmo laugh, the fans, which you adore just as much. 

you see it before you hear it. bam makes that face when he’s about to bark. your hush comes out at the same exact second as his barking. 

“this is so chaotic!” you try to project your voice louder than everybody else’s. 

jungkook’s laughs quieter but harder, if that makes any sense. 

you have an arm around jungkook that holds him taut and protected, while the other is busy with getting bam to settle down. you slide your palm across his fur in repeated motions, focusing on the spots that cause his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“shhh, bam. it’s still too early. let daddy rest first. we can tire him out again later, okay?”

he settles on top of your bodies again. he has stopped moving around, but then he makes that face again, and you really love your healthy sense of hearing. 

“behave, bam-” you playfully squeeze his cheeks together before scratching under his chin. “my cutie bam. you can do that for me, right? you’re a good boy! i’m sure you understand.”

he abandons the urge to bark, suddenly fixing his position so you can also scratch at his chest. you almost snort at how funny he looked obeying you on accident because he is begging to be petted.

“that’s right. good job, bam.” you coo, sending him a pleased smile. “you’re so smart. you listen so well.” 

you whisper to jungkook. “it’s so cute when it looks like he really understands what i’m saying.”

“it’s the way you talk to him.” he answers quietly, placing tiny kisses along your collarbone. “you’re so sweet.” he almost forgot how good you are with bam. he just fell in love with you all over again. 

“but it’d be cooler if he does understand me.” you hum, moving your hand on bam’s head. he finally decides to flop down then. he rests his head over your waist, eyes seemingly inching closer to sleepiness. you sigh in relief. “go to sleep too, baby.”

jungkook breaks the silence a moment later.

“…did you mean me or bam?”

“you!” you chuckle. 

“oh-” he laughs at his own foolishness. his arm that is supposed to be hooked around your waist rests over bam’s body instead. he ruffles the dog’s fur softly. “let’s all go to sleep.”

you let out a yawn in response to that. you sniffle, murmuring tiredly. “i love you, baby… your surprise made me so happy. i’ll make it up to you too.”

“i love you more…”

jungkook lifts his head and finds that you have closed your eyes. your chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm. bam is closely following you into dreamland. 

heavens, what he wouldn’t give so he could stay here forever and never leave again. 

his eyes are heavy with exhaustion, hot with sleepy tears, but he fights his own body to stay awake. with all his might, he gazes in awe at the beauty of a life with you. he wants to always remember what is waiting for him at home.

[esoteriamaya]

Astro Notes : Short N Sweet - The power lilith holds <3

Lilith in the 1st - Very strong personalities. Gifted in using the eyes to seduce others. Magnetic. Can fight the demons off of you so please be weary of getting to close if you don't want them to see what hides beneath the surface. There angelic, believe it or not. They're not here to see the world as you see it, they have a taboo personality, yes, but its also because they must learn how to live for themselves and not for anyone else.

Lilith in the 2nd - Cash cow. Can basically get any man to give them what they want. They have to be comfortable in getting under peoples skin, because they can trigger people with how they talk. Insensitive? Not exactly. Just doesn't budge and cares to be 'nice'.

Lilith in the 3rd - Creative freaks. Can use the mind in a million ways, but they still seek out one thing that works for them as they are very passionate people and whatever keeps their attention the most they'll go at it forever. They are use to the attention from people since primary school. So they like to hide a lot. They have a weird mind and they don't care to share it with too many people. If they ever considered writing, they could make some pretty interesting stuff. Sibling rivalries are a thing here.

Lilith in the 4th - Tumulous relationships with family & friends. It's because they're the outcast of the group. I mean, they know a lot and they can't stand for nothing but the truth. But sometimes the truth kills, even when they don't mean for it to be. Can be a hard knock life but they make it worth something. They're no angel, just the universe in the flesh. <3

Lilith in the 5th - Captivating presence. Lovely auras, and amazing bodies. Could be good at dancing. Could be a lil promiscuous. Could be a little dangerous. You never know. Secretive/private about their affairs.. But the stories they have I promise you its like reading a novel. Naturally sensual & can't get enough of them, even if you tried ;)

Lilith in the 6th - Goes hard for groups that aren't seen enough. Can have jealous coworkers or people who want to annoy them and get them out of character. Could also have sensual experiences with co workers. Demands compensation. Could be extremely well liked or hated no in between.

Lilith in the 7th - Spicy individuals. People love to hate them. Could have bisexual allegations from time to time. Most people like to be around them but despise them after a while. Sweet as a pie though, most people allow the rumors to get to them but usually these people are naturally sweet and empathetic. Popular loners.

Lilith in the 8th - Strong personalities. Capable of seeing beyond the veil. Has issues with society due to their daring nature but they do come out ready and swinging. Hypnotic presence. Can heal as much as they can poison, so be careful wit em ;)

Lilith in the 9th - Very beautiful spirits who are the epitome of being carefree. The universe takes them wherever their hearts want to go, and the journey is always something that last a life time. Being connected to someone with this placement could give you the feelings of something amazing. Always hold their hand tight because once their gone its over.

Lilith in the 10th - Dreamy auras. Have a knack for the public and the audience can feel their raw energy. Have haters from all area codes, this just makes them more confident. They know how to appease society well, and they can take on roles that others are too afraid to. This is great placement for lilith to be in.

Lilith in the 11th - Could had to fight to keep their self esteem in check. Due to being outcasted alot, they could of been the scapegoat for a lot of reasons that didn't pertain to them much. With time, they learn to accept that their energy isn't for anyone, and that their value is more than what you can define it. Helpful sweethearts who just wants to be around community that gets them.

Lilith in the 12th - The dream world is a nightmare. My apologies to y'all cause I'm suppose to start it off a little sweet. But this is placement of a witch/warlock. You guys have many gifts that go past the ordinary. And you more than likely come up with some ish down the line. There is a time where you will undergo a lot of spiritual refinement to keep your head going. Don't be afraid of what shows up, it might teach you something!

[oreo-creampie]

𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭: Your friendship with Kenjaku, Satoru, and Suguru gains some benefits.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: train/passing you around, size kink, collar/leash, praise/degradation/mocking/teasing, pain kink, sweet mean dom!geto, sweet sadistic dom!kenjaku, sweet mean dom!gojo, hints of jealousy, choking w and without the with leash, spanking, spitting, dacryphilia double stuffing the same hole, triple penetration, hints of cock warming, begging, overstimulation, mindbreak, friends with benefits, possessive kenjaku with talk of a punishment, squirting, vibrator, creampies

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 15 minutes / 4.3k

oreo: @arminsumi you have me the nugget of encouragement I needed thank you and that last post I reblogged from you had me thinking which is how gojo found his way into his post and into your pussy (don't look at my shame, ignore the posting date i'm sorrryyyyy)

Kenjaku bends over in front of you, blocking the Tv, dangling your spiked collar in front of your face. The leash coiled around his other hand. Smirking at you, “Our lil princess grew up into a beautiful slut.” Grabbing the back of the sofa, towering over you.

“What? You gonna do something about it?” Trying to snatch it from Kenjaku, standing up and holding your collar above his head. Standing up on the sofa, yanking it from him. He wraps an arm around your waist, swinging you around.

Wrapping your legs around his waist. "Do you want me to?" He had always been so tall, but never this thick. Clinging to Kenjaku it's impossible to ignore his brawny arms, fat pecs, and sculpted abs. He's gotten so muscular in the five years you've spent apart.

"Yes." Slipping your finger into his soft dark hair. Grown to his shoulders and buzzed on the side. Showing a beautifully done tattoo of spiders crawling out of his skull. Sliding your hand down his pec, glancing over at Suguru stretched out on your sofa,

Satoru comes up behind you, slipping the collar from your fingers. “Aw is it just him ya want?" Wrapping the collar around your neck, fastening it. "Wanna slut your pretty ass out for Sug and I too?" Looking up, Satoru is close, towering over you.

"Anytime anywhere, my safe word is beans." Grabbing the back of head Satoru's head, lightly dragging your nails over his undercut. He leans in for a rough kiss, parting your lips for his tongue.

Kenjaku bites your shoulder, groaning, sinking in his teeth until you're crying into Satoru's rough, needy kiss. Cupping your ass. tugging on the leash. Being sandwiched between Kenjaku's and Satoru's hard, muscular chests has you soaking through your underwear.

Suguru gets up from the sofa, slipping his black sweater off. "It will be easier to triple-stuff our whore on her bed." Satoru breaks away, and Kenjaku slaps your ass, squeezing a handful. Crying from the sweet stinging pain. His thick fingers massaging your ass doing little to soothe the burning.

Biting Kenjaku's neck, he moans, it's breathy and going straight between your legs. He croons, "Is that the hardest you can bite, how cute." Biting down harder, your wet cunt clenching around nothing when Kenjaku whines.

Tugging on his inky black hair. "That's it, bite me harder n' mark me." Your fingers glide out of Satoru's hair when he pulls away. Wrapping your arm around Kenjaku's shoulders. Kissing the red bite mark, sinking in your teeth right above, sucking on his skin.

He trails behind Satoru and Suguru heading towards your headroom. "At least I won't have to hear you endlessly gush about how badly you want to fuck her when we get home." Kenjaku gently rubs your cunt through your shorts. Having his fingers so close yet not being able to feel him is torture.

Satoru nudges your bedroom door open, turning on your overhead light. Looking at Suguru with a large grin. "Oh you think this is going to shut me up. You should know me better than that." He makes quick work of his clothes alongside Suguru.

Breaking away from Kenjaku's neck, "Speaking of home how much longer do I get the pleasure of seeing all of you." Gently laying you on your back, letting go of the leash letting it pool next to you.

Your chest aches and your wet cunt throbs. "I missed ya'll so much seeing everyone on my phone isn't enough." Looking into Kenjaku's dark chocolate eyes, they have gotten so cold over the years. Seeing them warm up with a needy, hungry passion your heartbeat in your cunt.

"We know, we missed ya too that's why we moving into a place here together." Kenjaku grabs your shorts, easily tugging them off, momentarily lifting your hips off the bed. Tossing it onto the floor.

Your bed dips underneath Suguru and Satoru's weight when they climb on, kneeling on either side of you. Your eyes widen, "You did! That's not fair, all of you are living together without me!" Satoru and Suguru grab an arm lifting you upright. Shifting onto your knees, holding your arms up.

Satoru drops the leash through the collar of your shirt. "Our slut wants to see us walk around in our underwear, hear our rough sleepy voices, and climb into our beds at night." Those two words ring over in your head in Satoru's smooth playful voice.

Their slut.

Kenjaku slips his long-sleeved shirt off. Shifting closer towards the edge of the bed. Unbuttoning his ripped jeans, biting in between his v lines. Roughly yanking them down with his underwear.

The answer is easy to give. "You'll never be able to get rid of me." Pushing his pants down for him to step out of, kicking aside. You take a moment to take in the body-length piece depicting a war between angels and demons.

Kenjaku confesses, "We've been your's from the beginning." Following the trail of carnage from his pecs along his hard slim waist. "Listening to you rant about mediocre men who have failed to get you off has been infuriating." Passing by his cock, wrapping your fingers around Kenjaku. Swiping your thumb over his cock, leaning over to spit on his cock. Smearing it with a swirl of your hand.

Spreading your legs when Satoru grabs your ass, jiggling it before giving you a harsh smack. "Knowing that in three minutes between your legs n' I can have you calling me God. You say you aren't letting you go, I'll baby trap you givin' the first chance." Nudging his finger into your wet cunt fucking his long thick finger into you.

Kenjaku grabs the leash, coiling some of it around his hand. "We are picking out another collar, I want you to wear it everywhere." Your cunt is soaking, dripping down your thighs aching with a throbbing need to cum.

You're blaming it on how cunt throbbingly beautiful Satoru, Suguru, and Kenjaku are with their mouthwatering pretty cocks. "I thought I got over ya'll. This isn't fair." Satoru bites your ass, and you moan from the sweet pain.

Grabbing Suguru's fat cock, taking him in your mouth, pumping your hand along Kenjaku's cock. He suggests, "I could look for a place with two extra rooms. One for you to sleep in, the other to fuck you in." Groaning when you pump your fist faster.

"Fuck I've been wanting to do this for too many years." Biting your ass, groaning, curling his fingers. your cunt flutters when he grazes your sweet spot. Satoru glides in a second finger, clenching him.

"Such a sexy little cunt, she's going to be gapping and dripping cum when we're done." Replacing his long thick fingers with his tongue with a loud groan. You push your hips back, trying to sit on Satoru's face.

He reaches around stroking your sensitive clit. "Dirty slut getting off on taking three cocks. One isn't enough for a pretty greedy cunt like yours huh?" Slapping your sore ass, groaning around Suguru's cock, your steady pace faltering. He grabs your head stuffing his cock in deep. Your nose touching his short dark hair above.

Kenjaku insists, "We can get her on her back so we can all get a taste of her pretty cunt." Suguru glides his cock out of your mouth. Satoru bites your thigh, stuffing two fingers into your cunt. Curling them messaging your g-spot until Kenjaku yanks on your leash, pulling you out of Satoru's grasp.

Whimpering when Satoru tugs on your thigh, not letting go easily. "Nn that felt too good." Suguru slaps your ass. "Smacking me around more, make my slutty ass sore n' use my sloppy wet cunt." Kenjaku climbs onto the bed, yanking you onto your bag and dragging you towards the top of your bed.

Suguru props the pillows up, grabbing underneath your shoulders, sitting you up. Spreading your legs, Satoru leans in for a sloppy kiss you can taste yourself on. Sliding your fingers over his short soft undercut into his fluffy hair.

Wrapping your fist around Suguru's cock, slide your fist down. Getting off on how hard yet soft feeling of his heavy cock. His puffy veins occasionally pulse making his head slightly twitch.

Kenjaku lays down on the bed, biting your thigh, stroking your clit with his large thumb. Whining into Satoru's kiss, getting sloppier, rougher, fondling your breasts. Tugging on your nipple's barbell, making your clit tingle too.

Letting you go, slapping your beautiful wet cunt. Gliding two fingers into your cunt with a loud squelch, sucking on your sensitive clit. Ripping through the sweet stinging pain with toe-curling pleasure. He doesn't take long to find your g-spot.

Suguru groans, rutting his hips, his thighs trembling. "Nnn keep stroking my cock like that." Satoru pulls away standing up and covers your face with his balls. Shallowly stroking his cockhead, coxing thick white pre-cum out.

