#wait i know the answer: nothing. absolutely nothing

[angelx]

Say It Again

cw: nsfw: brat tamer!katsuki x fem!reader, taunting, brat taming, punishment, spanking, edging, fingering, dirty talking, degradation, praise, mention of safe word, hair grabbing, rough sex, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, long intro my bad

You'd been needling him all damn day.

Snide comments under your breath. Passive-aggressive digs over dinner. Calling him “perfect little pro hero” with that sarcastic lilt he hated. Not flirting. Not playing. Just pushing.

And he took it. Took it like the man he was—stoic, tight-lipped, jaw clenched. But he wasn’t stupid. He saw the way your eyes sparkled every time you poked the bear. You wanted him to break.

You just didn’t think he actually would.

You were sprawled across the bed now, scrolling your phone like you hadn’t just spent the last hour using your words like knives.

“You gonna glare at me all night, or are you finally gonna grow the fuck up?” you muttered.

Katsuki didn’t answer at first. He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. Breathing steady. Too steady. You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, say something. You’ve been pouting like a kicked puppy all day.”

Still nothing.

You smirked. Dangerous. “What, you don’t like it when I treat you the way you treat everyone else? Sucks being on the receiving end, huh?”

That’s when he stood up. Slow. Deliberate. Like he had to manually suppress the urge to snap your phone in half.

“You done?” he asked, voice low.

You shrugged, feigning boredom. “Not really. But I’m getting there.”

He took one step closer. “You think I won’t put you on your fuckin’ knees for that mouth?”

You looked up, defiant. "I think you’ve gone soft, Bakugou. You used to fuck the attitude out of me. Now you just sulk like a little bitch.”

That did it. That broke him.

His jaw ticked. His eyes narrowed like he was calculating how hard he could wreck you without breaking the bed frame. “What the fuck did you just say?”

You sat up, tossing your phone aside. “Oh, now you’re listening?”

He grabbed you by the jaw so fast it made your breath catch.

“You really wanna test me tonight, princess?” he growled, thumb pressed against your lower lip. “You really wanna see what the fuck happens when I stop being nice?”

“I’ve been waiting,” you bit back, lips curling into a grin. “Or maybe you’re all bark now.”

His hand dropped to your throat—not choking, just holding, reminding you he could. His voice dipped into something darker than anything you'd heard from him in weeks.

“You’re not gonna walk tomorrow.”

“Good,” you whispered. “Then maybe I’ll shut up for once.”

He threw you down on the bed. Clothes? Ripped. Panties? Torn off with one brutal yank. His hands were everywhere—manhandling, pinning, flipping you over like you weighed nothing.

You pushed him too far this time. The smart mouth. The taunts. The absolute disrespect. You wanted to piss him off. Needed him to remind you who the fuck you belonged to. And unfortunately for you?

He finally decided to indulge you. So now you’re naked—thrown over his lap like a spoiled little brat—squirming while his calloused palm delivers sharp, deliberate smacks to your ass, each one hotter and rougher than the last.

“You think this is a game?” SMACK.

His hand cracked against your skin with a force that echoed in the silence.

“You think you can mouth off, act like some insufferable little brat—” SMACK “—and I won’t do something about it?”

You gasped, legs twitching, body jostled forward with every hit. But you didn’t apologize. Not yet. Not when your pride still clawed at your throat.

“Go on,” he spat, towering over you, chest heaving with restraint stretched to its breaking point. “Keep fucking pushing me. Keep pretending you don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to.”

Another smack, harder, and you choked on a moan.

“I’ve been patient. I’ve held back. I’ve let you snap at me, mock me, bite every goddamn hand that tried to love you.” His fingers dug into the curve of your ass, nails biting into your skin. “And you think I won’t remind you who the fuck owns this body?”

Two more hits. Sharp, punishing. One to each cheek.

“By the time I’m done with you,” he growled, voice rough, dangerous, “You’ll be begging for mercy. You’ll forget every word except my fuckin’ name.”

You whimpered, eyes already burning. He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back just enough to see the panic-glazed lust in your eyes. You were already dripping, thighs twitching, biting back moans like it wouldn’t betray how much this punishment turned you on.

“Tch. Look at this pussy,” he sneered, fingers running between your soaked folds. “You get off on this shit, huh? Act like a bitch all day just to get your ass beat.”

He shoved two fingers inside you suddenly, and you gasped, hips jerking, grinding down on them—until he pulled them out.

“Ah ah. That’s not how this works,” he growled, dragging you off his lap and tossing you on the bed like you weighed nothing. “You don’t get to come. Not yet.”

He tied your wrists to the headboard. Loose enough to be safe, tight enough to make your heart race. You whined, tugging against the restraints. Even when he's rough, he still makes sure everything is safe. He will stop if she says she wants to stop, especially when she uses her safe word.

“Katsuki—”

Slap. Not hard, just a sharp sting against your inner thigh.

“Don’t talk. Not unless I say so.”

He dropped to his knees, pulling your legs apart. “You want my mouth?” he teased, breath ghosting over your soaked cunt. “You think you earned it?”

You said nothing. He didn’t move.

“Answer me.”

“…No,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

You swallowed. “N-No, sir.”

His grin was dark. Proud. Predatory.

“Damn right.”

And then he started—tongue lapping at your clit, slow and lazy. Teasing. Fingers spreading you open while he circled your swollen bud, humming like he was savoring dessert. You gasped, back arching, thighs trembling. But just when you were about to fall over the edge��He stopped. You screamed.

“KATSUKI—!”

Another slap to your thigh. He stood up, licking his fingers slowly, watching you fall apart. “You don’t get to come until you’ve learned.”

The edging didn’t happen once. Or twice. He edged you four times. You were sobbing by the end of it. Voice hoarse. Body thrumming with heat. Eyes glassy. Your thighs wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I need it—Katsuki, please, I’ll be good, I swear I’ll—”

He grabbed your face. “Say it again.”

“I’ll be good,” you hiccupped. “I’ll be so good for you, I swear, Katsuki, please—!”

That’s when he undid the restraints and flipped you onto your stomach, dragging your hips up to meet him. You barely had time to breathe. He didn’t even prep you. Just spat into his hand and stroked his cock once before shoving in, thick and unforgiving, dragging a broken moan from your lips.

You screamed.

“That’s it,” he growled, fucking into you like a man possessed. “Now you remember who owns this fuckin’ pussy. Who you come to when you’re desperate. When you need your bratty ass put in check.”

You tried to squirm away, gasping, but he pinned you by the hips and slammed back in, making you cry out.

“Not so smart now, huh? Where’s all that fuckin’ mouth?” He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back to whisper in your ear. “Say some shit now. I dare you.”

You couldn’t. Not through the breathless moans and hiccupped cries. He fucked you rough, mean, brutal like punishment. Your legs shook. Your body curled in on itself. He pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until your voice was gone, your mascara was running, and your defiance was just gone.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Only cry and moan and thank him, even when your orgasm hit like a truck—violent, involuntary, and so intense you thought you might black out. He didn’t stop. Not when you clenched. Not when you whined. Not when your legs gave out.

“I’ll tell you when we’re done,” he hissed. “You come when I say. You stop when I’m satisfied.”

When he finally came—deep inside, growling through his teeth—he didn’t pull out. He leaned over you, breathing heavily, his weight keeping you caged beneath him.

You were shaking, panting, ruined—but when he pulled you into his chest afterward, kissing your forehead and whispering “You did so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” it was almost enough to make you cry again.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

check out my other works here!: MHA MASTERLIST

[jeremywhitley]

My Aces and Aros Story

While I have a minute, I wanted to talk about how I got involved in editing an anthology. Editing isn't usually my gig, but it's actually very personal, so maybe buckle in? If you just want to TLDR, here's the link, support Ace stories and creators!

DO IT!

This story goes all the way back to the beginning of my comics making career. As many of you know, my first widely published book was a book called Princeless about a black princess who decided to save herself instead of waiting around to be saved. It got this great queer female fanbase really quick and a lot of them asked me "Is Adrienne Gay?"

The unsatisfying answer was "It doesn't matter, this story is about not needing to be saved, sexuality is beside the point". However, I and those readers really liked the idea of telling a story of queer heroine in the world and thus Raven Pirate Princess was born.

Spinning Raven off meant giving her a crew and I wanted that crew to be filled with queer women of different stripes from different parts of life and that meant doing some research into sexualities I knew little about. Eventually, I decided to make Quinn (seen here carrying her girlfriend Zoe to safety) demisexual.

The result of that research was me doing a lot of looking into demisexuality and going "But isn't that just everyone?"

Reader, it is not.

It is me though.

That took me a while to digest and come around to, but eventually a I came out. I'm very happily married and in love, so daily it changed nothing.

EXCEPT...

It absolutely did. There's an immense power in having a name for that thing that is going on inside your brain that makes it not like other brains. It's incredible to be able to say "this is how I am" and have people understand.