Opening your mouth sucking Satoru's balls, the pace of your hand swirling along Suguru's fat, heavy cock. "Cock hungry whore, nnnfuuuck I can't get enough suckin' on my balls like that. It would feel even better to fuck your pretty mouth sore." Sticking your tongue out when he lifts his balls off your face.

Tilting your head back, looking up at Satoru. With a quick smooth stroke stuffing his cock deep into your mouth. His jaw-dropping with a loud moan. "Wanna take a picture of your pretty lips wrapped around my cock." Quickening his pace with his deep strokes, gagging you easily without even giving you all of his long cock.

Kenjaku pumps his fingers faster, his tongue's bar stroking your clit perfectly. Your hand falters around Suguru's cock. He grabs your wrist to hold your hand still for him to glide his cock through.

You aren't doing anything. Getting off on how they are helping themselves to your mouth, hand, and sloppy wet cunt. Creaming on Kenjaku's fingers, your sensitive cunt spasming around him. He doesn't break the steady pace of his thick fingers, focusing on your sensitive spot.

Biting your thigh when you try to twist your hips away. "Stay still whore I'm not done." Stroking your clit with his pierced tongue at a steady slow pace. Gliding in a third finger, pumping them into you with loud lewd squelches.

Groaning around Satoru's cock he stops forcing you to take all of him. Suguru states, "That's one, I want you to keep count of how many times we get your pretty little cock sleeve to cum." Satoru glides his cock out with a soft pop, moving aside.

Pathetically whining when Satoru bites your tit, flicking your nipple with his tongue. "I can't get over how they're pierced, gonna get you some pretty chains to tug on." Rubbing your other pierced nipple, hooking his fingers around the bar tugging. Then gently stroking small slow circles.

Twisting your hips away crying, Kenjaku is relentless with a pierced tongue and thick fingers. Fucking your past your high, sucking on your clit with loud groans. Biting your thigh, sitting up wrapping the chain of your leash around your neck.

"I'll tighten it every time you try to pull away until you're too weak to move." Kissing your forehead, switching places with Satoru. On his knees admiring your soft, beautiful body. Dipping his head between your legs, grinding his hips into the bed.

Squeezing Satoru's head with your thighs. Your clit is too sensitive for the steady quick strokes of his soft tongue. His thick fingers nudge your soaking wet cunt, gliding in, curling stroking your cunt. It doesn't take him long to find your sweet spot.

Kenjaku tugs on the leash tightening it around your neck. Grabbing your hand, spitting in your palm then guiding you to his cock. Smearing your spit with slow swirling strokes.

Suguru lets your hand go, letting you stroke him. Grabbing your thigh, pulling it into his lap. Kenjaku does the same with his other leg. Together they are keeping your legs spread apart for Satoru to suck on your clit and fuck two thick, long fingers into you.

Suguru grabs your chin, turning and tilting your head up. Leaning in for a kiss. Parting your lips for his pierced tongue. His kiss starts off slow and soft. Groping your chest, gently rubbing your nipple. Groaning into your mouth.

Kenjaku shifts in his seat, grabbing your wrist and gliding it off his cock. "What am I sitting on?" Reaching not far underneath the pillow pulling out a vibrator. Smiling, "Here Toru use this."

Satoru pulls away with a soft pop, gliding his fingers out. Taking the toy from Kenjaku. Biting the nipple Suguru isn't playing with. Groaning when you writhe. Pulling away slapping your cunt to make you jerk back.

Kenjaku tightens the chains around your neck. Satoru glides his fingers around it. Admiring how it's painfully digging into your skin beneath the collar proclaiming you their slut. "I'm staying, Look me in my adorable face after this and kick me out. I bet you cuddles that you can't."

Satoru gets off the bed toy in hand to grab his pants and slips his phone out. Kenjaku nudges three fingers into your cunt. Your hand around his cock going limp. You're too weak to move from the lack of air.

Taking a picture of Suguru making out with you. With Kenjaku fucking his thick fingers into your sloppy cunt. You're soaking your sheets. "Send it in the group chat." Tossing his phone aside onto the bed, holding the toy to your clit. Turning it onto its strongest setting.

Suguru breaks away, Kenjaku glides his thick fingers out holding them to your lips. You barely have the strength to open your mouth. Roughly stuffing fingers into your mouth. You can't suck, too limp and tingly, dark spots dancing in your vision.

Kenjaku unwraps the chain around your neck. Gliding his fingers along the indent left behind. Loudly breathing it, soothing burning lungs. You can feel the rapid pounding of your heart in your dripping wet cunt.

Steadying your breathy, your voice is raspy and breathy when you whine, "Fuck fuck fuck." The intensity of pulsing is too much for you. Curling your toes, your thighs trembling, cunt clenching, slick dripping soaking into your bedsheet.

Suguru stands up putting his cock in your face. Stuffing his thick, veiny cock into your mouth in a quick thrust. Gagging you with short, deep strokes until you're crying. "This is the only time I want to see you sobbing. You're so damn sexy choking on my fat cock." Gliding his cock out, smacking your cheeks, stuffing himself back into your hot wet mouth.

Admiring how your lips look gliding along his cock with a deep moan. Holding your head still by a fistful of hair. Steadily fucking your mouth, making you cry with spit dripping down your chin, smearing onto his balls.

Satoru swirls the toy on your soft clit. Spreading your lips apart with his fingers to record how your cunt spasms around nothing. Sinking two fingers, massaging your sweet spot. Groaning around Suguru's cock.

Kenjaku holds your hand out flat, spitting into it. Wrapping your soft fingers around his thick veiny cock. You swirl your hand down, his heavy cock drooping to the side on top of your wrist. Your cunt flutters around Satoru's fingers when Kenjaku groans.

Adding a third long thick fingers, your sloppy wet hot tight cunt squelches with each pump. "Squirt for me mama, lemme see your pretty super soaker gush. Show me goof I'm makin' her feel." Biting your thigh, sucking and swirling the toy on your clit.

Suguru glides his cock out. Grabbing his cock, lifting his head up to kiss him. "Fuck like my cock that much." Trailing soft kisses along a puffy vein. Sucking on his soft balls. Pumping your hand along Kenjaku's thick, veiny cock faster.

Swiping your finger over his thick head, smearing pre-cum. "Go ahead and make a pretty mess for us beautiful." Licking up Suguru's cock, wrapping your lips around his fat head. Softly licking his head, tasting him.

Rutting his hip, stuffing his cock deep into your mouth. Gagging you till fresh tears spill down your cheeks. Groaning, stuffing the last inch of his cock into your mouth. Grabbing your headboard, holding onto the back of your head.

"You look so fuckin' sexy with my cock stuffed so deep." Gliding his tongue till the tip is about to slip out. Groaning when you swipe his head with his tongue. "I wonder how your beautiful cunt looks taking my fat cock." Roughly fucking your mouth, his balls hitting your chin.

You're creaming on Satoru's fingers, he doesn't stop. The peak's intensity becomes overwhelming as it grows. You can't remember to stroke Kenjaku's cock. He pumps your hand around his cock.

Satoru croons, "We can double stuff our lil slut, use her like a cock sleeve till we bust a nut. Ya got tighter around my fingers. Want Sug and I to double stuff your cunt. Whoever cums second it gonna fuck the first deeper into you." Squirting on Satoru's fingers, he stills the toy on your clit.

Steadily pumping his fingers, fucking you through your high. Gliding his fingers out, dipping his tongue in to taste you with a groan. Yanking your hips back, he swirls the toy on your oversensitive clit.

Pleasure boarders on painful. You're quivering tears trickle down your cheeks. Satoru lazily pumps his tongue, groaning. Stretching his long, muscular body out on your bed. Grinding his cock on your soft sheets. Suguru glides his cock out of your mouth. Sitting down next to you.

Satoru grabs your hair pulling you onto your knees. Forcing Kenjaku to let go of your hand. Slapping your ass as Satoru pulls your shorter soft beautiful body on top of his. Getting on his knees, getting next to your head. Grabbing your hair, pulling your head back, and slapping your face.

"Stupid sluts like you get triple stuffed." Sticking out your tongue looking into Knejaku's beautiful face. Satoru grabs your jaw making you face him.

"You can have her mouth in a minute. I'm recording what expression our beautiful slut's face makes when we stuff our cocks in." Satoru picks up his phone, capturing your beautiful face on screen.

His cock is trapped with your sensitive clit and soft lips. Grinding your hips, smearing your slit on Satoru's cock. Biting your lip, your soft clit drags along a thick vein. You can feel his pulse. Lifting your hips for him to reach between grabbing his cock and lifting it for you to sink your soaking wet cunt down on.

Taking Satoru's warm cock head when he grabs your hip planting his feet and slamming you down. Moaning, your jaw drops, clenching his side with your thighs.

Kenjaku grabs his cock jerking himself off next to your face. "I'll have to screenshot something for my phone's background." Pinching your nipple, softening when you whine. His gentle strokes soothe some of the ache.

Satoru croons, "You sound hot cryin' like that." Enjoying how deep he's reaching, stroking your sweet spot before touching your cervix. Suguru nudges your stuffed cunt with his cock, getting just his fat head in. Admiring how your cunt stretches, his cock vanishing inside you.

Your warm, soft soaking wet cunt is so tight, pressing him against Satoru's longer cock. Slimmer than his own he's stretching you out more. His head stopped just below Satoru's. Your tight cunt makes Satoru's cockhead overlap.

"Fuck the pretty faces you made taking our cocks is gonna make me bust too quickly." Satoru ends the video tossing his phone aside. Letting Kenjaku grab your hair twisting your head forcing you to look up at him. Sptting on your cheek, smearing it with his cock before stuffing your mouth.

Suguru and Satoru time their thrust, stroking your sweet spot with Satoru's head hitting your cervix. Not giving you another moment to get used to them. Suguru's soft breathy moans mix with Satoru's needy whines.

Kenjaku's fat cock muffles your cries. "Pretty little crybaby slut." Dropping your leash, pushing his hair out of his face with a swipe of his hand. Clenching Suguru and Satoru's cocks.

"Three cocks enough for ya? One of us is bound to be free when your greedy little cock sleeve needs to be filled." His large balls smack your spit-covered chin. "Touch anyone else and you're not sitting down right for days. I'll make you count every hit to your sweet ass." Fucking your mouth rougher, grabbing his thigh.

Digging your nails into Kenjaku's muscular thigh." That's it my pretty slut cry for me." Smiling down at you, "I'll edge you till I cum then leave you wanting till the next day. Won't even let you cum during aftercare, and if you touch yourself, you're not getting my cock for a month." Gliding his cock out of your mouth with a soft pop.

Using however long you got to catch your breath. Moaning when Kenjaku smacks you roughly across your face. Satoru groans "What dumbass our cock drunk lil slut is getting off being smacked around in bed? What other fucked up things would you let us do?" Rutting his hips faster, messing up the pace he's kept with Suguru.

Kenjaku stuffs your mouth full of his thick cock, roughly pumping his hips. Keeping a steady pace. "We should rent a place in the middle of the woods and find out. It won't matter where we fuck her."

Satoru slides his large warm hands up your sides. "I could pin you against a tree and fuck my cum into you after skinny dipping." Cupping your breasts, swirling his thumb over your nipples.

Suguru grabs your wrists twisting your arms behind your back with one hand. Smacking your ass repeatedly till you're jerking your hips away trembling. "Is six all you can handle? Pathetic." Slapping your stinging cheek two more times before massaging your soft sore cheek.

"We can raise her pain tolerance make her our perfectly trained painslut who begs for our cocks." Kenjaku groans, his hips shuttering. "Keep cryin' like that and I'll have to cum in your mouth." Fucking your mouth faster, tightening his grasp on your hair when his legs tremble.

Satoru grabs your sides, digging his nails in. Whining beneath you, his pace getting sloppy. Thick warm cum spurts deep in your tight, sloppy wet cunt. Satoru's thrusts flatter. He lifts up biting down on your shoulder.

Suguru fucks you harder, faster, stuffing Satoru's cum deeper into you, stroking his cock. Getting off on your soft cunt squeezing him tighter and the warmth of Satoru's cum. He lets your wrists go, grabbing your leash, and tugging on your collar.

Kenjaku's firm grasp keeps your head from moving. Steadily fucking your mouth not caring about your need for air. Causing your body to become tingly and limp, your head foggy. There is no need to think about anything. You just need to feel their warm hard cocks fucking into you until they cum.

Cumming on Suguru's cock pushing him over the edge. He sloppily fucks his cum into you. "Cum in her cunt." Kenjaku glides his cock out of your mouth, pumping his cock. Suguru lifts you off Satoru's cock, holding you up with your legs spread, pulling his cock out.

Satoru moves out of the way, getting off the bed and heading into your bathroom. Turning on the water.

Kenjaku moves in front of you, lining himself up and giving you his fat cock in one quick rough thrust. Jolting, your eyes widening and your toes curling. Wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders slipping your fingers into his soft hair. Tugging on it, pulling him in for a rough, passionate kiss.

Parting your lips for his pierced tongue. Laying you down when Suguru gets off the bed, his heavyweight pressing you into the bed. Digging your nails into his back, giving him several thin pink lines that will be there for days.

Pulling away, grabbing the toy on the bed, turning it on, holding it to your clit. "You're my dirty lil slut n' you're gonna take my cum like a good whore aren't you?" Swirling the toy on your puffy, sensitive clit. It's too much, you're trembling.

"Please cum please cum please cum! Sir please. daddy sir Kenjaku please cummmm." Clenching his cock, trying to push him over the edge quicker. "It's too much nnnn can't, can't, want to feel you cum. Please!" Smiling when you feel his a quick pulse in the veins of his fat cock.

Spasming around him cumming too quickly from his thick cock splitting your sensitive cunt open fucking Satoru's and Suguru's cum deeper into you. "NNn fuck that's it sexy mama needed to feel her cumming on my cock to get me off." Thick warm cum trickle from his cock. Smearing with every steady stroke.

Kenjaku takes the toy off your clit, turning it off and setting it aside. "Beautiful princess I'm proud of how well you did for your first time with us. What do you want for your reward?" Leaning down gently kissing your forehead.

"Cuddle pile? Don't take you cock out just yet." Smiling softly at you, your cheeks heat up from the admiration in Kenjaku's brown eyes. Lifting you off the bed, hiding your face in his neck.

He keeps his cock in, holding onto you, arranging the pillows before turning around. Sitting with you straddling his hips, he gently strokes your back.

Suguru comes back with a clean wet hand towel. "Look at me beautiful, let's get your pretty face clean." Satoru climbs onto the bed next to Kenjaku and you. You can't look any of them in the eyes. Kenjaku undoes the clasp of your collar and you pull away. Sliding your hands down his thick pecs, keeping your attention on his hard abs.

Satoru croons, "Aw what this did we fuck our princess into being shy again? Do we need to fuck it outta ya?"

oreo creampie's m.list

[eddieandbird]

Slow and Careful —

You have your first time with Eddie.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the love on my last story! This one is a request by @wdsara48 and I hope yall like it! I got a lil carried away w this one so its a lil longer - Bird

tags/warnings: f!reader | smut | 3.2k words | inexperienced!reader | consent checks | slight humor | f*ngering | pinv | protection used | praises and nicknames

———

“Stop looking at me like that,” You grumbled with your knees pressed into your chest.

“What? I think you look pretty. I think it’s adorable you dressed up for me,” Eddie’s eyes glinted at you as he held his head in his hand, the other tracing small circles into the sheets beneath you.

“What are you talking about?” Your mouth hung open, feigning offense.

“This,” Eddie pulled your bra strap with his middle finger, lightly snapping it against your skin. “Did you buy these cute matching undies just for me?”

“You wish,” Your nose and mouth crinkled as you tried to fight a smile.

“Oh, whatever. You were the one who asked me to give you your first time,” He chuckled, scratching his stubbled cheeks.

“Because I trust you,” You said, slightly more serious. Your appreciation for him was clear in your heavy-lidded eyes.

Eddie moved closer to you, gently cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb against your jawline.

“You do?” he murmured, feeling his heart beat wildly against his chest as he admired your affectionate expression. He sprinkled kisses on your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips.

You leaned into his fluttering touches with a silent laugh. “Of course I do, baby,” Your voice was sweet and breathy.

Even with the jitters of your first time looming over your head, it hardly threatened to ruin the moment. Something was intoxicating about being in his room, the faint smell of his cologne and weed smoke put you in a trance. Plus you knew Eddie would treat you with the utmost care.

He shot you a quick, mischievous look. His arms were placed on either side of your body, now towering over you. “So you’re saying I can do whatever I want?” He quipped, believing the joke was obvious to you.

Your breathing picked up as you watched him hover. It’s not like you didn’t trust him, but this was a big deal to you. It was no longer just an adorable conversation you were having with him on the drive home, you were actually in his bed, moments away from losing your virginity.

“Well, maybe not whatever you want,” A nervous laugh came out of you when you caught a glimpse of his strong gaze.

Seeing you suddenly grow tense, Eddie’s face quickly softened towards you. With a chuckle, he reached down and tapped his index finger to your nose. “Relax, sweetheart. How about this; When I touch you, I’ll keep checking in, yeah? And you can tell me to stop at any time, I promise,”

You closed your eyes and exhaled into a feathery laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” You jokingly groaned.

“Let’s just go slow, yeah?” You had an encouraging smile on your face as you reached up to twirl one of his loose curls between your fingers.

“Slow and careful,” Eddie echoed, his smile growing as he admired the way your skin looked in the dim lighting. He loved the way the sheets pooled around your hips, and the thin fabric of your underwear made the shape of your legs all too obvious to him. His pupils dilated as he drank in the sight of you.

“Good,” You confirmed.

“God, baby, you’re so pretty,” Eddie’s hands moved down your body, tracing your skin with his fingertips and leaving gentle goosebumps in his wake. His gaze never left your face, checking for any signs of discomfort or fear.

“No, you,” You retorted with a bashful smirk.

“Don’t sell yourself short, now. We can both be pretty,” Eddie chuckled. The warm light of the room looked amazing against his skin, you were mesmerized. “You mind if I get rid of these?” he asked, referencing your underwear with a tug.

“Not at all,” You lifted your pelvis, helping Eddie with taking them off.

He made a shooting noise as he pulled the elastic of your panties and snapped it across the room, making it land in his hamper. You both broke for a moment to laugh.

“Oh my god, of course you made that,” You shook your head, still laughing.

“Hey, you gotta admit that was pretty cool,” Eddie winked before licking at his smile. He made a mental note that you were laughing more than usual, which he took as a sign that his efforts to keep you calm were working.

“Okay yeah, fine, it was kinda cool,” You playfully shrugged, not wanting to give him too much satisfaction.

He was so good at making you feel comfortable, he made you forget for a moment that your sex was completely bare in front of him.

“Of course it was,” Eddie grinned down at you. He slowly moved his body closer to yours, the warmth of his skin sending tremors across your body.

“Are you ready, gorgeous?” he asked, carefully placing his hands on your knees. He gently spread them apart, his breath becoming more deliberate as he got closer. “And remember our deal okay?”

You nodded rapidly. “You got it,”

You dreamily laid your head on your shoulder. A breathy moan escaped you as he lingered over your hips. You passed a hand through his hair, admiring his eager face as it was framed in your thighs.

“That’s my girl,” The grin Eddie gave you along with his sugary praise made your heart swell. “You ready for me to make you feel good?” Eddie mumbled before placing a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh.

“Um, yeah. Yes,” You croaked, hiding the disappointment in yourself. You felt like dirty talk came out of Eddie so naturally. It all sounded so good to you, but when it came time for you to reciprocate, it felt like a flurry of awkward mumbles and head nods.

“Yeah? You’re so cute,” Eddie grinned, his nose ghosting over your skin. His hands slid along the backs of your thighs, rubbing up and down in soothing motions. He kept the pace slow, waiting for any sign that you wanted more. “Do you want me to touch you, baby?”

You nodded even more desperately now. “Please?”

“Your wish is my command,” Eddie’s voice was dripping with adoration as one of his hands left your thigh and started rubbing circles over your warmth, his chin resting on your knee.

Your eyes fluttered shut and a trembling breath followed. Before you came into his room that night, all you wanted to do was get it over with just to say you did it. Now with the way he was touching you, only made you want him to explore your body for hours.

“See? You’re doing great, baby,” He cooed as his fingers moved over your wet folds.

Eddie loved that your body was so incredibly responsive. The way you arched your hips towards him was incredibly inviting to him. He picked up the pace slightly, watching you closely to make sure he didn’t overstimulate you.

“Feels good, doesn’t it angel?” The teasing grin on his face widened as his eyes roamed over you hungrily.

“Really good,” Your laugh shifted into a moan as he repeated the motion with even more pressure.

“Are you going to come, pretty girl?” He lightly teased, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every twitch and tremble.

“I don’t know, what is it supposed to feel like?” You asked a bit frantically.

You knew of the concept, but you never made yourself come before. However, you were suspicious of a growing warmth in your lower stomach that built as he picked up his pace.

“It’s okay, angel. You’re doing so well, I promise you’ll know when it’s happening,” He reassured you.

He could feel your legs shaking more and more as you started to get closer to a peak. “You’re gonna feel it building, baby. It’s gonna get real overwhelming, but trust me it feels so damn good.” He wanted to keep you completely focused on that feeling in your stomach. “Just focus on my fingers, okay?”

“Eddie,” You gasped, grabbing him. You tugged lightly, your nails digging into his flexed arm. His tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration as he kept running his fingers over you.

Waves of satisfaction and relief came over him as he watched you climax. His eyes locked on you, with his mouth slightly agape in a smile, mimicking your facial expression as you came down, the way your features trembled and twisted in satisfaction.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled under his breath as he watched you slowly come back down to Earth. “You alright?,”

“Yeah I’m okay,” You panted. Your shaking hand reached to cup his cheek. As much as you enjoyed it, you were amused to see that he was having an even better time.

“That was amazing,” You breathlessly complimented.

"Yeah? Well, you are amazing," Eddie planted a quick kiss on your palm, nuzzling a little into your hand.

He let out a low chuckle and he suddenly looked a little flustered from your compliment. "Did you think I did okay? I wasn't too rough or anything, was I?”

“No, no, baby it was perfect,” You stuttered urgently.

“I’m glad, Sweetheart,” He sighed in relief before pecking a few more kisses around your face. He lifted your chin. “Are you ready for more?”

Your enthusiastic nods returned. “I’m ready,”

Eddie's heart thrummed in his chest at your excitement, and a small laugh bubbled out from him. He could almost feel his pulse throbbing in his pants. "Absolutely, positively sure?" he asked in a tease

“Baby, c’mon. I really wanna do this,” You whined, covering your blushing face.

You knew he was joking but you were really not in the mood. He had no idea of the fire he started in you. Eddie's breath hitched at your desperate whine. He lurched toward your bedside table, pulling it open and rummaging through it before finding what he was looking for. He grabbed a condom and tossed it on the bed beside you, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You want it that bad, huh?"

You scrunch your nose to hide your smile. “Shut up, you’re such a pig,” You joked.

You curiously looked at the black foil sachet he threw. You slowly picked it up with your hands and then examined it closer.

“Did you want me to put it on you?”

"Only if you want to, baby," He loved watching that innocent look you had as you spoke your mind.

“Will you show me how, babe?” You chewed your lip.

You took the corner of the wrapper and tore it off. You studied the clear disc of plastic, your breathing getting heavier. Holding it made it more real. You were sweating in anticipation.

"Of course, sweetheart," his voice was dripping with adoration as he watched you fiddle with the condom, his breath coming a little quicker than normal. It took everything he had not to just rip it out of your hand and put it on himself.

Eddie had no intentions of giving you a strip show, but you were entranced by him taking off his clothes anyway. You were amused by the way his hair whipped around as he pulled his shirt over his head. Then he took his jeans off. You were unable to take your eyes off of him, taking in the view of his length.

“Is this how you do it?” You asked, bringing it toward his twitching cock.

Eddie's breath caught in his throat as you reached for him, and he was suddenly hyperaware of the way the light hit the shape of his body.

You then placed the condom on him, slowly rolling it over his length. Your eyes were wide, not allowing you to miss one moment.

“Is that good?” You asked again, looking for his reaction.

"Yeah, perfect," Eddie exhaled, biting down on his bottom lip as he watched you.

He reached down and took your chin into his hand, leaning down to kiss you gently on the lips, moaning softly as his tongue slipped past your lips and twirled with yours. He laid you back once more, positioning himself in between your legs. You held onto his forearms as he leaned in closer, his weight pinning you a bit. You let him take over, following his touches as nonverbal instructions.

Eddie was in a haze of pure desire as he felt the heat of your body against him. "You ready, baby?" he managed to ask.

You gripped his shoulders, took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah, totally ready,” You exhaled loudly, trying to relax your body and surrender your focus to him.

Eddie was determined to make this experience everything you could have ever wanted. He took a deep breath of his own as he gently rolled his hips against yours. He watched your face intently to make sure you were okay. "Is it okay? Is it good, baby?"

As he pushed into you for the first time, you let out a sharp hiss. It was a pinch of pain that only lasted for a few seconds before you calmed back down.

“I’m okay, it wasn’t that bad,” Your voice shook but it was accompanied by a content smile.

Eddie noticed the way you grimaced slightly as you tried to get used to new sensations from inside. His heart twisted at the sight and he instantly slowed his movement, his hands moving to gently cup your face. "I promised I'd be gentle with you, right? I don't want to hurt-"

But before he could finish the sentence, he realized his worry was misplaced. He felt you relax under him, releasing airy noises in pleasure. You grabbed his face, bringing his forehead to yours.

“I’m okay, I promise, just don’t stop,” You pleaded, your heavy breaths tickling his lips as you spoke.

He nodded then brought his lips to yours, softly kissing you until he found a better angle to rock his hips into you. He rolled his hips against you at a steady and measured pace. Your high-pitched, yet quiet moans filled his room, competing with the low music playing from his stereo. Your hands journeyed to his chest, feeling the rhythm of his strokes as his body pressed into your palms.

A chorus of deep groans escaped from him as Eddie sped up, each moan was more desperate than the last as he lost himself in a haze of pure passion. He loved the view of your flushed cheeks and sweat-soaked body, Eddie’s hand trailed down your thigh and behind your knee. He halted for a moment to say

“I’m gonna try something, tell me if it hurts,” He pushed your leg up a bit higher, opening your hips up even more to him. He returned to his previous pacing, growling as he felt the new sensations.

You could only moan in response to just how good that angle felt.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" He grinned down at you hungrily at the sight of you falling apart beneath him.

His body pressed closer in between your thighs as he pushed himself deeper. His breathing was coming in shorter gasps as the sensation pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” You admitted quietly, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his arms.

You were surprised you could get any words out of you. It was as if with every thrust, Eddie was forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head in pleasure.

He couldn't restrain the growl that escaped from his lips as your nails dug into his skin. The sharp feeling of the sting combined with the sweet sound of your words were pushing him further to the edge, and he forced himself to pause for a moment to collect himself. "Do it. Come with me, sweetheart," he managed to get out between harsh pants.

You gasped and scrunched up your face as the next few strokes took you to your peak. A squeaky yelp escaped your mouth as you came. Your legs repeatedly smacked at his hip bones as you shuddered from your orgasm.

"I got you, baby. I got you, angel." Eddie gently whispered his sweet words of reassurance as he felt his own composure slipping. Seeing you come for the second time of the night was too much for him. He immediately had to bury his head in the crook of your neck, moaning desperately as the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelmed him. The sweet sound of your shaky breaths and the feeling of your muscles squeezing him was enough to send him toppling over the edge with you. He rocked his hips with a few more slow movements as he came, moaning a shaky breathless groan against your neck.

Once you came back down, you urgently ran your hands down Eddie’s face, picking it up to study his exhausted but content expression. “Did you, um-“ You began to ask, but grew embarrassed by just the idea of the question.

After a few long moments to catch his breath, Eddie finally picked his head up to look at you. It took him a moment to even register your question. He gently wrapped his arms around your body to pull you into his chest.

He looked blissfully content as he laid on you, his hot breath coming out in ragged puffs. His face split into a wide smile when he heard the question you cut yourself off from asking, but his breath picked up and his cheeks flushed a little red as he realized what you were implying. "I did," he nodded, still smiling, "Do you want to see how much?"

“I don’t know, is it gonna be gross?” You covered your mouth, stifling your laugh that threatened to be way too loud for your liking. You looked down at where your bodies connected, curiously.

Eddie let out a deep laugh. He slowly pulled himself out of you, his muscles relaxing as he took some of his weight off. He reached down between you and gently pulled off the spent condom, his eyebrows raising as he examined it with a small smile on his face.