Time went by and then I got this cool invitation from @alannawrites.bsky.social who was putting together a team of aspec creators to write a story about a certain girl who had been displaced into a comic book world coming to terms wither asexuality. You may have heard of her.

Or possibly played as her in a popular video game

Here I got to work with an all aspec team of creators for the first time in my life and tell a story that I hadn't realized I'd been working on my whole life. And having moments where something that spoke to me also spoke to that team was amazing.

We felt like we were all from the same planet...

It was an incredible feeling I then got to experience at every convention I did that year as more and more people came up to and came out to me, talking about how much it meant to see their experience, which is so rarely explored in comics, on the page. That was something else and you all mean the world to me.

So, when @comicuno.bsky.social & @philfalcowrites.bsky.social asked if I wanted to coedit an anthology full of stories about and by ace folks, the idea of getting to facilitate a ton more people having that experience was way too much to pass up. I mean...imagine...

I knew I wanted to write a story for the anthology as well, but I wasn't sure what to write about. I knew I wanted to bring back

@bailierosenlund.bsky.social and

@kellysue.bsky.social who had made our Marvel story so perfect. Then it hit me, there was one story that would be the perfect intro

So our story is called "Introduction" and it's about the Ace umbrella, learning we were under it, and finding community through making a comic where we all got to share our ace experience with eachother. Now, we're comic book characters and you an support a lot more people having this experience

[dulcecherub]

Synopsis: Sofia Flores is a junior resident at Kildare Hospital. All she wants is to prove herself. Be the best at what she does. But she can’t help the feelings she’s developing for Rafe Cameron. The son of Ward Cameron, the er attending. They also own the hospital. If it couldn’t get more messier than that. The last thing she needs is a relationship that can turn sour. But… shes falling fast and hard.

Author’s note & disclaimer: this is not meant to be a 100% accurate representation of how hospitals work. So please do not see it as such. Nor am I attempting to make it accurate. I know I’m going to get some things wrong. Honestly maybe all of it. I’m clearly not a professional so some of it might just be so I can move the story forward. This is just meant to be a fun little series. I will try and do my research on certain topics. I won’t lie, I will be touching upon some heavy themes. So be warned ahead of time. Also they’re obviously aged up. All the Pogues are around their late 20s. While Sofia and Rafe are in their 30s. Also he’s nothing like canon Rafe. Sorry… not really. Not proofread!

Warnings: mentions of abuse, graphic depictions

MASTERLIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Chapter One: The Jane Doe

7:45 am

Sofia clicked her pen closed, then began to tap it against her sheets. There was no information about this patient. She’d scoured the whole entire portal for anything. Medical records, past and present. She came up short; which was words for absolutely nothing. Just like every case of these, it’s almost like the person never existed. The only evidence of them, their physical body. Nothing more. Sofia turned to look towards the glass doors. Towards the woman on the gurney in Trauma Bay 3. She couldn’t be much older than her early twenties. She let out a breath of frustration. She couldn’t help but feel a tug at her chest. The woman was horribly injured—

“Found anything?” Dr. Carrera asked, Sofia turned to see Kiara looming over her. She bite her lip, shaking her head.

“Another Jane Doe.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Sofia looked back at her screen once more, since there was no use in looking anymore. She got up from her seat.

“I’m going to go and let Dr. Cameron know.”

“Rafe or Ward?”

“Ward.”

Kiara made a face but didn’t say anything more. She sat where Sofia was previously. Sofia made her way towards Trauma Bay 3. Passing by patients. Passing family members, she stared briefly at one woman who was holding, what seemed to be her husband’s; hand. Sofia winced once she saw his face. Then quickly masked her face. She finally found Ward, observing over a medical student.

“What’s their BP?” Ward asked, his eyes on the screen. Clearly knowing the answer but needing the response of his student.

“Uh uhhh.” The young man was sweating profusely, he held an IV in his hand. Meant to be attached to the patient. But he seemed to be waiting for Ward’s instructions.

“That’s not an answer. The patient cannot wait for your hesitancy.” Ward looked over to his student. “What’s the patients BP?” He asked once more.

“124 over 77. Uh normal for his age.” The young man wiped his brow, eyes whipping to look over at Ward. Ward nods, smiling.

“Good. Good. Now you’re going to find his vein and insert the IV. You know how to do that, correct?”

Sofia cleared her throat, Ward eyes met hers. His face not really changing.

“We have a Jane Doe on our hands.”

Ward lets out a breath of exasperation, merely nods and steps away from the medical student. “Dr. Routledge will help assist you. I trust you’ll be in good hands.” The medical student glances towards John B who smiles. He stands next to the machine reading out the patients vitals. She spots the other doctors and nurses around the 40 year old patient. Sofia only glanced briefly before she follows Ward out.

“Jane Doe, you say?” Ward asks, his eyes ahead of him. His strides strong and steady. Sofia practically runs to catch up.

“Uh yes, Dr. Cameron.” Ward nods, as he continues to walk towards Kiara. She stiffens; as he leans over to stare over the computer. “Two policemen came in, along with our EMS team. Charge nurse Rose-Maria brought them to our senior resident, Dr.Callahan.”

Ward nods.

“No medical records?”

“She says her name is Ally. But she also said she’s not sure about that fact. So no medical records and the patient has no recollection of her name. Not even who she is. Or where she is. She’s not even aware of the year we’re in. After a while, her speech began to slur. So we rushed her over to one of the Trauma Bays.” Kiara answers.

“Brain injury then.”

“Yes, seems like a case of TBI. Her head was split open. She was barely conscious. Kept slurring her words.”

“She was found on the side of the road.” Sofia mentions. “With cuts all over her body. Her head split open from the top of her head. Barely conscious as Dr. Carrera explained. One of her eyes is swollen shut.”

“We gave her 8mg of morphine for the pain. That should be able to reduce the neuroinflammation and the blood-brain barrier. As well as, able to improve the neurologic and hisopathologic injury.✦ So far it seems to be doing so.”

Ward nods, “Let me see her.”

“Uh, Ward. Dr. Cameron is working on her currently. Trauma Bay 3.” Kiara says, she faces Ward head on now. He just nods once more.

“No worries.” He pads away towards Trauma Bay 3. Once he does Kiara lets out a deep breath. Sofia only smiles, Kiara closes her eyes.

“Don’t start.” Kiara says, Sofia finally lets out a giggle.

“You know, you don’t have to be scared of him.” Sofia leans against the desk. Her mind briefly away from the Jane Doe and how she managed to get herself in such a predicament.

“I’m not scared… I just, I just want him to like me.” Kiara nearly whispers, Sofia has to lean in a bit to hear.

“He’s not as scary as he looks.”

“Says you, he loves you. I heard him tell one of the higher ups that you’re one of his best residents. Better than Rafe.”

Sofia felt her face heat up, she could only imagine how red she was in the face. She had no words, she hadn’t expected him to think so highly of her. To her, she was doing the best that she could.

“Oh that’s not tr—”

“Hi Kie.” Nurse JJ says, he leans against the counter. Kiara only purses her lips.

“Dr. Carrera.”

“Right. Dr. C. I just wanted to wish you a happy morning.”

“Nothing is ever happy on the trauma side of the hospital.”

Sofia took her sign to walk away, not wanting to see JJ fail at flirting with Kiara… again. She stepped toward the opposite side of the wing. Towards Trauma Bay 3. She walked in carefully, letting the door slid shut. Sofia notices Jane Doe has already been intubated by Rafe. —Rafe eyes were immediately on her.

“Dr. Flores.” He blinks rapidly, Sofia eyes widen. Her hands behind her back.

“Dr. Cameron.” Her eyes stayed glued to him, until she remembers who else is in the room. Ward. And the last thing she needs is for him to suspect anything. She also notices Dr. Heyward and now Dr. Routledge in the room as well. A few nurses and student doctors. She clears her throat for the second time that day. Blinking rapidly to hide any emotions trying to peek through.

“I wanted to check in with our Jane Doe. She came in pretty bad shape. I wanted to help in any way I can.”

He blinks again, his brows raising, before he can utter a word. The machine begins to beep uncontrollably. Ward snaps his neck towards it, “Her oxygens levels are decreasing.”

Pope and John B begin to look over the monitor. They share a look. Sofia can only imagine how bad things have taken. She turns towards Jane Doe, her face barely recognizable. Sofia couldn’t even map out her features. Ward examines her head, running his gloved hand gently against the open wound. Her brain visible, Sofia has seen it all for this to barely phase her now. She notices one of the medical students eyes bulge out of her head. Sofia remembers that feeling, seeing more of someone. Of knowing them truly from the inside and out. She notices the way the students hand shakes as she hands Ward a scalpel. He takes it into his own with ease. Steady.