“Is that usually how much comes out?” You asked with a slight amused expression as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Seeing the evidence further made you satisfied that you finally got to experience this with him.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red as you questioned him on it and he quickly looked away as he tied the condom off. "Jesus Christ, we don't have to talk about this," he mumbled, his voice cracking as he tried to keep himself from laughing. "The answer is yes, it's how much comes out," he admitted reluctantly.

“You’re the one who offered, you weirdo!” You gave him a swift, light kick to his butt as he got off the bed, before laughing and rolling over to your stomach.

Eddie dramatically groaned as you hit him. His act didn't last for more than a few seconds before he melted back to his affectionate state. He grabbed a t-shirt from the corner of the room to wipe himself off before turning back to you and gently throwing it at your head.

“Eddie!” You screamed.

[luveline]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 

Today, right now, that’s crackers. 

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” she agrees. 

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 

“I’m just changing!” 

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 

“Yes please, daddy.” 

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 

Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 

“Thanks, daddy.” 

You breathe in. 

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 

“She did.” 

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say. 

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 

“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 

He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 

“Big changes.” 

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 

Your shoulders finally relax. 

[octoberautumnbox]

The Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424

CLC/Kep1er Choi Yujin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, older girl, undisclosed age gap (nothing creepy tho), soft dom Yujin, titsucking, nursing handjob, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, overstimulation a lil bit

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: discordant waltz chapter alr planned out dw i just wanted to switch things up a lil, this was a blast to write :D 

“Hey, so good to see you! Come in!” 

You take off your shoes and Yujin pulls you in for a hug. The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies fills your nostrils and sends your stomach growling. 

“Hi, Noona. It's great to see you again.” You back away from the hug, but Yujin keeps you within arm's length with her dainty hands on your shoulders. You admire her simple yet adorable outfit, which only compliments her bright personality.

“Take a seat, cookies are still cooling down but dinner is ready!” 

She plops you down at the dining table and sets your plate and silverware. While she buzzes from cupboard to table and back, you draw your eyes from one tiny dish to the next. Kimchi, lettuce leaves, cheese cubes, the works. At the center of the table is a small grill, with a pan sitting on top and evidently expensive cuts of beef like what they go crazy for in variety shows sizzling enticingly. 

You keep from drooling at the last second at the feast before you, and you manage to choke out, “Wow, are we expecting more people, Noona? This looks delicious.”

“No, just the two of us,” Yujin says cheerfully as she places your chopsticks at the right side of your plate. “Too much?”

“Way too much! You really pamper me whenever I come by. Thanks, Yujin-noona.” 

She chuckles cutely while covering her mouth with a finger. “You visit too rarely for a neighbor. Come by more often and I can tone down the food, okay?” 

She takes her seat next to you and squeezes your hand. Skillfully and quickly, she picks up a piece of beef from the pan, a leaf of lettuce, just the right amount of kimchi, a leaf of perilla, and finally a cube of cheese. She presents you with the expertly made wrap and brings it to your mouth, saying “Ahhh.”

~~~

She sets the plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of you as you offer her the other half of the blanket. She joins you on the couch and shuffles right up to you, placing her head on your shoulder and bringing your arm around her. 

The movie starts playing and the necessary studio intro clips crescendo onto the screen. “This is one of my favorites. You'll love it too.” She snuggles more comfortably into your side and sighs a breath of relaxation. Squeeze her shoulder, tell her wordlessly that you're excited to love this movie as well.

~~~

You come to, and groggily you look around. It's of little help, as the TV shut itself off sometime ago and the lights are all out. You feel a shifting weight beside you and your face suddenly fills with a scratchy texture and the sweetest scent you've probably ever smelled in your life, no doubt a faceful of your neighbor’s hair. 

“Yujin-noona, wake up. We fell asleep and the movie's over.” 

You try to shake her awake gently, and it works. Yujin sits up slowly and tries checking the time on her phone. After the initial short-lived blindness, she sets it down and rubs her eyes. 

“It's late. Sleep over. No buts.” Knowing you had no choice, you submit and help her help you walk and stumble yourselves up the stairs and to her bedroom. 

She plugs a star-shaped night light into a low wall socket and the pair of you fall into the bed. You cuddle into her side this time and she graciously wraps you in her arms. The smell of her hair and her bedsheets fill your nostrils again with a calming fragrance.

However, in an act of dastardly betrayal, your brain for whatever reason thinks your sweet beloved neighbor Yujin-noona is… something more. As you take in more and more of her scent, and gaze up from her side to see the way her eyes are shut lighty and her lips are slightly parted as light snores slip through, your heart beats a different rhythm as if just now realizing and admiring the beauty that is Choi Yujin. 

“This can’t possibly be,” you think to yourself, “she’s my neighbor and very close friend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.” You continue to fight down your subconscious feelings from bubbling up into your conscious mind, but the fullness of your tummy and the comfiness of the way you’re in bed with her prove it a challenge. 

“Something wrong? What are you thinking about?” You’re taken aback by Yujin’s sudden words. “Are you okay? Tell Yujin-noona what you need.” She rubs her eyes again and meets your gaze. In possibly the worst stroke of luck you could ever have had in this life, as she negotiates her hand back under the covers, she comes into light contact with you in the middle of you pitching a tent in your pants.

“... Oh.” is all Yujin could get out before you turn beet-red and stutter your apologies. 

“Shit, Noona, I’m so sorry! I- I should go- I’m sorry.” Your mind fills with shame at how you’ve ruined such a nice and pure friendship with your lovely neighbor. You try to stumble out from under the blanket, pushing Yujin away, but once again she places her dainty hand on your shoulder.

“Stop that right now. Come here.” Her command is mild but assertive. She lifts up the blanket to welcome you back, patting the space beside her in her bed. You sheepishly rejoin her under the fluffy covers, but before you settle, she makes another set of commands.

“This is my house, so for me to be a good host, you will tell me anything and everything you need. That includes this,” she whispers breathily, palming the growing bulge in your pants, “Most. Of. All.”

You can do nothing but whimper at her unrelenting touch. It doesn’t help that she’s already fiddling with the waistband of your underwear and wrestling it out of her way. What’s worse, your position in bed with her makes it impossible for you to look anywhere but to meet her eyes, or maybe…

“Use your words, baby boy, tell Noona exactly what you need.” An evil grin forms across her mouth, painting her features with a sinister shade of lust. 

“Noona… Could you please…” The words barely struggle out of your mouth, and even then you’re not saying anything of value. Yujin only chuckles more, covering her mouth with one finger, before prodding you incrementally yet ever closer to the edge.

“I can’t read minds, baby boy. You’re going to have to do better than that.” 

“Noona, your… your top, please. Take it off.” Wide-eyed, you watch as she grabs the piece of clothing by the hem and starts pulling up. Her belly button comes into your view as she goes on tantalizingly slowly revealing more of her creamy skin to your hungry eyes. 

The top then clears past her ribs, and she slows down ever so slightly, keeping you on the edge. You choose to relieve some of the pressure in your crotch yourself by stroking your dick to the unbelievably lewd sight, but Yujin has other plans.

“No, bad boy. Only Noona gets to play with that tonight.” In saying so, she lets go of her top, covering everything she showed you so far, to swat your hands away from masturbating. A deep sense of regret fills you, knowing that only you could be blamed for delaying your pleasure. However, Yujin seems satisfied that you learned your lesson and resumes her striptease.

She reaches a critical point in her teasing, bunching up all of the fabric so far right under her boobs. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, and you fight the urge to just dive into her tits and ravage them to your heart’s desire. She relishes in the burning gaze you’re subjecting her to, as if getting off to being ogled by her neighbor and best friend. She grows a few shades redder in the face to match yours, but ultimately she pulls her top up past her breasts, freeing them and letting them bounce. With the top now only covering her neck and shoulders, she opts to tease you more:

“Like what you see?” she asks sultrily while winking at you. She cups each of her tits with her hands, presenting them to you, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard for you. Yujin takes her lower lip between her teeth, obviously growing more and more aroused at the thought of letting you take her right then and there.

You try to find some spit in your mouth to swallow, but it’s dry as a desert and you’re left breathless instead. You swear that you could just die right there and be happy with the life you’ve lived so far, and with how your noona is treating you, you just might actually pass.

“Baby boy, I’ll say again: Tell Noona exactly what you need.” Her top finally leaves her body and she shows herself off to you. Her fingers snake through her hair and you’re blessed with an unobstructed view of the most luscious tits you’ve ever seen. 

“I want…” You try forcing words out of your mouth again, but Yujin makes the job (and you) so extremely hard. “I want to suck your tits.”

“Not with that attitude, mister. I am your Noona and you will speak to me with respect.” She’s got you now, her deadly scold wringing your neck and cutting off what little airflow your lungs had. You’re left with no choice; submit to her will.

“Yujin-noona, please let me suck your tits, please…” Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, anticipating the imminent pleasure of her boobs on your face. It means the world to you when she places a hand behind your head and pulls you closer.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby boy? Say ahhh…” You follow her command and she gently pushes her left breast into your mouth. Her skin tastes delicious, and her nipple is just the right stiffness to lick and nibble and worship.

She guides you to a more comfortable position, and you find yourself laying down while Yujin is on her side, still with her boob in your mouth, while she pulls your arm towards her right boob to fondle and grope as you please. 

“Is my precious baby boy comfy?” she asks much too cutely for what she’s making you do to her. “Yesh noona, ahm conhfy…” you mutter out with your tongue still wrapped around her nipple. 

“Good boy…” she moans breathily. While you’re taking your fill of her perfect body, she makes her desires known: she wants you too. 

Yujin finds your cock again and strokes it through your pants. “Baby boy, do me a favor, would you?” Her request makes itself apparent with the way she’s reaching under your waistband, and you could do nothing but oblige and strip yourself as quickly as possible of both pants and underwear.

“My perfect baby boy…” Her tone is laced with venom as your musk reaches her nostrils. She places a fingertip on the slit of your cock and spreads your precum all over the head. “What I’d give to do to your cock what you’re doing to my tits right now…”

Her pace speeds up, and while you have half a mind to ask her to slow down, you know you have no right to ask her of that. Instead, you go for the next best thing.

“Yujin-noona,” you surrender, her breast falling out of your mouth and onto your cheek, “could you please let me fuck your pussy?”

She chuckles again, but more evilly this time. “Of course, my sweet baby boy, but you’re gonna have to follow my lead.” 

“Anything for you, Noona.”

She places you properly down onto the bed, making sure you’re comfy, and plants a kiss on your cheek. She forces you to watch, with a hand on your cheek guiding your face, as she peels off her shorts to show you more of her skin: her smooth legs, creamy thighs, and plump ass you now have the pleasure to grope as much as she’s willing to let you. She climbs on top of and straddles you, the large wet spot on her pink-and-white striped panties nearly leaking her juices onto her thighs, before she takes your hard and throbbing cock into her hands again. 

“Will you be my good baby boy, sweetheart?” She spits into her hand and rubs it all over your dick, causing you to groan in pleasure.

“Yes…” “Yes, what, hmm?”

“... Yes, noona, I’ll be your good baby boy…”

“Perfect, just what I wanted to hear.” She pulls her panties to the side and rubs the head of your cock against her soaked folds. The heat radiating from her sex spurs you on even more, the delayed gratification of slipping into her causing your breaths to heave. Yujin takes on sharp inhales and slow exhales as well each time she teases her clit with your head.

Deciding to finish teasing you, Yujin finally gives you what you’re craving. She sinks down slowly onto your cock, making sure to feel every single vein inside her. Her descent is slow and deliberate and you watch as more and more of your length slips past her pussy lips and into her tight cunt.

“Ffffuck, baby boy, you’re going to split me in half with a cock like this…” 

It starts to overwhelm you: the warmth from her slick, the tightness of her cunt, the clenching of her walls against your cock as if desperate for a climax as early as this. You surely want your noona like this for much longer than just a few seconds more, but you’re in absolutely no control at all.

“Baby boy, tell me if you’re close, okay?” You nod furiously, and Yujin drops herself violently onto your crotch, pushing every last inch of your cock into her cunt. “Ah, fuck! Yes, baby boy, fuck me with this thick cock of yours!”

Grab her tiny waist, feel her smooth skin, pull her up ever so slightly. Then, pull her back down onto your dick, feeling her walls clench around you so needily again. The pair of you find a rhythm, and not long after, Yujin herself bounces up and down on your shaft like a pogo stick.

“Shit, baby boy, you feel so fucking good!” She somehow finds little adjustments that push you deeper and deeper into her cunt, and in turn you hit her good spots more and more. It gets progressively more difficult to keep from creampie-ing her right then and there, but you fight for more time to receive her love.

With every thrust into her core, Yujin falters ever so slightly. You notice between her lewd moans and grunts that she’s arching forward, slowly but surely bringing her closer and closer to you. Eventually she gives up trying to stay upright, and she falls forward only to catch herself with her elbows planting deep into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Tempting, no? Hah, hah, come on, my sweet, good baby boy, give ‘em a little suck.” Barely registering the lewd words coming out of her mouth, you take her right nipple in between your teeth. Tug respectfully, but tug hard. The sensation of your teeth on her sensitive nub drives her insane, bringing her to the heights of her pleasure, and somehow even higher still. She lets you know just how blissful she is with groans and pleas you can’t help but indulge.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me! My god, yes, please, harder,” and many more nonsense filler words spill from her mouth while you fill her cunt again and again and again. The more she rides you, the more her sweet and tight cunt leaks her juices all over her bed, causing the wet spot to make itself known to you once it grew big enough under her. At the same time, you struggle harder and harder to get your own body under control, fighting back your orgasm for just a bit more time with her like this, just a bit more.

“N- Noona, it feels so good, you feel so fucking good on my cock, Yujin-noona…” You’re completely at her mercy, and her mercy is heaven. With every bounce she makes on your cock you grow harder and hornier for her, only to be welcomed into what might be the wettest, neediest, fullest pussy in the world. You can’t get enough of her: not your cock pistoning into her cunt and poking at the entrance to her womb, not your mouth sucking and biting desperately at the flesh of her perky tits, not your hands roaming all over her body and groping every part of her you can. 

“Baby boy, you’re making Noona feel so fucking good too,” she confesses hazily, and only then you notice that her eyes are falling half–shut and her straining to keep riding you. Her thighs are jiggling with her trembling core, and you figure out that she’s been spraying her girlcum all over your crotch for who knows how long now. 

Her pussy only serves your cock so much better now, wetter and slicker and definitely tighter with how her pussy refuses to let you go. The feeling of her hips convulsing against you almost nearly pushes you over the edge yourself, you’re trying so hard to hold off, but she’s so cute and caring, and she’s so fucking hot…

“Noona, I- I’m so fucking close, Noona!” But Yujin is long gone, lost in her continuous orgasm, doomed to keep leaking from her cunt and mouth and riding you without her better judgment to stop. Wherever Yujin is in the confines of her mind must be drowning in pleasure to keep fucking herself on you like this.

You’re gone too, as even though you know it wouldn’t be that hard to pull her tight body off you yourself, you’re completely in love with the idea of cumming just like this. Your cock buried deep inside your friendly neighbor Choi Yujin, who fed you, hung out with you, treated you like a real brother, only to take advantage of her dazed state of mind to paint her velvet walls white with your cum, filling her to the brim with your baby-making seed, subjecting her to the motherhood of your child…

“Baby boy, do it, shoot all of it inside, sweetheart. Fill Noona up. It’s okay.” On primal instinct, you let out a low growl and grip her ass roughly. Only now do you notice how much she was moaning loudly right into your ear, tinnitus ringing a high-pitched and dizzying tone that wouldn’t stop. Your arms and legs burn with how hard and fast you’re manhandling Yujin’s body, fucking her like a wild animal that knew nothing but sex. She hasn’t stopped orgasming, you feel her slick spread more over your crotch. Her elbows finally give out and she collapses onto you, fully vulnerable to you.

“I’m Noona’s good baby boy” is your last thought before your orgasm takes over your mind. Thrust deeper than ever into her core, shoot your seed straight into her womb. Her strained voice makes one final effort to scream her earth-shattering ecstasy as each spurt of your spunk shoves itself into her, eventually forcing her cunt to leak both her and your cum out in globs. You even lose yourself in the throes of pleasure and forget that you might be hurting her; all you need to know is that her body is yours to use and breed as you like. Keep pistoning into her all the while your cock sprays your love deep into her fertile body, one spurt, two, three, five, eight, eleven, before you lose count and just focus on feeling good with your cute and caring noona. 

Once the world stops spinning and calms down, you find yourself dizzy and gasping for air through a dry-as-a-desert mouth. With fatigue plaguing every part of your body, you can’t even find the strength to get into a less uncomfortable position. Your eyes try to drift lazily across the ceiling, getting your bearings, but Yujin has one last command for you.

“My sweet baby boy, you did so well for Noona. Get your rest, baby.” She places her hand on your eyes, pushing them shut. She keeps her hand there, making sure you don’t open your eyes again while you feel her lips planting kisses on your face, trailing a line from your cheek to your neck. Finally, she licks and then nibbles your lower lip lightly, rewarding you for doing such a good job. 

“B-but what about the mess? And you might get preg–” “Shush now, let Noona worry about that, okay? Sweet dreams, baby boy.”