Jane Doe body begins convulses, her eyes rolling behind her head. Ward lets go, as Rafe turns her to the side, her mouth facing the ground. He holds her, as Sofia finally draws closer to help. “Come on Jan Doe, stay with me.” He mutters to the patient. “We already did a CT scan of her brain. CSF leaking. Seems to be a mild brain injury. But still will consider it a TBI, since she doesn’t seem to recall herself and where we were. We also intubated her because her airways were blocked. Originally the plan was to stitch back her head. But clearly things have taken a turn.”

“We need to get her into emergency surgery stat.” Sofia says, as she moved towards the gurney. “Her oxygen levels should not be decreasing with her being intubated.”

“We’re going to need to prescribe Carbamazepine.” John B says, “Will help with the seizure.”

“That’ll have to wait after.” Ward says, his eyes also on the monitor.

“We’re going to need to reduce the swelling on her eye as well.” Pope says, his attention on Jane Doe eye.

“That’s right, we’re going to need to get Triescence.” Rafe says, now also eyeing the patients swollen eye.

Sofia looked back at the Jane Doe, her eyes scrunching up in sympathy. How did she end up like this? In Kildare Hospital, her name forgotten from her own lips. Her idea of home non-existent because she didn’t remember herself. Sofia blinked back tears. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t know who she was. She bet Jane Doe wouldn’t have either.

Whoever did this. Or whatever occurred for this to happen. Sofia could only hope Jane Doe was able to survive it.

9pm

A rapid tapping noise jolted Joyce forward. She looks up to see a woman, no younger than 30, practically banging against her glass.

“Ma’am, please stay calm. If you want my help. You cannot bang against this glass.” Joyce says firmly. Her eyes meeting the woman’s.

“My sister! Is she okay?! Ally Robertson! She—she— oh god she was left on the side of the road! I-I told her not to go to that stupid audition. That it was a scam and she didn’t listen! Please, please I was told she might be here.” The woman’s words nearly running against each other. Her face crumbled into horrified tears, her mouth down casted.

“Ma’am please slow down. Take a deep breath and sta—”

“My sister Ally Robertson is hurt! What are you not understanding?! Is she here or not?”

“Ma’am—”

“Ally? Her name is Ally?” Kiara says, coming closer to hear what the lady has to say. She’d been printing some paperwork out. When she heard the woman begin to yell and tap aggressively against the glass of the receptionist window. —The woman head juts up and down. Her lower lip trembling.

“Yes! Yes! Ally Robertson!” The woman hand stays on the glass, despite Joyce’s protest against it.

Kiara eyebrows go from furrowed to rising in shock. “Oh my god. Give me one second please.” Kiara nearly bolts back into the trauma bays, her eyes landing on Rose-Maria.

“What room is our Jane Doe again?” Kiara asks in a hurry.

“Uh, trauma bay 3.” Kiara, once again nearly bolts.

“Kie, Kie con calma.” Kiara isn’t listening, as she nearly collided with JJ. Who lets out a umph. Before his lips twitch into a smirk.

“Woah, no need to be all over me now.” He jokes.

“Now’s not the time JJ.” She manages to swivel past him and into Room 3.

“I think we might have a name for Jane Doe.” All the doctors, nurses and student doctors head swivels to stare. “I think her sister is in the lobby.”

Rafe and Sofia share a look this time. Sofia nods, as if the two of them spoke a secret language; only the two of them understood.

“We’re going to have to let her sister see her. But once after we do the emergency surgery. She won’t be able to identify her yet.”

The nurses began to prepare for the surgery. Rafe went to grab himself a new pair of gloves. As everyone else went around the patient. “We need to perform an subdural hematoma.”

“Why not an epidural?” Pope asks.

“It’s either or. But I rather do a subdural.”

No one questions him. Not even his own dad, everyone just nods and begins to prepare for the procedure.

Reese, as the woman finally gave her name, explains how her sister was searching for auditions on google. Since her agent hadn’t been able to find her any gigs. She’d found one on what seemed to be a reputable website.

“I knew in my gut it was a scam. I just knew something was going to go wrong. And now…” Reese begins to sob into her hands, as Cleo, the social worker of the hospital sits next to her. Placing her over some of the tissues she’d provided.

“I understand this situation is scary. I can’t imagine how you must feel. But our doctors and nurses are doing everything they can to help her.” Her Caribbean accent peeks through as she tries to soothe Reese.

“Can I just—” Reese hiccups, “can I just know any updates on her. I don’t care how bad it might be. I just need to know. I can’t take this anxiety anymore.”

Cleo brows furrow in concern, she nods. “Of course, as soon as I get word of any more information. I’ll let you know how she is.”

Reese nods her head, she holds a crumpled up tissue in her hand. She lets out a shaky breath, blinking away her tears.

“Is it- is it bad that I’m angry with her?” Reese whispers to Cleo.

“You’re allowed to feel angry. Especially since you mentioned she hadn’t fared your warning.” Reese rubbed her nose against the tissue.

“I just can’t help but feel guilty for being angry. Like she’s in here, that should stir some sympathy. But I’m just so mad. At her, those men and what they did to her. I just feel so fucking angry.” Her leg began to bounce, her face hardening, staring off into space.

Cleo nodded, her eyes still showing sympathy. “That’s completely understandable. Just know the hospital is working with the police to find out who did this to her. You’re not alone in this, Miss. Robertson.”

“T-thank you, I’m so sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have hit the glass. I was just—you don’t understand. She and I, as much as our relationship is rocky. I love her and I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

Sofia walked into the room, her eyes landing on the patients sister.

“Hi, I’m Dr.Flores. I came in to update you on the status of your sister.” Reese eyes widen as she nods rapidly.

“Yes, yes is she okay?”

“At the moment, she’s in surgery. She came in with a pretty bad head wound. We found out she also had TBI. Which just means traumatic brain injury. We’re doing the best that we can. But uh—” Sofia glances over to Cleo, who seems to be listening intently. Sofia sits down next to Reese on her opposite from Cleo. “We think she’s going to be paralyzed from her left side of her body.”

“Oh god.” Reese began to cry into her tissue.

“I know this is all hard to hear.” Cleo begins, “But please trust that our doctors are doing the best they can to help your sister.”

“That brings me into another point. Do you know what could have happen for her to end up this way?” Sofia chimed in, focused in on Reese. Reese nods once more.

“She got scammed. She thought she was going in for an audition. Then I didn’t hear from her in over 24 hours. I got worried and then I got a call that she might be in this hospital. Apparently she’d been left on the side of the road. All banged up and—” Reese sobbed into her tissue once more, Sofia eyed her with compassion. Her eyes softening.

“This must be so hard on you. I’m so sorry you have to be in this situation. As our social worker Cleo has mentioned, she is in very good hands. Dr. Cameron is one of our best in Kildare Hospital. He’s doing the best he can to ensure your sister comes out of this alive and well.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Sofia nodded.

11:22am

Sofia stood opposite of Rafe as he carefully stitched back up, who they now know as Ally. Ward had been taken to another patient who came in from a car accident.

Ally’s eye was finally not as swollen as when she came in. Her face starting to become a bit recognizable. Sofia couldn’t help but watch him. He was so amazing at what he did. He was always so calm and collected. His tongue stuck out a little as he concentrated on stitching back her head.

“The procedure was successful. I was worried there for a second we were going to lose her.” He says, Sofia eyes widen.

“Really? You were worried she was going to die on us?”

“Yeah. I always worry. Don’t-don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Of course not.” Their eyes meet, he flashes her a small smile. It feels for a second as if the world had stopped just for them to look into each other’s eyes. A world of their own. No one able to disturb it.

Until, he clears his throat.

“Alright, let charge nurse Rose-Maria know we can bring in Ally sister.” He looks over to Ally. “She should be waking soon enough.”

Sofia is already taking off her white scrub, as she walks towards the glass doors.

“Got you.”

“I know you do.”

Sofia fights back her blush as she smiles at him. Before heading back to Cleo and Reese.

As Reese walks in, the policemen also follow. “We presume she was kidnapped. Seems to be a group effort, kind of thing.” One of the policemen relies to Reese.

Sofia jaw ticks as she listens in. Her hand turning into a fist. The idea that a group of people could do this to someone.

“Men?”

“We presume so. These kinds of injuries. We don’t think—”

Sofia then shuts them out. Not wanting to hear anymore, her eye’s focusing on the glass doors. At least, she’s safe. At least, now she was here and not with those awful people. Her stomach churns, she shakes her head. Fighting back tears, she seen the worst of the worst here. But the idea of someone hurting someone to the point, where they were now paralyzed on one side of their body. Her eyes swollen to the point of being unrecognizable. Sofia wished she could find who it was and—

“In here.” She doesn’t even realize she’d spoken until she does. No time for disassociating. She needed to present.

2:13 pm

Sofia craned her neck, rubbing it as she circled her head. Sarah stood in the elevator with her.