You stand no chance against her; your fatigue takes over your body and the calmness of the air lulls you into a sense of serenity. As the final nail in the coffin, Yujin refuses to get off of you despite your best attempts at pulling out and pushing her off. Without even realizing it, you fall deep asleep amidst her comforting weight, tender kisses, and soft coos.

~~~

a/n: i went into this fic blind actually. only when I was about half done did I think to check if yujin was actually good at cooking at all but turns out shes not :/

[casinocarpediem]

▪︎■☆ Новое Mолоко 🐮🥛 ☆■▪︎

(Translation: New Milk)

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞

☆ male! subtop! Francis Mosses / male! dombottom! Reader

☆ overstimulation if ya squint a lil, milking, breeding, dumbification, passing out, belly bulge (If your not into this, look away!! 👻👻)

☆ implied Russian speaking Francis (translated from google translate and research for needed accuracy, however, any form of critique or correction definetely is allowed!)

☆ short (I think???)

☆ author has played Not My Neighbor

°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°

You and Francis had a thing. And, fuck, for a minimum wage worker who barely gets any kind of rest at all, he's fucking good at what he does. He's a big fan of milking. Not his job, no, he could rant about how shitty it can be despite not wanting to get a new one (A/N: so real) but he's a fan of milking. Just the other kind of milking.

The first tim you two had sex, he was pretty sheepish about it, yeah. He didn't know if you prefered topping or bottoming so he settled for a handjob. You did the same as well. Until you both got used to each other and realized that he was pretty flexible. He'd do whatever you'd want to do, whatever you had in store, as long as if it wasn't too much for either of you. He loves fucking but he surely isn't a sex devient. Somewhere in the middle. Pliant to whatever you to had planned. But recently, he may or may not have discovered a new kink. Somethig that made his legs flex and his stamina increase and the gooey, warm, and fuzzy gears in his head grind back to life to keep on going. The last time you two had sex, there was now no condom, and he was pounding you into the bed that you swore Isaack would definetely send a formally written complain, persuasive enough for the both of you to not have such intense, hot, steamy sex for the next few months, (He's a reporter after all, have to respect the man informing the people, and he definetely has a way with words).

Humming, groaning, a little against your neck. You swore it was like a kitten, as if he was purring in a way. You pulled his hair as per usual and with a louder grunt his dark brown eyes roll up just a slight and flutter, closing shut as he fills you to the brim with his warm baby batter. Shaking, sweating, and biting his lip when he just keeps on cumming until theres nothing more to give. Or is there?

What he didn't expect, was when you suddenly whispered in the midst of him balls deep inside you,

"Thats it... good boy, you fuckin slut... Cum in me, keep milkin' yourself f'me"

Ah shit, he swore something inside of him just snapped loose. With the way he shivered violently, and as your hand loosened on his sweaty brown hair he moves again. Oh how odd, after a few rounds, the last one being penetration, he's always so tired, opting to give you a handjob or finger you if you didnt get a taste of your climax but shit. If this wasn't hot then what was?!

When you had basically degraded him to milk his balls dry you didn't mean literally, but fuck. This was so appealing, that your little milk boy had his quirks.

You look down at yourself seeing the bulge appearing on your abdoment everytime he thrusts in and god does it make you feel dizzy. Your hard dick, leaking as well just begging to cum while Francis gasps and shudders a little more, oh he looks so dumb. Trying to do as he's told. To keep milking himself. Milking himself for you. Just for motherfucking you. It keeps fuzzy sparks inside of his brain that has him smiling and drooling against your chest.

"Awe, what an adorable little cow you are... Milking your-...yourself for me... Giving me every ounce of that sweet sweet milk of yours, hmm? You wanna give me your milk Francis? You wanna fucking cum in me again?"

He feels so lightheaded that he smiles dumbly at the idea and nods as if his head is too heavy, full of warm cream. Muttering several words in russian mixed in with english as he nods slowly, trembling as his cock, still hard and moving perfectly against every spot inside of you.

"Please please please К-Куколка please... fuck fuckk- let me cum... inside... inside... cum inside please please milk me- oh... П-Пожалуйста... З-...Золотце... Пожалуйста..."

The pathetic, brown haired man sobs. Pawing at your sides like an injured little puppy. Begging so prettily, who could deny those eyes of his? all teary and tired. Small blobs of salty water dripping down his eyebags which were now disappearing, thanks to yourself for keeping his sleep schedule normal again after years of nap malnutrition.

After a few more moments of Francis groaning so softly against your ear, you feel yourself about to cum too, and when you order it directly, he really does come undone. Panting like a dog in heat while nails dig against his back skin. All the while he buries himself deep inside of you once again and fills you up with a second load of his fluids that it's practically drooling out of your hole. You hiss as well, shutting your eyes with a shudder as your dick spurts out a thick white rope of cum, coating Francis' stomach and your chest. Fuck.

Francis pants, collapsing on you. You gently push him to the side and just watch him catch his breath. Eyes closed, skin warm and sweaty while he's still inside you. All soft. But its not uncomfortable. At least now, you definetely know how you can abuse this new found information with your lovely boyfriend.

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

[satorusugurugurl]

Can u pls do jjk men fic w a chubby reader where the boys like her but they think he wouldn’t go for her cuz she’s a lil extra thicc.

(Maybe other jealous ppl tell her that too n make her insecure) and then the boys find out and confess n stuff (and spice too maybe) :3

JJK Men: You’re Beautiful!

Summary: JJK Men react to someone making you feel insecure about your body.

Characters: Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna (Roommate AU), Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Chubby!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: making out, public smexy stuff, dry humping feeling up, body worship, language, fatphobia, body shaming, weight insecurities, Word 

Count: 9K

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content! I wanted to finish this fic, and I have two others that are almost done, but your girl kept passing out in the middle of editing this! I hope you enjoy it!!

Choso Kamo: 

“Snacks?”

“Check.”

“Water?”

“Check!”

“Picnic blanket?”

There was a pause on the other line of the phone. “Shit!” Choso yelled as you watched him turn back towards his house. “I knew I was forgetting something.” You bit down on your lip, kicking your feet as he turned his pretty eyes on you. The second your eyes made contact, you felt your cheeks flush as he smiled softly.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze as he turned and went back inside his apartment. You fell harder for your best friend when he smiled at you like that. The man you sat next to in art class who was quiet and kept to himself. Sitting there despite your friend's pleas for you not to had been the best decision of your entire life. Choso was amazing! He was sweet and talented, and he had a huge heart. 

He loved his brothers and took amazing care of them, and God, he was so sweet. Plus, he was like the hottest guy you’d ever seen. God, you had it down for him, but you didn't dare tell him how you felt—not yet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Choso said as he walked to his car.

“N-Nothing!”

“There is because you haven't shown me your outfit.” 

You perked up, grinning as you propped the phone on your vanity, standing far enough to show Choso your outfit. “I'm wearing a crop top and shorts!” you grinned, twirling around, showing off your thick, curvy body that you loved. What do you think?” When you glanced at the phone, you nearly tripped as you saw Choso smiling dreamily at you, his chin resting on his steering wheel as he stared.

“You look cute.” He said in an almost hushed tone that had your heart racing. “Alright, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sounds good. Please be safe while driving over here.”

“I always am.”

The second line disconnected, and you shoved your face into the corner and kicked your feet. He was so cute, and he said you were adorable! This was the best day ever, and he hadn’t even picked you up yet. Your eagerness had you rushing out of your room into the living room, where you found your roommate sitting. She was watching television, and as soon as she heard your entrance, she glanced up, eyes wide as she did a double takeover of your outfit. 

You looked smoking hot. Your boobs were perfectly fitted in the tight crop top. At the same time, the curve of your ass would have men howling at it like those old-timey cartoons. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your light makeup was done. You were a stunning sight. But it wasn’t just your beauty that had your roommate seething with jealousy. It was your confidence and your giddy attitude over the fact that Choso Kamo was taking you out.

“Where are you off to?”

“Oh, Choso is taking me to the park! They’re having a movie night there, so we got tons of snacks, and we’re just going to watch a movie and talk under the stars.” The dreamily lovey-dovey look in your eyes made you already jealous of your roommate. 

“You're going out like that?” 

Her words had you stopping in your tracks as you glanced down at yourself. “Yeah—? Why do I have a hole in my pants or something?” You glance back at your pants.

“No, it's just—you’re going to be wearing a crop top in public with Choso?” 

“I always wear crop tops.” 

Your roommate could see the hesitation in your eyes at her words. “Yeah, but that’s normally when we’re with our other friends. You know friends who are thick like you. You’ll be sitting on a blanket next to Choso, who looks like an artisan carved him out of marble.” You swallowed, poking at your cute tummy. “I just wouldn't want you to be embarrassed; you are a little extra thick.” She stood up, carrying her past you and moving towards the kitchen. “You aren’t trying to impress him by wearing something like that, right?”

You had been trying to impress him. You picked out your cutest and the shorts that looked great on you. This was the outfit you always wore when you needed a confidence boost.

“Oh—you were trying to impress him, weren’t you?” You swallowed hard at your suddenly dry throat. “Oh honey, you’re too thick for him. Could you imagine being on top of him?” She shook her head as she threw her bowl in the sink. “If you want to impress him, maybe pick up on my workout regiment?” 

Her words left you feeling stunned as you scoffed. “That was fucking rude.” You snapped, eyebrows throwing together as you glared. “Choso said my outfit looked cute. And you might be insecure with your body, but I love mine.” Your roommate rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys off the counter, heading for the door. 

“Cute as in a sisterly way, probably.” 

As the door to your shared department behind her, you resisted the urge to throw her mother’s face at the door. Ever since you and Choso had grown closer together, your roommate, who was a friendly acquaintance, had turned into a mythic bitch. She was constantly jabbing you about your weight and what you wore. It might be time for you to start looking for a new roommate or somewhere else to live. She had just to be jealous, which shouldn’t affect you.

But it did.

As you glanced at the mirror, you suddenly felt overly exposed. She was right; Choso had a nice build, and you were curvy and thick. Those toxic, cruel words had you reaching into the closet, slipping on a hoodie over your shorts before you headed downstairs to wait for Choso to arrive.

The second he pulled up in front of your dorm, the passenger-side window rolled down. “Hey cutie, ready fo—” Choso frowned eyeing the hoodie as you got in the front seat. “Uhm, what happened to the crop top and shorts?” He prodded as he pulled onto the main road, heading for the park.

“Uhm—I got cold.”

“It’s eighty degrees.”

“Yeah? So?”

Choso sighed, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he focused on the road. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” That stung like a lash from a whip. 

“I’m not lying.” You sighed out, tilting your head back.

“Ha, you honestly think I’m buying that? I know you. And I know when you’re cold because you’re normally on top of me, trying to steal my body heat. So you aren’t cold.” It was almost annoying that he knew you so well. But at the same time, you were thankful that he did. Slowly turning your head, you could see him glancing at you every few seconds while he maintained a vigilant gaze on the road. “So, are you going to come up with another shitty lie? Or are you gonna tell me why you’re wearing a hoodie over the outfit you were so excited to show me.” 

You groaned, scrubbing your hands down your face before turning in your seat. “Has anyone told you that it’s annoying how observant you are?” The remark only had your crush smiling. “Fine, fine, uhm—” you rubbed your neck, “my roommate made some pretty nasty comments, so I wasn’t feeling as confident in it.” 

Anger tagged at the features of Choso’s face. “What?!” He snapped, turning his gaze back on you. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty shocking, to say the least. She said lots of stuff. Mostly along the lines that I was too thick to be wearing what I was.” Those words rang in your ears. “She asked if I was trying to impress you, and when I said I was, she said I was too thick for you. And I snapped back, telling her you said my outfit was cute.” The blinker clicked several times. It chose to pull off the main road and down a dark alley. “And then she said that it was most likely in a brotherly way. Which I knew it was bullshit because we’re friends and you were just hyping me up.”

“No, " the car stopped completely. You’re both wrong.”

When you turned your attention back on Choso, he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I-I was wrong?” you squeaked as he learned over the console. His thick, long fingers grabbed both sides of your face. 

“Yeah, I meant it in an I have the biggest fucking crush on you, and I want to kiss the hell out of you kind of way.” 

You breathed heavily as he brushed his nose against yours, closing the distance between you. “W-What a coincidence, I have the biggest crush on you too.” He hummed stray dark strands of hair, tickling your cheek. “A-And I would love to kiss you.” You were suddenly yanked forward, Choso’s lips on yours as he kissed you like you had never been kissed before. 

You melted, and the sweet taste of mint flooded your mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. With a soft moan, you opened your mouth for him, shaking as his hands reached around you, grabbing the back of your head, forcing your lips harder against his as he deepened the kiss. His tongue moved feverishly against yours as he pulled you tight against his chest. 

“M-mm!” You moaned, digging your fingers into his shirt, reciprocating the want that he had shown you.

Choso broke the kiss, first panting heavily as he glared at your hoodie as if it had insulted one of his brothers. “Take this off; I wanna see your body.” He growled, grabbing the fabric shielding you from his gaze, tugging it over your head, and throwing it somewhere in the backseat. “Oooh fuck.” He whispered, hands gliding over your shoulder, saying he took in an eye full of your beauty. “You’re so pretty.” His eyes slowly met yours as he yanked you over the console. 

“W-Wait!” You yelped out, your roommate's words hitting you at a terrible time. “Hold on!”

“My windows are tinted. It’s fine.”

“That’s not it! I don’t want to crush you.” 

“Honey,” you squeaked out another gasp as Choso bull-yanked you over the console of the car, flopping you down on his lap. “You aren’t going to crush me. Fuck.” He groaned as he laid the seat back. “Fuccck, you’re so pretty.” He whispered, running his hands over your beautiful curves, fingers gently caressing the stretch marks on your sides. “You have no idea how much I wanted this. To have you in my arms, kissing you, worshiping your beautiful body.” 

You moaned, shaking slightly as you pressed his face and your breasts, kissing and nipping out your cleavage. “F-Fuck—” Shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps littered your arms; your best friend continued to run his hands up and down your body, taking you in like this was the first time he saw you.

“You’re a masterpiece.” His hands grow up your ass, squeezing it. “I can’t believe I can finally admire your beauty up close and personal and not from afar anymore.” Choso ran his tongue over your breasts while his hands moved your hips, encouraging you to rock against him.

“C-Choso~ g-god me too; I‘ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Then have me.”

 

Your hips automatically began rocking against the hardening bulge in his jeans, drawing out soft moans from the both of you. Each roll of your jean-clad shorts against him was like electricity, like fireworks going off at a summer festival. It was exciting and new, and each move was more exciting than the first, as you were both bound by rhythm, and that was perfect in no time. Choso’s fingers dug into your hips as your lips found his neck, nipping and sucking at his sensitive skin, growing out the prettiest sounds from him. 

This felt like a dream, a dream that you had had many times. But the smell of spice and pine let you know that this was not a dream. It was reality, and it was a reality where your best friend was moaning underneath, you bucking his hips up against your core as you relentlessly ground down on him.

“Nngh~ fuck, that feels so good.” 

“C-Cho, fuck you’re so hard.”

He laughed, and it was smooth and rich, like dark chocolate. “I’m always hard around you.” He admitted, his hands leaving your hips, slowly slipping under your shirt to grope and tease your breasts. “I like you so much. I liked you before you even sat next to me in class, f-fuck!” Choso cried out, throwing his head back as you sucked on his skin, leaving marks everyone would be able to see.

“Yeah~?”

“Fuck y-yeah, haaah,” you watched an ecstasy as his eyes rolled back into his. “I-I was working u-up the courage to talk t-to nngh!” A loud moan broke through his words as you rolled your hips in a circle over his hard cock. “Oooh, holy fuck—it’s hard to talk when you’re doing that.” 

“Ooh, I’m sorry, honey.” You weren’t sorry in the slightest. “You can continue.”

Choso sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “I-I was working up the courage to talk to you, but you beat me.” He spat out before his voice broke as you rolled your hips faster against that hard bulge in his. “Fuck—c-confessions later, it’s hard to be serious when I’m trying not to cum in my pants.” Knowing that you already had them on the edge only encouraged your momentum.

“Ooh~ what stopping you from doing that?

“Heh, I don’t want to make a mess inside of my pants like a teenager again.” You rocked harder against him. “Fuck, but you seem determined.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about messing up your pants; you could mess up my mouth instead.” 

The confidence, the tone of your voice, and the friction were Choso’s downfall.

You felt him twitching his pants before bucking up relentlessly against you. And in that moment, you had never been more thankful than inseams and jeans. That perfect scene rubbed right against you in quite the ideal way, drawing shattering cries from you as you forward onto Choso’s chest and coming inside your panties, right along with him. The waves of pleasure left you twitching as your heart thundered in your ears.

After a few minutes of lying in the afterglow, you pulled away to look down at the man underneath you. He looked as dazed as you felt. His cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his fingers ran lazily up and down your back. Choso looked like every dream he’d ever dreamt had just come true. It was a blissful expression, one that you fairly certainly mirrored.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, I felt. And I’m sorry my confession came out under such shitty circumstances.” Choso whispered as he sat slightly, peppering your shoulders with kisses.

“I could’ve easily confessed to you, too; I was just nervous.”

“We both were.” He corrected, wrapping his arms around you. “But I want you to know I meant every word I said. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and my best friend.”

You take your bottom lip between teeth and smile shyly down at him. “You’re my best friend to Cho, and thank you for liking me for me.” He hummed, slapping your ass and drawing out a squeak from you.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way. And as much as I would love to keep you on my lap, I think we need to make a pit stop at my apartment before we go to the park. I need to change my pants.”

“Oor~ we could have a movie night in your bedroom? With no clothes on. Because believe it or not, leaving naked underneath, you would be a lot more cuter than this outfit when you agree.” 

Choso turned red, not saying a word at first before his hands massaged your ass. “Get this sweet succulent in the passenger seat right now. We’re going back to my place.” And you were right; your crop top looked much better on his floor next to his clothes.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Gojo always found an excuse to go party at his luxurious house. His excuse this week was to celebrate his new puppy. It was an excuse everyone would gladly use to spend an evening dancing, drinking, and smoking. You and your roommate Sukuna were two of those people.

“Did You seriously bring a fucking gift for the dog?” your crimson-eye roommates snapped as he opened the door to Gojo’s house for you.

“For starters, her name is Kiki, and secondly, yes, I did.” you turn to look up at your towering roommate. His face tattoo is even visible in the low lights on the porch. “You drop the beer. I brought the gift. That’s what makes us a great team.”

Sukuna looked away; annoyance etched into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, teammates.” he smacked your ass with the six-pack he was carrying, pushing you through the threshold. “Go on, teammate, get that ass of yours inside.” you barked out inside the crowded house and searched for your mutual friends. “Oi, I’m going to drop this off in the kitchen, okay?”