“You two are so obvious.” At first, Sofia isn’t sure what she’s talking about. Until she sees the smirk on Sarah’s face. Sofia face begins to flush and Sarah lets out a giggle.

“Can we not.” Sofia says, trying to hide her flush.

“You know, I’ve never seen my brother crazy about anyone.” Sarah just grins towards Sofia. “And he seems really crazy about you.”

“We work together, Sar. Plus I’ve been there. Done that. Remember Lucas.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think anyone can forget your asshole of an ex husband.” Sarah grimaces. “He’s still being a bitch about seeing Seth and Carmen?”

“He says if he lives on the opposite side of the country. Why should he have to see them. It’s fine. It’s not like they want to be around him anyway.”

“It’s not fine, Sof. He can’t just treat you and your kids like that.”

Sofia rubbed her brow, puffing out her lips. “Well, he does so what can I do. It’s like he’s still punishing me for divorcing him.” Sofia looks ahead, watching as the numbers on the elevator move up. “What he doesn’t realize is he’s punishing them too.”

A silence creeps upon them. Sofia feels Sarah’s hand on her arm.

“He never deserved you.” Sofia places her hand over Sarah’s. Sofia squeezes her hand gently.

“Like you said, he’s a bitch.”

Both woman begin to laugh. The elevator finally lands on the NICU. Sarah begins to step out.

“Thanks again for lunch Sar. Without you, I think I wouldn’t remember to eat.”

“Of course Dr. Flores. Anything for you.” Sarah blows Sofia a kiss before the door closes once again.

Sofia lets out a sigh, her mind wandering towards Lucas. The wood crackling as she sat next to him in the fire place. Their home together, one she’d always dreamed of. The grand staircase leading to high ceiling rooms, so spacious it all felt like a dream. One, that crawled in her stomach, one she knew she was going to wake up from. The inevitable creeping up on her. The anxiety like tree branches stretching and stretching…

She remembers it, the first time he’d laid his hands on her. The sting of it, the disbelief that someone she thought who loved her could hurt her; like that. She knew if Sarah knew the full story. If anyone knew the full story. That they couldn’t ever look at her the same way again. Sofia wouldn’t be able to stomach the idea of anyone treating her differently. Just because of what he’d done to her. She didn’t want to be defined by her past. By her ex shitty husband. She would carry this heaviness, it was hers and hers alone to bear.

The elevator opened up back to her floor. She watched as people speed on by. The beeping of machines hitting her ears, as Kiara and Rose-Maria huddle together. Talking amongst themselves.

Ward was motioning the student doctors to one of the trauma bays. Engrossed in his conversation with them to spare a glance at anyone else.

“I haven’t seen you all day after the whole Jane Doe situation. I wandered were you wander off too.”

Sofia jumps back, her eyes trailing up to stare Rafe in the face. He smiles at her, softly and gently. And she swears, she can hear everything become background noise.

Rafe lets out a chuckle, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no it’s okay.” She shook it off, as if she were shaking rain off of her body. Her lips pursing. “Uh I went to go get lunch with Sarah.”

He nods, but his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“You good?”

“Oh, uh yeah. All good. No need to worry about me Dr. Cameron.” She mustered up a smile and looked up at him. His brows were still scrunched together.

“How’s the kids? Carmen and Seth?”

“Oh, they’re good. As good as preteens can get.” Rafe chuckles, Sofia attempts a chuckle that she knows to her own ears doesn’t sound as carefree.—It seemed such an easy thing for him to do. She doesn’t know how he never takes any of this home with him.

“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear it. I was actually wondering-”

“Dr. Cameron! A patient came in with a broken pelvis, shoulder and hip.” Rafe snapped his neck towards a nurse, nurse Cruz He stood waiting for Rafe.

Rafe brows crinkle further, he juts out his lower lip in concentration. He stalks over to nurse Cruz. Sofia right behind him. “Those are random places on the body to correlate with one another. Car accident?”

“No, trapeze.”

Both Rafe and Sofia raise a brow.

“She’s a circus performer. The netting broke, she fell from pretty high up.”

“Shit.” Rafe followed nurse Cruz towards the circus performer; while Sofia stood back.

“New patient!” Rose-Maria yells, as Sofia hurries over. She meets Barry, one of the EMS workers. As they lead a new patient in.

“55 year old woman. Heart attack. We had to intubate her while we were on our way here.”

“She seems stable now. But her BP was going over the normal range.” Kelce explains as he helps Barry wheel her in.

The woman doesn’t speak, “She’s also deaf so we did the best we could. Neither of us know sign language.”

“No worries, I do.”

‘I’m doctor Flores. Can you tell me your name?’ Sofia signed.

The patient attempted to raise her hand, but her hand shook.

“Okay, let’s take her to Trauma Bay 2.” Kelce and Barry hurry to take the new patient to Trauma Bay 2. As Sofia follows after them.

“Nurse Maybank, can you come with me? Also bring in two of the student doctors. Rugg and Johnson.”

JJ nods as he motions the two of them along with him and Sofia.

“Come on, let’s go teach these students about heart attacks.”

8pm

Sofia placed her keys onto the tray in her front door.

“Mom?!” Carmen yelled from the living room.

“I’m home!” Sofia yelled back, walking into the living room. She walked towards Carmen, kissing the top of her head. “I left you guys dinner in the fridge. Just had to heat it up. Did you?”

“Yeah, Seth served me.”

“That’s good. Where is he?”

“In his room, studying.” Carmen stares up at her mom. Her eyes searching Sofia’s face. “How was work today?”

Sofia’s mind flashes to everything that occurred that day. Her mind not letting go of what happened to Ally. Their Jane Doe.

“Same old, same old. You took a shower right?”

Carmen nods, “I had soccer practice after school. So yes, I was not about to stink.” Sofia chuckles as she moves away from her daughter.

“I should probably do the same. You better have done your homework too, missy.”

Carmen rolls her eyes and nods. “Fine, I’ll go do that now.” She follows Sofia out of the living room. “Did you see Rafe today?”

Sofia stiffens up a bit, before smiling over at her daughter. “I work close with him. Of course I did.”

Carmen begins to smirk. “He likes you.”

“Carmen, what did I say?” Sofia scolds.

“What? You want me to lie?”

“Go do your homework.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen heads into her room before shutting the door. A smile still present on her face. Sofia lets out a deep sigh before walking towards her own room. Preparing to hop into the shower.

“Kids.” She murmurs to herself.

Sources: ✦https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0361923021002586

[brotherwtf]

I think you’ve done a Bucky getting tied up hc in the past, but what if we add more edging and teasing to it 😈 Bucky lets a girl flirt with him and Gale is feeling mean so later that night he tied Bucky to the bedpost. Gale teasing him until Bucky is actually starting to get mad and tearing up, sniffling his nose. And Gale finally lets Bucky cum, not before he made the older man beg of course

yep pretty much just this thank you anon you've crawled into my brain

dom Gale who always lets John have a little leash, lets him have a little fun until of course he abuses that and Gale needs to put him back in his place

maybe they're out for drinks like they like to do, Gale's drinking his coke while John digs himself deeper and deeper into a hole, arms starting to become easy and lips moving before his brain can and Gale knows he's going to be in for it later already

he's flirting with anyone and anything with a pulse, which Gale doesn't care about really, that's John's default setting, but what bothers him is when he actually goes to dance with a girl, his hand dangerously low on her waist and Gale absolutely cannot have this

when John comes back, hair ruffled and brow sweating, Gale bats his hand away from him and just grabs his arm, dragging him out to the car without a word and John can't help but get foolishly hard at how jealous Gale gets

Gale ordering John to strip immediately when they get home, tells him to only leave his boxers on and lay on the bed and wait, John goes so easily too that Gale almost thinks he doesn't deserve this punishment... almost

"what have I told you about dancing with girls, darling?" Gale asks, voice low and dangerous as he holds a silky smooth rope in his hands

John has a grin on his face that Gale wants to wipe off, he's spreading his legs wide like he's willing to accept this punishment and when John doesn't give a response he silently moves to tie John's hands to the bedposts, tight enough so he can flex his hands but can't move, leaving his legs free

that's when he starts touching him, light, finger light touches, small grazes of fingertips over John's hot skin, barely touching the hairs on his naval or chest, delicately tracing the hem of John's boxers as he leans down to John's face, breath hot on him but not doing anything, not saying anything either, feeling the way John's breath kicks up ever so slightly

his fingers graze John's hardened cock covered by his boxers and his hips kick up with a small gasp, too pleased for Gale's liking, but Gale knows this is the long con so he allows John to briefly take his pleasure

"are you going to behave, John? I know you know how to behave," Gale whispers, watches John's eyelashes twitch under his words

John bites his lip and nods briefly, hands gripping into fists while his legs shake, Gale's fingers still just tracing the outline of his cock

"answer me, with words," Gale hisses, gripping John's cock almost cruelly with his fists

John curses, hips bucking upwards into Gale's hand that immediately eases pressure, continuing with his feather light, teasing touches

"fuck... fuck .. yes Gale, yes I can be good," John curses, stuck between small gasps as he tries to cant his hips away from Gales almost cruel touches at this point

"I don't believe you, baby," Gale says, grazing his lips over John's forehead and sighing, feels the warmth of his clammy skin underneath his own and grins

he continues his touches until there's a beautiful sheen of sweat on John's forehead, bearing and dripping down his temple, until he's panting and whimpering incoherent words, words like "please, I can't, stop, I need,", his hips thrusting upwards with every beg and cry, hands grappling around nothing

Gale will eventually let him come, he's not cruel, but not until John absolutely begs for it, and then he kisses him down from his high always, always holds and cradles him like the baby he is, cooing about how good he is :))

[hanayori89]

🪶🪶 Truth March🪶🪶

The harshest critic you knew aside from Eagus would be yourself.