“Okay!” you yelled over the blaring music before venturing into the living room.

You spotted Satoru on the couch with a husky puppy sitting on his lap. Bright blue eyes met you as you approached. “Stop!” Gojo nudged a smoking Suguru, who choked on his hit. “Who the fuck is this sexy bitch?” Kiki barked almost in agreement as you grinned, handing the tug-of-war toy to Kiki, who sniffed it hesitantly before chewing on it approvingly. “Seriously, you look so hot. Did you get all dolled up for your asshole roommate?”

“No, I just felt like dressing up a little.” Dressing in a short red and black plaid skirt and a tight red T-shirt with something you rarely did. You weren’t exactly thin. Your butt was too big, your thighs pressed together when you walked, and your tummy was soft. You loved your body, all the dimples and stretch marks that came along with your curvy figure, but mostly showed off around the apartment wearing a tank top and dolphin shorts. You often wear leggings and an oversized jacket when you are out and about, but tonight was different.

Sukuna had been the one encouraging you to dress up, telling you to live a little and wear what you wanted. Initially, You hesitated, but you decided that maybe he was right. Life was too short to suffer inside of a hoodie!

“You look hot.” Geto chimed in, taking another hit from a blunt. “You should dress like that more often; I can feel the confidence radiating off you.”

“That's what I keep telling her.”

You smiled as your roommate came up behind you, draping his arm over your shoulders. “Maybe now you’ll believe me.”

“I don’t know, Sukuna; you should see how some of these guys look at her.” Gojo shifted Kiki to his other arm. “You might be going home alone tonight.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.”

“I’m just speaking the truth!” Satoru shrugged the shoulder, pushing himself up. “Better act before someone else does.” Your roommate growled to ignore. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to take Kiki outside for potty training.

Before your friend could even step away, Shoko and Utahime hurriedly stepped in front of him. “Gojo, some delivery person is here with a three-tier cake, and he won’t bring it in until you sign for it.” A three-tier cake for a dog party?

Gojo looked between Shoko and his pretty husky. “Fuck, okay, let me put Kiki ou—” You stepped in, holding your arms out.

“I can take her out for you. I know how important potty training is for puppies.”

“Really, oh my God, thank you.” He pressed to kiss on top of Kiki’s head before handing her over to you. “Be good for your auntie. I’ll be back!” 

“Hey, do you need me to come with you?” Sukuna asked as he nursed a beer.

“No, we’re all good!” Kiki probably turned you, licking your chin as you carried her to the backyard, replacing her down on the grass. “Good girl Kiki go potty, sweetie.” you praised her, the grass following her further out into the yard. “You’re such a pretty girl—”

“Did you see Sukuna’s roommate?” a voice called out from the back porch, and the door opened and closed.

“Who didn’t?” a man chimed in with a laugh. “You could spot that girl out in a heartbeat.”

“No shit! She’s a sore thumb compared to Sukuna! I honestly feel bad for him.”

Your stomach soured as you stayed out of sight of their cruel words. “Seriously, she should think before she dresses like that and when she’s around Sukuna on top of it! I would’ve been so embarrassed being seen with her in that skirt.” 

Their choir of laughter had you sinking onto the grass. You thought your outfit looked good. Gojo, Geto, and Sukuna thought so, too, but maybe they were just being nice because they were your friends. These assholes had a point. Your roommate was so handsome, and you weren’t feeling the prettiest.

As Kiki sniffed the grass mindlessly before the door opened again. The assholes on the porch suddenly grew as you followed their gaze to Sukuna, who was looking around. They said nothing as he huffed out and sighed in annoyance.

“Have you guys seen my roommate?”

“No—I’m sure we would remember if we saw ‘her.’” one of the girls snickered, making you sink further onto the ground. Was this the part where your roommate joined in with their teasing? Making comments about your outfit? Being honest about what he thought.

You shut your eyes tight as you braced yourself for the truth. “What the fuck do you mean by that? Why are you laughing?” you perked up to look at a very pissed-off Sukuna.

“Well, let’s be honest, man, with her thighs, she shouldn’t be—”

The last words didn’t even get a chance to leave his mouth as Sukuna grabbed the asshole by the front of his shirt. “ I would think very carefully before the next words leave your fucking mouth.” you watched your roommate slam this dick against the wall of the porch. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.” his girl? Your cheeks flushed as you watched color leave the man's face.

“I-I’m sorry, man, I didn’t know!”

“Yeah? Well, now you do. Get the fuck out of my sight before I decide you’re not worthy of being in the same vicinity as me.” 

The instant the assholes left, running inside with their tails between their legs, you picked yourself up off the grass, shuffling forward. Sukuna’s head lifted as he listened to your footsteps, turning his head and listening to you approaching him from behind. He scoffed, turning on his heel, leaning over the railing, and glancing at you.

“I’m going to take a while, guess, and say you heard everything those fuckers said.”

“Yep.” 

“You know they’re full of shit, right?” You hummed, putting your hands behind your back because you stood below him, looking up at the porch. “I’m serious; they’re nothing but jealous pieces of shit. You’re beautiful.”

“And I'm also apparently your girl, too.” 

Shock didn’t cross his features; his fingers curled in slightly as he kept his transfixed on you. “Yeah, I want you to be my girl. I'm tired of being this teammate to you. And I honestly don’t know how clear I can be about how I feel about you.” Now that he was being so blatant with his words, you were finally starting to see what he was talking about.

All the late-night cuddle sessions, the lingering touches on your hips when he passed you, how he looked at you sometimes. Your roommate had been flirting with you this whole time, and you hadn’t realized it until he called you his girl. It was almost embarrassing to be so blind to his advances, but there was a time to be embarrassed about that later. Right now, you wanted to focus on the words he had just said.

“Why?” 

Sukuna shows no signs of confusion or fear. His face remains blank, like an empty canvas. “Why what?”

“Why would you even want me to be your girl? I mean, look at me.”

“I am.” 

You flushed as you bore into his eyes. “Okay, and you see me, right? You heard that asshole say, I shouldn’t be wearing skirts; I stick out like a sore thumb compared to you. People, apparently, think I’m not good enough.” A shadow flashed across your face as your roommate leaked over the edge of the porch, landing on the grass in front of you.

“Ive wanted you from the second you walked into our apartment.” Sukuna grabs both your wrists, gently holding them in his hands. “Im so fucking attracted to you. You have the perfect fucking body. I want you. I would not be able to keep my hands off of you if you even gave me a chance to touch you.”

“K-Kuna—” You gasped as his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I-I— are you sure?”

Instead of responding to your question, Sukuna leaned forward, pressing his lips against the drawers in a kiss that could stop time itself. The lingering taste of alcohol made your head spin as he backed you up against the pool house, pressing you firmly against it, one hand gripping the side of your face while the other slammed against the door.

His lips moved feverishly against yours, and your wall slowly began to come down around him. You found yourself no longer hesitating as you remembered his words and how passionately he had spoken of you. Your hands, which had limply stayed by your side, lifted up, and your fingers ran through his hair. You pulled him more tightly against your chest. And it was an action that your roommate absolutely loved.

Feeling you getting into the kiss into the passion that he had felt for you for so long, made Sukuna snarl as he gripped your hips, lifting you up as he searched for the handle to the door of the poolnhouse. He was going to take you in there and take his time to show you just exactly how much you meant to him. And how much he wanted you.

But finding the handle turned out to be a lot more difficult when his lips were on yours. “Where the fuck is the stupid handle?” Sukuna growled out, pulling away from your lips for a second before slamming them back against you, stepping back an inch in search of the handle from a different angle. 

“I think it’s the left.” You out in between breaths of air before your lips connected with him again. But as your roommate searched for the handle, he found himself drifting along the side of the house, which had been a mistake.

It was a mistake on both of your parts. When Sukuna went to put his hand down on the wall, he came into contact with nothing. He had unknowingly reached the edge of the pool house and found himself tumbling forward with you wrapped in his arms. You let out a scream of shock as water engulfed you, and you both fell into Gojo’s pool. But this slight hiccup didn’t stop you—notin the slightest.

The instant you broke through the surface of the water, both of you blindly searched for each other. When you felt his body heat, you threw your arms around your roommate's neck, holding him close as you wrapped your legs around his waist. This allowed him to freely carry you towards the back of the pool, where he slammed you against the cool pebble tech wall. 

“Sorry about your outfit,” Sukuna growled as he pulled back just enough to allow him to pull your shirt up and throw it over your head on the patio.

 

“Does it look like I give a fuck about my outfit right now?” You asked, grabbing a hold of his shirt, tugging it up and over your head, tossing it into the water, allowing it to float somewhere off in the pool.

“No, I honestly don’t think you give a fuck about it.”

“Then why are we still talking about it?” 

Sukuna smirked, licking his lips slowly. “Alright, I hear ya’ I guess I’ll go ahead and let my lips do the talking.”

While you both made out in the back of the pool, Gojo stepped outside, looking around for you as he picked Kiki up off the ground. “Hey~? You good? Please tell me you didn’t fall in my pool and drowned.” He was starting to step forward when the unstable sound of splashing water, followed by a string of moans, stopped him in his tracks.

Kiki yelped happily as Gojo snickered, heading into the pool house, grabbing a couple of fresh towels, and setting them on the pool deck near the steps. “Well~ it looks like he took my advice and finally stepped up and took some action,” Gojo told his pretty dog as he headed back into the house, dimming the lights around the pool, making your steamy session just a bit more romantic.

Nanami Kento:

“So it’s a date?” Shoko asked, watching you Finish applying some very light makeup to your face.

“It is not a date. Nanami Just happened to have an extra ticket to my favorite musical. We’re friends, and there’s nothing more than that.”

“Oh, he just happened to have an extra ticket to your favorite musical. But he’s also taking you to a fancy restaurant beforehand?”

 

“It’s one of his favorite restaurants, and he wanted to take me there.”

Shoko blew smoke from the window to your balcony, shaking her head. “Boy, I bet you’re in for the surprise of a lifetime tonight.” You shot your best friend an annoyed glance in the mirror.

“We’re just friends—” Even though you wanted to be more than friends with the handsome, sweet, caring blonde you had fallen head over heels for. “so drop it.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Shoko put her cigarette out in the ashtray you had for her. “I cannot let you go on your date like—this.” She grimaced, eyeing your dress suit that skillfully hid your curves and thick thighs from the world.

You pouted, smoothing out the long skirt that went past your knees. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“What isn't wrong with it? You look like a mother at her daughter's wedding. Or an elderly college professor. Or you look like you’re about to go in for a job interview, trying to make yourself look more professional than you are.” 

Each very accurate comparison felt like a stab to your back. “Damn! Tell me how you feel. Sho, fuck.” She opened her mouth, and you quickly raised your hand, silencing her. “Wait, no, please don't,” Shoko smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you suggest I do?” Shoko, head to your closet, opening the door wide.

“The red one.” 

Nanami arrived at your door right on time. He took a deep breath, adjusting his burgundy tie, before knocking on the door. Tonight was the night he was going to confess how he felt, how he wanted to be more than friends. His nerves were strong as iron as he focused on the door. There was nothing in the world that would stop him.

Your door opened, and Nanami swore he felt like you had personally punched him in the gut. You looked stunning. The tight red fabric clung to your waist showing over your unique curves; his eyes trailed lower, and god, the dress's sides were slit open, allowing him to get a peek at your succulent thick thighs. You had never dressed like this around him before; by god, you were like a masterpiece right off a canvas.

“Kento, are you okay?” His eyes glued on you and you alone, leaving you slightly flushed. 

Your best friend shook his head, blinking before his gaze met you. “Oh, uhm, yes, yes, I am.” He did another quick glance over you. “I’m sorry, I just, I’ve never—” His eyes were glued on the slit in the dress. His expression was almost unreadable, making you feel like shrinking in on yourself. 

This was the first time you’d ever worn anything this revealing around him. Usually, you wore loose-fitting clothes, so wearing a form-fitting gown was different. Something that had rendered him speechless. Which could be a good thing or a bad thing. That was something you didn’t care to find out about.

“Different,” you answered for him instead, gripping your clutch as you stepped out. “So, uhm, should we get going?”

“Of course.” 

That initial interaction had set the tone for your entire evening. The drive to the delicious restaurant was quiet with stolen glances. Ones solely focused on your hips and your thighs. You had hoped maybe things would settle down once you sat down to eat at the restaurant. But things only seem to progress into something more. Nanami’s eyes seemed to linger on other patrons at the restaurant who passed you by.

Maybe wearing this dress was a mistake. You felt exposed to your best friend in the entire world and anyone that passed by. You tried to focus on what Shoko had told you to envision when she pulled the dress from the back of your closet. 

‘You’re a badass sexy bitch, own it!’

Yeah, owning it wasn't something you’d ever been comfortable doing. You had been a little thicker than others the entirety of your life. Dealing with that, being called names has taught you how to conceal yourself. If you wore all black and hid your supposed flaws behind layers of clothes, you would worry about anyone staring at you, which is exactly what everyone was doing.

Having people glance you over made your stomach sour as you tried to enjoy your food. You wanted to play it cool and make it look like nothing was wrong, but your attempts didn't go unnoticed. Nanami could see how you shifted; a visible unease etched into your pretty features.

That unease had you hugging yourself as you walked to the theater. You had hardly said a word to each other, and the tension felt thick. While you felt uncomfortable showing off so much, Nanami was beginning to think maybe you weren't having a good time. That's the last thing he wanted, so as you climbed the stairs heading toward your seats, Nanami stopped, tasting at your back. 

Noticing he was no longer behind you, you stopped turning to look back at him. “Kento? Everything okay?” You tilted your head to the side, watching him look you up and down.

“No, l.” he quickly closed the small distance between you, gently grabbing your wrist and walking you to an empty part of the theater where no one was. “Everything isn't okay.” You opened your mouth to ask why he felt that way, but he beat you to it. “I'm sorry if asking you on this date has made things uncomfortable or weird for you.”

Date? 

Wait, Shoko was right?! This really was a date?! Electricity shot went down your spine as your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. No words came to you as Nanami sighed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“I’m sorry; I don't want you to feel as though you have to do this to appease me. We can see the show as friends and act like this nev—”

“No!” You yelled out, grabbing his hand and holding it. “No! I want this to be a date! I-I thought we were—going as friends.”

Nanami’s face relaxed as he looked down at your hand gripping his. ”I guess I wasn't as clear with my intentions as I thought.” Honey-brown eyes trailed over your exposed skin. “But may I ask you a question?” You nodded. “What’s made you so distant tonight.”

“Oh, I just haven't—I don't normally dress like this.” you motioned down to the silk dress, hugging your curves in all the right places. “And, I—ugh, it's silly.”

“It's not silly if it’s coming from you; please tell me, talk to me.” 

“Well, you seemed stunned by my outfit. And you've been quiet all evening, staring at other people. So I thought maybe you were a bit embarrassed. I know I’m not the thinnest girl out there.”

In the blink of an eye, Nanami had you pushed against the nearest wall, out of sight from anyone who may pass you by. Both his large hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. You gasped, looking up to find a burning desire in his eyes that you had never seen before.

 

“Embarrassed? You seriously thought I was embarrassed?” His hand slowly trailed down your curves. “Darling,” he learned next to your mouth, the smell of wine and chocolate from dinner lingering on his breath. “I find you stunning. I'm more embarrassed by myself for letting my mind wander when it comes to how good you look in this dress. Do you know how hard it was to stop myself from gouging out the eyes of every man eye-fucking you at the restaurant?” 

You began panting as his hand trailed lower, teasing the exposed skin that peeked out from the slit in the dress. “T-That’s why you were glaring n-nngh.” Nanami hooked his hand under your thigh, lifting it to actress your sensitive skin more freely.

“Yes, I couldn't stand the way they were undressing you right in front of me.” The warmth of his fingers sent shivers throughout your body. “But I’m afraid to admit I’m not better than them.” 

“Oh, and why is that?” 

“Because I have wanted to do nothing more than kiss you since you opened your door this evening. Your curves, dress fit, and everything about you are stunning, no matter what you wear. But seeing you all dolled up for the first time had left me longing for you in primal ways.” 

You hooked your foot around the back of his thigh, watching his warm eyes grow wide as you grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss. Nanami moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he dug his fingers into the fat of your thigh, squeezing and massaging it. The tender, careless feel of his lips against yours had you whining into his mouth as his tongue caressed your bottom lip. 

The kiss was searing, full of desire, as Kento found himself shamelessly rocking his hips against you, trying to close the thin layers of clothes between you. Each kiss, each careless set your skin ablaze with need, as the taste of chocolate and white wine felt like fermenting into an aphrodisiac. With each kiss, you fell deeper and deeper into the passion, leaving you feeling drunk.

Nanami broke the kiss, pulling back far enough that a string of saliva connected your lips. “T-That was unexpected.” He admitted, fingers trailing further up your leg.

“But was it good?”

“It was the best kiss I’ve ever shared with someone. So yes, it was unexpected but good.” The way Nanami’s hands roamed over you left you feeling overly sensitive as you gripped his upper arms. “You're so beautiful. God, I wish I could take you home and truly worship every inch of your body.” 

“Well, the show only lasts two hours.”

“Which is going to feel like a millennium when you're sitting next to me looking like some kind of goddess.”

“Goddess?” You mischievously grinned, running your hand slowly down his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

Nanami grinned, squeezing your thigh before leaning next to your ear. “After this show, can I take you back to my apartment and show my devotion to you? Worship your body as if it were your temple?” You moaned, melting like butter against his chest.

“Yes, god, I would love that.”

“Good, I‘ll be sure to worship you thoroughly.” 

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo had a problem with your butt, and that problem was that he was obsessed with it. Every time you reached for something, your best friend made it a point to grab a handful of your big ole booty and squeeze it, which didn't bother you. If anything, you were flattered that this six-three muscular man likes your ass. 

Because Gojo was gorgeous, with tufts of pristine white hair, cerulean eyes that reminded you of the blues oceans, and lashes you would kill for, having someone like him rubbing your ass was a cnficmsence booster. You adored him and knew deep down inside that adoration for him would never grow into something else because you were just friends, nothing more.

Because you were a curvy queen, and Gojo was a gym rat. It didn't matter if that butt squeezes and long hugs often left you fantasizing about a more romantic relationship with him. You could dream and fantasize about that as long as you wanted, but that reality probably would never come to be. 

But that wouldn't stop you from secretly praying and hoping for that reality to be manifested. 

Most of your girlfriends supported you both; they tried to get you to ask him out, while his friends felt the same way as yours. All of your friends could see you both getting together. But not everybody was as kind. 

“Hello, dearie!” You shifted the brown grocery bags in your arms as you turned to look at your elderly neighbor and her grandson getting on the elevator with you.

“Hi, how are you?” You smiled sweetly as the elevator began moving up to the fourth floor.

“Oh, we're doing great! Where’s that boyfriend of yours? The tall, handsome one.”

Hearing her call Gojo, your boyfriend, left you feeling butterflies as you shifted the bags again. “Oh, Toru? He’s at the gym, and we’re just—” Her grandson scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes 

“They're not dating grandma.”

 

“Oh, sure they are!” She grinned, tilting her head to look up at her rude grandson. “What even makes you say they aren't?”

“He’s fit and handsome, and she's got a fat ass and a gut.” 

You winced at the sting of his words as the elevator stopped on your floor. “Takashi!” Your neighbor snapped at the older man, rolling his eyes. “That was rude! She's a beautiful young woman, apologizes.” 

“Look, I’m sorry.” He shrugged as the three of you stepped off of the elevator. “I just know you ain't my type. I don't like,” he gestured over to you, “this.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, I’m not into assholes myself.” You grinned sourly at the man before storming towards your apartment.

“Takashi!”

You ignored the pleading from your neighbor and the apologies she shouted. None of that shit mattered, not to you. You loved yourself and your body, and someday, you would find somebody who loved you for you. They would show up someday. 

While you did your absolute best not to let the comments from the jerk bother you, your heart still aches as you put away your groceries. You hated men like him. Men who found it necessary to point out a woman’s flaws, to put them down. 

It soured your mood, making you pout as you grumbled and shoved things in cabinets. You were fuming so much you barely heard the knock on your front or when the door unlocked courtesy of the spare key you had made. You didn’t realize anyone was there until hands grabbed your hips while loading the fridge. Fear rose in your throat as you began to scream, only to have a hand clasp over your mouth, silencing you. 

“Easy, sweetheart! It’s just me.” The smooth, almost sultry voice had you relaxing as Gojo chuckled warmly behind you, his hand pulling away from your mouth. “You listening to music or something?” He questioned, dropping his chin on your shoulder to examine your ears, finding no earbuds.

“No.” You bluntly stated before pulling away from your best friend and shutting the door.

“Oof, someone’s angry.” The warmth of your best friend followed you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you as tight as he could. “Angry that you hadn’t seen me in a while~?” 

Your anger faded as the smell of clean linen and musk invaded your senses. You found yourself melting into his touch, tilting your head back to ring him, staring down at you with big sparkly eyes that glimmered with amusement. No matter your mood, Satoru always seemed to make you feel better

“I’m fine—it was just a crappy day.”

Gojo hummed, pressing his lips together as he swayed with you. “I’m sorry, Sweetie; what made it so bad?” You hesitated before groaning, knowing if you were to tell him the truth, it most likely would end with him doing something irrational. But you also hated lying to your best friend.

“It was just a lot of running around, going to the store.” You sighed. “Plus, I just haven’t been feeling good.”

In the flash of an eye, you were whipped around and turned to face Satoru, whose hand reached up to feel your forehead. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, continuing to think if you had a fever. “You aren’t dizzy? Feeling sick, are you?” Your cheeks burned, losing yourself in the concerned look in his eyes. 

“N-No, not like that, not like that at all.” 

Gojo pulled his hand away, dropping it to his side. “Okay, then, what’s wrong?” he asked, watching you carefully. That careful gaze had you frowning as you sighed.

“I feel a bit bad about myself.” When your best friend copped an eyebrow at you as if you were speaking another language, you sighed, smacking his arm playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a hard time understanding why you feel bad about yourself.”

This time, you looked at him as if he was speaking some alien language. The man was cut out of a magazine. he was over six-feet tall had the most beautiful eyes, and he was handsome. There was no denying your best friend was good-looking. So, it only made sense that he wouldn’t understand how some people have insecurities about themselves. 

Gesture vaguely towards his body, moving your hand up and down as you focus on the mirror behind him. The last thing you wanted to make contact with him at the moment. Because he might not be secure about himself, he can read you like a damn book. 

“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like. You’re molded out of clay and given life by the gods themselves.” you moved your hand, gesturing to yourself. “I’m just curvy beyond all means. Unfortunately, not a lot of people are into that kind of thing. They don’t like a girl that’s bigger than them.”

Silence grew between you both as you tried to focus your attention on the mirror. Seeing him in such a state was shocking, but it was even more surprising to have him grab both your arms, squeezing them reassuringly.

Your mouth felt dry, and the room seemed to close in around itself as Gojo bent down closer to your height. In this situation, you weren't able to look away; Satoru made sure of that. You were stuck right where you stood, having to stare into the eyes of your best friend. 

“Who said that?” he asked, in a tone that could freeze hell over. 

“W-What?”

“I asked who said that load of bullshit to you so I can kick their ass.”

You flushed, shaking your head, not wanting him to beat up your neighbor's grandson, but the idea of it had you pressing your thighs together. Seeing your hesitant reaction left Gojo with a twisting sensation in his stomach. He knew something had been wrong when he wrapped his arms around you. Normally, you were touchy-feely, wanting to climb him like a tree, but today, you had been hesitant and standoffish, something he didn't like seeing you deal with. 

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Toru—it isn't that—”

He gave you a firm shake. “It is a big deal! Especially when somebody hurts you.” With a heavy sigh, you reached up gently, placing your hand on the upper arm. 

“Ugh, my neighbor thought we were dating, and I tried to tell her we weren’t, but her grandson beat me to it saying we aren’t dating. Because you're handsome, and I have a fat ass and a gut.”

“That—”

“I know its craz—”

“Motherfucker!” Gojo dropped his hands off your arms and growled, storming around the kitchen. You were too stunned to speak, just watching him closely as he grumbled and kept looking at the door that led out of your apartment, “I should kick his ass! I really should! That dick!” 

You blinked several times, watching as the white-haired man fumed. “W-Wait, you're angry about him saying that about me?” That got Gojo to stop as he turned to gawk at you. “What?! I'm just shocked you'd care about that; I thought you’d be more embarrassed over the face his grandma assumed we were dating.”  Your genuine shock and concern made Gojo grip the counter as he shook his head.

“The only person that doesn't think we're dating is you. Because God, I don't know how much more obvious I can be with you over the fact that I want to date you.”

“Y-You wanna date me?” You repeated back to him in stunned shock. “S-Since when?!”

“Since forever!” Gojo laughed out loud, shaking his head as he cock his brow at you. “I'm always over here, hugging you, telling you how much you mean to me. But every time I try to make a move, you toss me in the friend zone.

The words from your neighbor's grandson invaded your ears as Satoru stepped closer to you. “B-But I'm curvy, I have a gut!”

“And I love your curves and your tummy.” You stood still, allowing Gojo to cup your cheek gently. “Everything about you is perfect in my eyes. I wouldn't change a damn thing about you. Except for moving you away from that piece of shit.”

Your heart began to race at his confession, leaving you inching closer towards him. “Y-You're being serious right now. Are you not messing with me?” Gojo rolled his eyes so hard you could hear them roll into the back of his head.

“Sweetheart, I've been serious about you for years. You just were too blind to see that.” 

For all these years, you'd always thought that Satoru was just overly affectionate with you. Knowing there was a legitimate reason for him constantly caressing you and talking sweetly to you, all of your insecurities faded as you felt his eyes roaming over your skin. You could tell he was serious. He wanted you.

“Maybe you could be a bit more direct with me then.”

“Oh? You want me to be more direct?” 

Gojo wanted you to nod your head before he lifted you up and off the ground, placing you on the counter before kissing you deeply. Your eyes went wide at the sudden kiss, but you slowly found yourself melting into it, your hand gripping his tank top. You kissed him back with as much passion. Seeing that sort of expression, feeling your hands on him, only fueled the need in him. 

Gojo growled as he grabbed your thighs, kneading them with a groan as he seeped the kiss. “You’re so pretty, so damn pretty.” He whispered against your swollen lips. “All these other boys are stupid.” You moaned happily as he trailed his hand up further, sliding them. “Which I’m so thankful for.” He trailed kisses along your jaw with a sigh. “God, I really wanna beat his ass for making the prettiest girl in my world feel like that,” he pulled back, glancing back at the door. “I really should go beat his ass.” 

“I have a better idea” you grabbed his chin forcing him to look into your eyes this time. “How about you put your lips back on mine, and you kiss me and make up for lost time since I was so blind.”

Gojo grinned, picking you off the counter and carrying you to the couch, where he dropped you. He took a chance to look at all your beautiful curves. “God, you are so right.” He crawled on top of you, relishing in the way you whined and shivered. “We have lots of time to make up for, so you better clear your schedule because you are all mine until we’re both knocked out.” 

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[hellishjoel]

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

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Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?) 

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.   “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.  He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist. 

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

[cinnasweetss]

Out Of Bounds (M) - sim jaeyun

PAIRINGS: jake x female reader, afab reader

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is your little brothers best friend that knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you.

GENRE: smut, pwp.

CONTENT: jake is super whiny, one-sided pining, reader is slightly older, overuse of the word ‘noona’, jake def has a thing for older women, mentions of drinking, masturbation (m), mentions non consensual groping, mentions of verbal threats.

jake is everything but a pleasure to be around. endless flirting, groping, threats aimed at your boyfriend, and other unspeakable things. all done where no one can hear you beg him to just leave you alone, just this once. or hear him grumble about how much he likes you, and won’t stop.

jake is like your brother too, just a little bit more annoying. although his actions can be a bit much, you know he’s a kind hearted boy deep down with pure intentions. even if his actions can be a bit much. it’s nothing you can’t handle.

your never bring this up to your brother either. never would you deny him of a friend just because he has a very insatiable desire for you. boys will be boys! your friends say their siblings friends develop little crushes on them too. but jake’s feelings and wants for you are not little.

so, it’s no surprise that he calls you late at night after a night of drinking with your younger brother. overcome by the feeling of needing to hear his best friends older sister. just to settle him. that’s it.

your phone rings next to your pillow, pulling you from your slumber. it takes a minute for you to roll over, sighing when you pick up your phone and see ‘sim jake’ written across the screen.

“hmm? what is it?”

you know he’s been drinking. that’s why you don’t hesitate to answer. “Just…thinking about my noona.” his noona. you’re always referred to that way. his voice is slow and slurred, hinting at just how much he’s drank by now. “are you drunk?”

you have to say you're flattered. extremely. to be on his mind even when he’s drunk and has likely been around plenty of drunk women says a lot. “a lil- little bit..." you hear an exhale come through the speaker, and another noise follow. "jake, how much did you drink? do you need me to come get you?" you’re sitting up out of your bed, ready to throw on clothes and leave just incase he does need you. there’s a short pause before you hear his voice again.

“Can you- fuck... can you say my name again?" he sounds out of breath, and you can faintly hear some very suspicious sounds coming from the other end. those words mark a new boundary that’s been broken. adding to the multitude of broken boundaries. "what are you doing?" his tone sounded very suggestive, and it makes you stop, pressing your phone closer to your ear. "Thinkin' about you, noona..." he responds, and this time, he moans. "Jake..." you don’t mean to feed into him. not all all. you're just utterly shocked and at a loss for words. but most of all, worried about this would affect your relationship with him. "oh, fuck.” he's shameless in the way he moans, loud and whiny, begging you to say more. "tell me, noona..." he starts, moaning directly into your ear... "y-your panties...what color are they?"

“they’re…red..”

"ahhh, shit." you can hear him struggle with himself like he's imagining you in red panties , likely doing something lewd. "today...in the kitchen. did you like it? when I touched you?" ‘touched’ is too sweet of a word to describe what he did to you. groped, manhandled, fondled, is better. overpowering you when you tried to push his hands away from your chest, beg him to stop before your brother sees. tell him he must learn how to control himself.

“you cant...touch me like that...it isn’t right.” those are words you’ve said to him a million times before. words that go through one ear and out the other without a second thought. "cant help it. fuck, fuck, i'm so close! keep talking, please noona!" you can hear him increase speed in whatever he's doing, which, sounds exactly like he's jerking off.

"you're so pretty, too pretty, noona..." he rambles on in his fit of pleasure. telling you how much he wants to kiss you, and fuck you between very loud moans. "wish I could cum in you instead...agh! I gotta have you...gotta make you mine." his words bring heat to your cheeks despite the vulgarity of it all. "Jake..." you start, the other seemingly seconds apart from coming undone. "yes? yes, yes, noona!" he pants over the phone, whining and struggling to hold himself back from cumming before you get to respond. "maybe one day." those words from you are all it takes, a "fuck i'm gonna cum! i'm cumming! fuck!" being yelled into the speaker as he releases every pent up emotion he has for you in the form of one intense orgasm.

sim jaeyun, is way Out Of Bounds.

[esoteriamaya]

Astro Notes : Short N Sweet <3 Neptune's Revenge

Neptune 1st House - Popular energy. Very well known for their beautiful, majestic energy. Could have a lot of haters but admirers at the same time. Energetically sensitive to alot of others emotions. Sometimes, it can be a lil confusing holding so much power. Because their energy can be mixed up with someone elses if they don't know how to tell the difference. They usually have a strong sense of self, its just other peoples opinions can get in away of that if they arent careful.

Neptune 2nd House - Could use some help on the financial train. They're organic to the way they use their money. I mean, they could be super horrendous spender, spending each and every dime on any and everything. While still some how always having more in their wallet. Or they could be pretty good at saving and are a little bit of a cheapskate.

Neptune 3rd House - Whimsical voices. Poetic writers. Creative thinkers. Very talented when it comes to the hands as well. Could be excellent drawers & painters. Neptune in the 3rd has an ability to travel to very interesting places that aren't too far at home. They may go on lil adventures here and there. But its always a treat. Its kinda strange how well they can be at finding good eats as well with all the travel they do. Could work abroad or go to college somewhere out of their comfort zone a lil.

Neptune 4th House - Has a lot of secrets when it comes to the inner child. Very free, sweet loving children. Can open a door to different realms like we're in Narnia or something. Angelic creatures who enjoy alone time near their favorite place. If they ever share that special place with you consider yourself lucky. They normally keep the things they cherish hidden for a long time.

Neptune in the 5th House - Artists who seek deep into the art and become it. Very creative & a one of a kind with the way they carry the emotion in what it is they do. Can have you thinking hard on what it is they are trying to convey, they are a master at making complexities more harder to figure out. Just be there in the audience and watch the show. You'll never leave the same again.

Neptune in the 6th House - Fun loving pet owners, they go hard for the planet and the creatures that come from it. Real advocates for change and don't take too kindly to insensitive people. Could need to sharpen their boundaries a little more with people. Also, are incredible writers and should tap into this side a bit more. You might end up surprised with what talents you have that could make you some money, or could be a really cool job.

Neptune in the 7th House - Romance is the thing that just keeps on given to these individuals. May need to put the rose colored glasses down. that man might not be for you, love. Don't forget to put more time into your own needs versus the needs of someone else. Your compassionate energy may run dry if you're not using that waterfall of emotion for yourself. People are drawn to 7th house neptunes alot more than you think. They are capable of seeing thru the veil, you just don't notice.

Neptune in the 8th House - Psychologically understands the reasons on why the universe is the way that it is and why the people in it behave the way that we do. Could be honest about a lot of things, dishonest about what they know. The world doesn't need to know everything, which is why the divine gifted them with certain antidotes. Only they can use this so bring healing to a certain nation (or individual) but not everyone can find this secret the way they can. This is normally given to them by spirit guides, ancestors, or thru drreams.

Neptune in the 9th - Impracticality is almost their birth right. They see things in a way that doesnt make sense at all but to them it means something. What I mean is that these people see the world bigger than what they people tell them. They could have big drams and not understand why they have them, but God put them their for a reason. So you can figure them out. You may want to travel and study abroad, or just move somewhere different and don't know how. Thats where all the magic happens, finding out and taking the risk. The sagittarian way.

Neptune in the 10th - Majestic auras. The highlight of the moment. The star. The siren. The energy healer. Do I keep going? Very special creatures who touched this earth to make their dreams come true, even if they have to figure it out themselves. Empathetic to the people around them and are big on helping out with anything whenever they can. The Queens & Kings of the law of attraction. Can attract what they want if they just believe it in it more.

Neptune in the 11th House - Community leaders. Ancients who know they way to what the true reality is meant to be like. Literally can change the world with the way they move, think, and go around helping others. Sweet and lovely people to be around. Needs healing in their own friend groups. Can be a little out there, but thats why people love them.

Neptune in the 12th House - Practical minds in a world that tells them their crazy. No they arent crazy, they just have multiple psychic gifts. And these gifts have a way in showing them things people aren't usually equipped with handling. They need more time alone and in nature to keep themselves grounded. Other wise, they will go crazy from the world telling them that their crazy... When really they know a little more than what they led on. The imagination is a fun place, but also a place where the most hidden becomes entirely to open. Seers of the daylight & the night.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress. 

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say. 

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him. 

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this. 

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he’s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay. 

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look. 

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what. 

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him. 

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval. 

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori. 

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him. 

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild. 

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

 Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe. 

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit. 

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator. 

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again. 

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin. 

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly. 

Love. Love. Love. 

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call. 

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you. 

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks. 

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable. 

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.  

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately. 

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame. 

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat. 

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again. 

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?” 

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it. 

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable. 

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do. 

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is. 

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans. 

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks. 

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved. 

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.