But studying your reflection in the river's edge, for the very first time, your inner critic was left mute.

After all, what was there to criticize when the image glaring back at you was nothing short of unalloyed perfection.

And that was because it was Hylia's love sonnet formed of human flesh, Zelda.

"I-I can't go through with this..." Zelda's silky voice drifted from your lips, forcing you to clamp your hands over your mouth. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to put your hand down your throat and cut your vocal cords like you were snipping Zelda's harp strings.

Beside you, ripples that formed slits cut up the murky image of you in the nearby gully that trickled past your leather-adorned gladiator sandal-wearing feet. You never wore sandals. You hated having your feet out. Ghirahim looped an arm around your shoulder, a slick, all-knowing grin devouring his face. "Look at these reflections. Who is it the hero would choose?"

"He could choose Zelda for all I care." You backed away from the cursed image of your soul decorated with Zelda's skin and bones. You began to shake your head in protest before you declared. "I will not lay claim to his heart by deceitful means."

"Ungrateful!" He hissed, except it now came out in your voice. The realization of what was going to happen next caused your skin to pimple with trails of goosebumps. Your voice continued to speak through Ghirahim's lips. "I've given you a gift, and in return all I ask for is the revival of my master."

"Your master? That deranged turd hidden beneath the ground?"

"You insolent brat!" A sharp pain sliced into your lower abdomen, causing you to double over with labored breath. You looked up, seeing Ghirahim's hand squeezed into a fist so tight, his bony knuckles punctured the nylon of his white opera gloves.

"AH!"

"Now, here is how this is going to happen. We will return to that temple where the old hag and the lumpy, brainless boy are. You will say that you came down here in search of "Link." And I, being you, will say that I found you on my way back to the sealed ground. Any mention of me and my magic and—" a depraved laugh sounded from the back of his throat. "I swear on my master that the pain you are witnessing now you'll beg for."

His fist slowly began to unclench, and with it the pain subsided. You remained on your knees, cradling your gut as you rocked back and forth. You should have told Link the truth about the Skyview Temple.

Why did you always have to hide from him?

All of this was because you couldn't let him in. You had to keep him at arm's length. You had to be better. 

When in actuality, Link had been right, this had nothing to do with being better.

Or right.

Because this being, Ghirahim, was an absolute monster. You watched as he snapped his fingers, transforming into a perfect clone of you.

Ghirahim, this creature, while he was slightly scary the first go-around, you had originally found him nothing more than comical. Surely evil would not parade around in gaudy makeup and a body stocking.

 But make no mistake, the power you witnessed to mimic and manipulate with magic? It was petrifying.

And Link knew. 

It left one question, one that you didn't want to know the answer to. If Ghirahim was this frightening, this omnipotent...

What did that mean for his master?

Ghirahim stood over you, preening his Y/N costume. "The things we do for love. You get to wear the costume of the goddess, and what do I get? The costume of a repellent sky child."

Out of all of the strange encounters so far, a ghost-talking girlfriend living in Link's sword was now as scary as a clown. The real award went to a demon playing masquerade with your flesh suit.

Fingers dug into your arm, lifting you off your feet and leaving the perfect shape of almond nailbeds imprinted on your skin. "We wait for the hero to return. Understood?"

You scoffed. "Zelda is on Skyloft. Link could be a lot of things, and I say this knowing him since childhood, but he is no twit. He will know this is tomfoolery."

But one look at Ghirahim's diabolical smile, which couldn't even be masked by the charade of your lips, told you his ploy went deeper than even you knew. 

"Zelda... is on Skyloft... isn't she?" You asked in vain.

A handprint ghosted your back, and you were shoved forward. "March."

As you both approached the distant swirling plateaus of the Sealed Grounds, Ghirahim's fists remained lightly balled at his sides, a reminder of your place in his plan.

Your eyes fluttered toward the empty vessel of yourself beside you. It was funny; all the times you looked in the mirror, you never thought you looked that bad. Attractive, some days, even. But looking from the outside in, with the backdrop of woodsy shrubs and fluttering leaves, your eye color stood out in a mesmerizing shade of e/c. Your profile, from the arch of your nose to the way your lips slightly jutted out, was strong. Your frizzed and in need of TLC tresses, even, were quite lovely with the sun beaming down on them. 

Is this what Link saw when he looked at you?

As you both approached the inlet to the temple, your footsteps scrunching in unison, you heard the sound of a familiar duo arguing back and forth.

Link?! Why hasn't he arrived back on Skyloft?!

From beside you, Ghirahim rallied you forward. "Hear that? It's the voice of a man who doesn't know he'll be dead soon".

A small twist of thin flesh on your side made you wince. The pinch hurt slightly more due to the fact Zelda's physique didn't possess a generous 5-10 lbs. more body fat, unlike some Skyloftian knights. "Ah, how the universe smiles upon the righteous and wicked."

"I just need to make sure she gets back here safely before departing for Skyloft." Link's tone was firm, bordering on explosive. 

"Why? Need some more alone time with her? Got some things you'd like to finish, Linky?" Groose challenged.

"I did nothing of the sort!"

"But I bet you wish you had?"

Are they talking about me? Your cheeks grew slightly aflame; a wicked smirk from an approving Ghirahim hovered in your peripheral vision.

"It's showtime."

You felt another shove on your back, causing you to launch forward and into the viewpoint of Link, Groose, and Impa.

All three of their heads swiveled in your direction. Of course, Fi, overbearing envious spirit that she was, popped out of Link's sword. 

"MASTER!!!!"

Even ancient pinecone Impa clamped a hand on a frail arthritic knee and rose, standing up to take a better gander.

A grand announcement in the form of Ghirahim pretending to be you echoed throughout the temple. "Look who I found! I was on my way back, and she—

"Z-Zelda..." Link's eyes didn't look your way, well, Ghirahim's way, once.

The feeling of your heart dropping to the ground was suddenly worse than whatever torturous, pain-inflicting magic Ghirahim had threatened you with. 

All talk of you ceased, and in that moment between friends, it was all about a fallen goddess named Zelda. Link's wide eyes encompassed you with concern, while you, Ghirahim, floated in the background no more transparent than Fi.

Had Ghirahim been right? Did you know who the hero would choose?

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to play along. 

Edited: 5/28/25

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 23

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday!! every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Ribs by @buoyantsaturn

“Hi, um. Sorry, I hope I have the right number. Is this Will Solace? Shit, sorry, you can’t answer me, this is a voicemail. Um. You modeled for my life drawing class, and I was wondering if you could model for me privately? Wait, shit, that sounds creepy, hold on. Start over. My name is Nico di Angelo and I’d like to hire you as a model so I can complete my final portfolio for my class. The one you modeled for. Um. Please call me back if you’re interested. Thanks.”

OH this was so so good. first of all, love the concept of broke med student nude model will and artist nico, idk something about it seems so classic. like if i had to pick an au of them having only read pjo once and never experiencing fandom, that is what i would choose. there is also fact that it was written by cj and cj has never once missed. LOVE this fic.

2. My Neighbor, The Sex God by @cherrypie62666

Piper pursed her lips, tapping a finger to her chin; all the while her hazel eyes twinkled at him with barely controlled amusement. “So, you have a problem with your neighbor,” she said slowly, waiting for his confirmation.

“Yes,” Nico hissed, shooting the girl a withering look, which did absolutely nothing other than possibly amusing her even more.

“And your problem is… that he’s too hot,” she finished, tilting her head to the side and grinning wickedly.

“My problem,” he grumbled, brow creasing at the overly pleased look on her face. She was far too unsympathetic considering he was sleep deprived and cranky. “Is that every night when I come home, he’s standing in front of the window, completely naked! I don’t know what to do. It’s like his ass is a magnet for my eyes, and it’s always there, without fail, waiting for me to come view it.”

THIS FIC IS SO FUNNY. its not nsfw but you would think it is, mostly its just hilarious. like, first of all, What a freaking concept. lol. also the tags "inner struggle, when does nico not have an inner struggle" made me fucking Lose my mind bc so so real. this is Such a fun fic and it balances romantic and platonic relationships and its so excellent i love

3. how i became the sea by @unwieldyink

"Nico’s legs were tucked into gaps of the lighthouse’s railing, dangling over the ocean below. He rested his head on the rail as well, letting himself get lost in the rippling ocean before him. If only he could get himself a little boat, one with a nice sturdy sail on it, and get lost in the horizon in person as well as in mind." Merman Will & Lighthouse Keeper Nico AU

DUDE OH MY GOD first of all merman will. second of all THIS FIC IS SO FIRE. 1.5k of what is, in my opinion, the best au trope of all time. i LOVE mermaid/lighthouse keeper, ive written something similar and i hope to one day to write it again, but no matter what it will NEVER be as fire as this fic. so tender. such quiet love OH how i love you quiet love

4. you're both terrible by @unwieldyink

“So why haven’t you mentioned you were friends with him?” Nico was silent. Percy had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “Is it because you like him?” . a mortal au where nico was adopted by the jacksons. short little oneshot for solangelo week on tumblr, day 5- home

OH i love me some nico & the jacksons and nico & sally especially!!! this is so supportive and sweet and such an easy read i cannot recommend it enough

5. three-in-one soap by @thelordofshrimp

Austin glared at his sister. “Will can’t lie, genius. He says that since he became head counselor, any shower that lasts more than three minutes gets interrupted by someone needing his help.” “That’s… crazy.” Nico considered the number of showers he’d taken even in his short time at camp and imagined if even half of them had been interrupted. “It is,” Jerry agreed. “Not like there’s much we can do about it, though.” “You can always do something about it.” Nico sat up. “There has to be something.” “Not unless you can somehow keep the whole camp safe at once.”

OH i love some scheming, protective nico oh my GOD!! nico & cabin seven is so special forever and this fic was such a treat. nico who is sooooooo determined to give will a break. SUCH an intriguing read

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[callalillywrites]

Temporary Home

Written for @steverogersbingo. E1 - Tower Fic.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Steve Rogers Bingo | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1599

Summary: After witnessing a mob hit, you seek out the protection of someone you know can keep you safe. Steve Rogers. You'll even soon find yourself settled in your new temporary home. Avengers Tower.

Warnings: witnessing a murder (reader); brief depiction of murder; protective Steve; close established friendship; unspoken mutual feelings

A/N: I've written so many stories already located in the Tower or feature it, so it took a bit to land on this idea. I gotta say I really like it and wouldn't mind possibly visiting it again soon. Maybe.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

"It won't be much longer," he whispered into your ear. His arms wrapped around your shoulders and tugged you back into his solid warmth. "I promised to keep you safe, and I'm going to do that."

You had no doubts he would.

After all, he was Steve Rogers. Captain America. The epitome of protection.

But most importantly, he was your best friend.

Steve protected those he cared about, and you were among that exclusive group.

There hadn't been any hesitation when you'd sought him out. He'd been even more convicted in keeping you safe as you laid bare everything you witnessed that dreadful night.

A murder.

Not just any murder, either.

No, you had the unfortunate fortune of being at the absolute worst place at the worst time.

You'd just stepped outside the back door of your little shop when the shots rang out. You'd ducked down, but your eyes had quickly scanned the area. It hadn't taken long to spot the prone figure that you instantly recognized as a prominent leader of the community. She and her husband lay side by side. A cloaked figure stood over them. Smoke drifted from the muzzle of the perpetrator's gun in the low light of the alley.

Fate had only been kind enough to keep you hidden from their view.

No doubt you'd been victim, too, if their killer had noticed you standing there, watching everything go down as if it was a slow-motion scene of some murder mystery.

You lost all sense of time as you crouched in your position, waiting and praying that the cloaked figure would leave soon.

Your answers were answered eventually. Not without the further misfortune of catching sight of their face during their fleeing of the scene. Your blasted mind recalled every detail despite the shadows rapidly falling around you. It was a face you wished to forget. Or at least wished to replace with someone who didn't scare the bejeezus out of you.

Why did you have to witness an actual mob hit? What had you done in any of your previous lives or this one to make you so unlucky?

When you could finally get your feet to cooperate, you'd dashed in the opposite direction. Running in your low heels proved impossible, but you found a stride that worked between a brisk pace and a jog. Constantly scanning your surroundings for fear that man would come back. He wouldn't hesitate in finishing the job, and you knew it.

It was why you didn't dare stop moving until you hit the lobby of Stark Tower. Well, Avengers Tower at that point. The receptionist hadn't hesitated in calling Tony Stark himself upon hearing your story and recognizing you as a friend. Within seconds, Tony appeared and whisked you skyward until you sat on one of the sofas of the common area.

They'd all rallied around you, too, but none more so than Steve.

Your life had been turned upside down, but he always managed to keep you firmly grounded. He always would.

"You've given up so much to take care of me," you whispered back finally, letting yourself sink into him further. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to repay you for all you've done."

His lips brushed against your temple, and his arms tightened even more around your shoulders.

"There's nothing to repay, sweetheart. You did the same for me once."

The memory tugged a smile on your lips though you managed to retort, "That was one night, not nearly three months and counting."

"That one night equals at least of a year of my protection, I'll have you know."

"Only a year?"

Steve chuckled, his body vibrating into yours. His happiness seeped into you at hearing your teasing tone returning. He never liked when you allowed yourself to go into your dark place. It didn't happen often and typically didn't last long, but it got so dark, so fast. It would leave you disoriented and reeling, clawing desperately at anything to ground yourself. He'd made it his mission to keep you from reaching that place while you'd been tucked away in the Tower these past few months.

"I'd make it a lifetime if you'd let me," he said as his laughter died away.

The absolute certainty and promise of his words stilled you both.

He would, and you knew it.

"Hey, hey, hey," Tony interrupted the moment, "you two done canoodling yet? We're about set up, and I'm determined to beat you two this time. Still not convinced you're not cheating somehow."

"Maybe we're just in-sync with one another," you offered, meeting Steve's steady gaze and sweet smile.

"Maybe we are," he agreed. He bumped his nose against yours. "Come on. He won't leave us alone unless we play him again."

"He's just going to lose."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, he is."

It turned out that way.

Tony lost and lost bad.

No matter how much he begged, bribed, or threatened, he couldn't bring Steve or you back to the table after wiping him out.

"Next time, Tones," Steve said softly, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Right now, we're calling it a night. Someone has a big day tomorrow, and you've helped distract her enough."

Tony finally conceded, his eyes meeting yours and softening. "We're all going to be there tomorrow. No way that dirtbag is getting away with what he did."

"Thanks, Tony," you murmured before following Steve towards the elevators.

His arm remained around your middle, keeping you tucked under him. It was a place you'd never felt safer and wished to stay as long as possible.

Too bad, the elevators worked so quickly and efficiently in the Tower.

Soon enough, it deposited you both at Steve's quarters where he swept you further inside.

"Want me to put on a movie for some sound?" Steve asked.

You shook your head while you grabbed your sleep clothes from his dresser. "I should probably get some sleep."

Moving towards his bathroom, you sent him a small grin, which he matched with one of his own.

"You know if all goes well, it shouldn't be too long before I'm out of your hair again. You'll have your place back to yourself."

His eyes swept the room, taking in the few items you'd brought from your apartment. Little things that helped make you not feel so out of place within his space. Things that helped with the nerves of being the only eyewitness to a horrific crime. He lingered on each one until his smile slowly slipped away, replaced by a frown.

You paused at the bathroom door. A frown tugged at your lips even as your brows pinched. "What's that face about? A single guy should be happy to have his space back, especially when he's had an unexpected guest for so long. I mean, shouldn't he?"

"Yeah, I guess," he muttered though he didn't look any happier or more relieved. If anything, he appeared almost sadder at that thought. At last, he seemed to shake himself though his expression and posture still held a hint that sadness. "It was nice to have my place feel like a home, you know? It's been a long time since I've had that."

"Well, maybe we can decorate your place then? I can take you to some of my favorite shops. See what they have that appeals to you. It shouldn't take too much to get the feeling back."

He nodded, offering you a hint of a smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

What you didn't hear as you entered his bathroom was him saying, "But really, you're my home."

By the time you emerged from his bathroom, changed and ready for bed, Steve appeared back to his old self. He grabbed what he needed and headed into the en-suite himself, nodding towards his bed. "Take it. You need a good night's sleep for your testimony tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes.

He'd been insistent on you taking his bed for the entire time you'd stayed in the Tower.

Yet, you always managed to convince him you were just fine on his sofa. It was plenty big for you as it'd been made with a super soldier in mind in the first place. With your pillows and blanket, you had everything you needed for a good night every night.

Well, at least on the nights you didn't have nightmares. Those nights you always woke up in Steve's bed with his arms wrapped around you. He would make soft shushing noises until you came back to him, holding you long after, too. Sometimes, you'd talk about the dreams if you could remember them. More often though, you'd simply let him hold you until sleep claimed you again.

Those had gone away within the first couple of weeks staying with him, which you were thankful for. Not only did they mess with your head, but they made you wish for more with the very man who held you during them.

Maybe once everything settled after the trial ended, you could entertain similar nights with him again. Ones that weren't filled with terror but with pleasure. Something about that kept you going and even fueled a few of your more naughtier dreams the longer you stayed with him.

You just had to get through tomorrow.

One more night.

Then, you'd be free. To be you again. To do what you wanted, when you wanted. To love the man who'd captured your heart and refused to let it go openly and honestly.

You could hold out one more night.

[crowlixcx]

really don't understand whats going through people's heads when they see a photo or gif with a watermark and decide to crop it out and repost

[lokh]

WHY am i having to run between two people instead of them contacting each other directly and then one of them ISNT EVEN COMMUNICATING WITH ME PROPERLY

[waterfallofspace]

ok ty! bc i requested some things but got no response so i just wanted to make sure, and check so I wasnt being annoying

ah yeah, no worries!!~ you are not~ I don't tend to answer them unless I'm going to do them, or specifically saying no, especially if they're on anon bc there's no direct way of communicating with that specific person~ gotta answer it publicly, then if I also wanna actually do it, ask/hope they send it again to reply to with the actual thing, etcetcetc, whole process hehe~

But!! if you ever request things (or anyone does) and don't see an answer, and want to know if I saw it/wanna do it, feel free to send another ask saying which it was, and asking!~ [or, like some anons do, add an identifying feature so I can know which one(s) are you!~] I really don't mind getting a couple asks to answer, long as they're respectful!~

(if you are the one who requested the tam/irio wav though, which perhaps you aren't!! again, with anon, hard to tell, haha~ that one is in the works, just still being edited~ and if it's something else, then I may be working on it too/wanting to get to it!~)

[tonycries]

The Heir - G.S.

Synopsis. No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, established relationship, he’s cray-cray (for you), bréeding - like a LOT, oral (fem receiving), unprotected, creampíe, marathon, séx, running from it, use of “my wife”, overstim, FÉRAL Satoru, absolutely heinous, mentions of kníves and bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.3k

A/N. Guess what ya girlie is back with clan leader Gojo hehe.

An heir to the Gojo clan - no matter how small, how weak - could eradicate all three of the big clans before even being born. Much like their father. 

You knew that. Satoru knew that. And, unfortunately for him, so did the stuck-up old toad currently sputtering across from him. 

“I am not asking for permission.” Satoru smiles, deathly calm. “Simply that everyone vacates the Estate. After all, what the madam wants, the madam shall get.”

“But- but young master! It’s madness- An heir can tip the scales of power like never before!” The elder lunges frantically over the meeting room table. “I cannot allow- a-and considering the madam’s lowly lineage-”

Schwing!

They say that the infamous young head of the Gojo clan has a katana as hauntingly beautiful as he is - a blade of pure white, with a sapphire hilt. Though, there wasn’t anyone left to tell the tale - and Satoru wasn’t about to let that change anytime soon. 

The long, deceptively delicate sword glints sharply against Satoru’s humorless grin, and those cold, cold eyes. Unblinking - crazed, as he hums, “What did you say about my wife?”

The man in front of him can do nothing but yelp in fear, “I- it could- the scale of ah-”

“No.” The freezing cold blade presses deeper against skin. And Satoru’s tutting, “Try again.”

“Th-the madam!” Pathetic tears stain those expensive tatami mats below, every shred of previous ego wiped away as the elder’s forced to echo his words. “It is no lie that her b-background is…unsuitable-”

Oh this was why Satoru hated these meetings - and for once in his life he’d been the one to summon it instead of being forced to attend. What a joke. If only this elder had agreed to vacate everyone in the Estate like he’d wanted, then none of this would’ve happened. Seriously, how hard was it to get some alone time with you? 

Satoru sighs, blue yukata rustling as he grips the hilt tighter. “Do you know why you’re here, advisor? Why any of you little council of elders are still here?” And he doesn’t wait for an answer - couldn’t care less about it anyway. Plowing on in that same sweet, dangerous tone - as if scolding a stubborn child, “My lovely wife is kind, you see. Too kind. Doesn’t like for me to get my hands dirty.”

He lets his arm retract slightly, as if giving up on the conversation topic at hand. And oh for all his wisdom, the elder should’ve known better than to let the silence lull into one of safety. Should’ve known better than to let out a breath of relief. Relaxing - ever-so-slightly, to be stupid enough to mutter, “S-see young master. I told- you-”

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he’s chuckling - and that was never a good sign for anyone but you. “She’d make such a perfect mother, don’t you think?”

---

SLAM!

You startle - there was only ever one person that dared to kick open the doors of the Gojo Estate that way, like he was out for blood.

Eyes tearing from your window towards the now-splintered doorway and-

Oh. Oh shit. 

Your voice dies in your throat as the metallic tang of blood hits your nose - followed very shortly by the realization that this was your husband. Towering figure leaning against the frame, gaze frantic - bouncing off everywhere but you, fingers twitching on the stained handle of his katana, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost. 

What the fuck happened?

“Satoru?” you breathe. And the sound of your voice his eyes finally snap to you - widening, like he’d finally noticed your figure standing there. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. Stepping forward in concern, “Are you o-”

You’ve barely made it two steps before Satoru’s closing the distance in a split-second, dropping to his knees before you with a harsh thump!

You wince at the sound, but if it hurt then he doesn’t show it. Anything but - in fact, looking more blissed out than you’ve ever seen him as he lets his prized katana clatter to the floor, looping two powerful arms around your waist.

And it’s times like this - when he nuzzles his cheek against your stomach, sighing in contentment - that you forget about those blossoming stains of red on his yukata. None of his, you bet. 

Threading your fingers through his soft hair, you repeat, “Are you okay, Toru?”

And oh. 

Oh, it only takes those words - and your sweet sweet voice - before Satoru’s entire body jolts. Taking a sharp inhale, fingers trembling as they clutch onto the fabric of your yukata. “An heir.” Words strained, ragged. Some deep, visceral part of himself peaking up at you through those hazy, half-lidded eyes, “Would you give me an heir, my wife?”

You weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re gasping - partially because of his words, partially because that’s all it takes for him to yank you down. Sprawling you out like such a slut on the floor. “Wha- an heir?”

It’s not something you expected him to even consider - that sleepy, quiet little pillowtalk from earlier today where you’d mindlessly wondered out loud whether your husband was ready for kids. Hell, Satoru was never a morning person, so you didn’t expect him to even have heard the question let alone this. 

Nosing at your racing pulse, whispering, “An heir. You think I’d ever deny you, pretty?” Like he couldn’t believe it himself - sharp canines nipping at your neck, “My heir.”

It’s like it was the only thing he could say - could even think about right now as his lips burned a path down your jaw, into the valley of your breasts. Muffled, “N’ now we have the Estate all to ourselves, so I can ruin you as much as I hah- want.”

And for the second time today, you’re actually registering that this wasn’t the same yukata your husband had kissed senseless in before the meeting. Or, at least, those patches of red were new.

“Satoru…” You pull his face back.

“No- no no please- Come back-” you squeal when he just drags you across the floor by the hips, pressing you up against that massive bulge, back to sloppily kissing the underside of your jaw. “Was jus’ one I swear- m’sorry about gettin’ the fabric dirty.”

“Satoru.”

“Wasn’t gonna break you where everyone could hear right?” 

And fuck he doesn’t wait to hear a response, no - it’s been far too long, and every little scold from you has all the blood in Satoru’s body rushing to his aching cock. His lips are crashing onto yours, so desperate and needy. 

“Sa-toru!” you manage to squeal through the way he sips at your candied lips. Letting out pained, breathless little grunts like each swipe of his tongue against your mouth was driving him insane. 

“Shhh shhh, m’here m’here.” he pants into your open mouth, hands wandering everywhere. Cupping your ass, your breasts, nudging open your jaw to let him suck so filthily on your tongue. “Fuck- m’here.” He’s licking up the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth already, “N’ m’gonna ruin-” One hand makes its way to palm your clothed cunt, “-her.”

But, alas, no matter how many times Satoru’s done this before - it never gets any easier, or as less heavenly of a sight for him. 

With you all disheveled and splayed out for him, your tits almost spilling out of your yukata with the way his hands have been so greedy. So thoughtless. 

Satoru groans, dipping his head forward to peck messily at your lips. “Mmm- ” Pulling back just enough to mutter, “Gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, hm?” 

It’s all you can do to give him a half-delirious little nod of agreement, lower lip wobbling at just how hungrily he was looking at you. Eyes wide, lips curling into a crazed smile, fingers trembling with anticipation as he deftly works on untying your robe. 

“Is my wife gonna give me a pretty baby?” He gasps out, strangled. “An heir?” He presses a sloppy peck to your glossy lips, strings of spit snapping when he breaks apart to whisper. “One to take out all these dumb fucks?” Again, so dizzyingly. And again. “Oh how I’d love to see their fuckin’ faces.” And again and again and again. Kisses punctuated by that little mantra - “An heir. My heir. I need you to give me a baby, pretty.”

And then your yukata’s being pulled down your shoulders, the expensive fabric ripping down the side with the way he was so ravenous. Goosebumps prickling down your skin as fast as Satoru can get his hands on every inch of you.

“Oh, look at you.” his jaw falls slack, palms kneading at your soft breasts. “Fuck- the mother of my kids.” He rolls his thumb over your hardened nipples, rubbing lazy little circles, “I need to- fuck!” 

Before you know it he’s pinning your arching body down onto the floor. One hand easily pinning down both of yours, the other angling your lips back onto his, a knee wedged between your damp thighs. 

You whine at the feeling of Satoru’s thigh rubbing up against your drenched panties.

But he could barely hear - fuck, you didn’t even know if Satoru was breathing with the way he wraps his pretty pink lips around one of your pert nipples. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks - harsh.

“Need to fill these up- s’gonna be so sweet. So full.” he’s blabbering into your tits, tongue rolling around your sensitive nipples. Incessant, like he was somehow trying to draw out milk. “I can only hope they hah- share, right?”

You buck your hips up, mewling as your throbbing clit catches on the dips and curves of the muscles on Satoru’s leg. “P-please, Toru. Don’t tease.”

And oh, when has he ever denied you? Hell, Satoru would burn down this entire world and himself if it meant giving his wife anything and everything. Especially the future mother of his kids. 

With a final, playful bite, you watch with glassy eyes at the way he dances his lips down. Slow. Teasing. Eyes locked with you all the while like some sort of predator cornering his prey. 

“And this-” Satoru stops halfway down, pressing a deep, sultry kiss onto your bare stomach, “Oh this. Gonna be so round n’ pretty. Absolutely glowing f’me, right? Fuck!” 

Snapping his head down at the feeling of your grinding your hips so sluttily onto his legs, slick seeping through your panties and onto his skin. 

“Oh.” he sighs, awe-struck. More to himself than you at this point, “You can kill me if you’re not with my heir by the time we’re done, pretty.”

A promise.

And with it went whatever was left of Satoru’s poor sanity - and whatever pathetic chance there was of you making it out of this alive. 

Immediately, Satoru fists your flimsy panties in his grasp. So see-through they were practically useless anyway. Reveling in your panicked little gaze as he pulls - rips them clean off your dripping cunt. 

“Oh god- There we go.” he moans, hooking two arms underneath your legs and pushing up, up, up - all the way until your knees were pressing up against your tits. Your lips wobble when Satoru takes the time to admire your pussy, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs to watch the way you glisten and clench at nothing. Licking his lips - salivating even - at the sight of your slick beading through your puffy folds. He runs a thumb along your sopping wet slit, “Better wish her good luck tonight.”

And, usually, your husband was refined - he teased and toyed with your poor cunt until you were begging to have an ounce of friction. But right now, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash with how fast he’s pushing his face into your pussy.

“Mm-” Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue laps at your dripping wet cunt. Tipping his head back, back, back to let your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. “Fuck that. Even luck won’t save you from me- hah-”

“Toru!” you arch off the cool floor as he cards the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds. From the base of your sloppy entrance, all the way up to your throbbing clit. “Hngh- s’too-”

He was going too fast too soon. 

You whine at the palm pushing your unstable hips flat onto the ground, holding you still while Satoru licks all over as he pleases. “Now now, how are ya gonna ngh- fuck so sweet- handle later if ya can’t even handle this, pretty?”

Sucking on your clit in such a messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Fuck. Shouldn’t have told me about an heir.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Harsh - rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub in a way he knows will have you crying out so prettily. “Fuuuck you shouldn’t h- oh- Ohhh, look at you, my wife.”, breathing in deep, ragged gasps of air only to go deeper. “Fuck- just look at you. You’re so wet I could fuck you just like this.”

As if to prove his point, he’s urgently bullying the tip of his tongue between your plushy walls. And it was true - so pathetically true. You take him in so easily. 

Somehow, you manage to crack an eye open to spy downwards - only to be met with Satoru’s eyes already on yours. Hazy, curtained by his messy hair, swollen lips curving up to flash you such a devilish grin as he squeezes his tongue past that feeble, first ring of resistance. In and out in and out in and-

“Ohh. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” His jaw grinds deeper, nose flush against your clit. “Ya like that idea? Like the thought of me p-painting ah- slutty pussy white already?”

Your embarrassed little whine isn’t enough of an answer for your husband. No, he’s pressing his fingers - all glossy and covered with a sheen of your slick - onto your pulsing clit. Just barely grazing in a way that has you crying out. 

Making out with your cunt so sloppily, “Tha’s more like it.” Heavy eyes boring into yours - goading, even, for you to give more of a reaction. “Fuck- use those words, pretty. Scream.” Satoru’s fucking into your sloppy hole the way he’s been dreaming to do with his rock-hard cock. “After all, we h-have the Estate all to ourselves, right?”

Faster. Sloppier. 

Pushing and pulling his tongue in a way that has you sobbing, “Yes! Please- wan’- ngh” Thighs squeezing around Satoru’s fervent head, “W-wan you to jus’ breed me, Toru-”

Oh.

Fuck, you might’ve just signed your will away at this point. 

Because in a split-second, you’re cumming. 

Shit, were you glad that there was no one in the house. Sobbing out a broken whine of his name, fingers white-knuckled on Satoru’s hair while you gush all over his pretty face. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all over his mouth - using him through your high. 

And he’s more than happy to be dragged and angled all you please. Greedily lapping up your syrupy sweet juices, just dipping his tongue into your hole to feel the way you clench around him. 

But it’s not long before Satoru’s pulling away. Swallowing a disappointed whine, you gape up at the absolutely feral man looming above you. 

Lips plump and glossy, your juices dripping all the way down his chin, his jaw. Teeth bared, a pretty pink blush dusting over those cheeks - and you have half the mind to wonder how high the kill count actually is. Whether you’d be on it, too. 

“Heh, kill count?” Satoru grins, teeth grazing so dangerously over your racing pulse. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Funny, real funny.” And with that, he’s thumbing apart your swollen folds, biting his lips at the sight of your quivering hole. “Wonder if our- hah- kid’s gonna have your-” Without warning, he spits. Once. Twice. Gliding the pads of his fingers along the thick globs of spit on your cunt, “-humor?”

And oh how ironic it was for Satoru to be groaning out sweet little spiels of what your kids might look like, when his fingers were anything but. 

Stretching out your gummy entrance, having the audacity to laugh - laugh - at how desperately your pussy was trying to milk his fingers. 

“Y-you’re so mean-”

“And yer killin’ me- ohhh you’re gonna be the death of me.” he mutters - strained. Depraved. Hastily pushing apart his yukata. He hisses, “Fuck-”

You can’t help but gasp at the sinful sight before you - Satoru’s blush reaches down his sculpted chest, down, down, down all the way to his painfully hard cock. Curved against his abs, already so angry and soaked with precum. Giving you a pretty little peak of those veins glistening against the dim lighting. 

Before you even know what’s happening, he’s circling his fat, weepy head around your sloppy hole. Slow, lazy patterns to tease your cunt. “Can only pray m’not dead before I see ngh- fuck- my heir.”

It’s like something breaks. And Satoru’s remembering that no, this isn’t just any child - it’s the next Gojo. That grip on the base of his swollen cock tightening when he slips past your pussy lips. 

“Oh! Toru- f-fuck wait s’too big-” you keen, nails digging into where his yukata was sliding off his milky, sculpted shoulders. Hard enough to break skin. “It’s ah-”

“No.” he spits into your sagging mouth. “No no no no- wait fuck- ngh squeezing so fucking- tight.” Hips pushing in quick, shallow little thrusts to squeeze more of his achy head inside. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck hold on. Need this. Need this so bad- please!”

And you can’t do anything but arch into his touch, scrambling up onto your elbows to- shit, that was a bad idea. 

Because one look at the sight of your poor cunt, all bulging and stretched out on Satoru’s massive cock was enough to have you running away. 

You’d barely made a movement to escape, feet flattening on the floor to buck your hips because shit it was too much. And it was a useless effort, anyway, because Satoru’s dragging you back so easily, pulling your limp body deeper down his swollen cock. 

“Need this. Need this need this so bad, pretty.” he groans, barely even halfway in yet. Still pushing, still relentless. “Need to breed this cunt so bad.”

Some tiny, useless part of Satoru’s rationality knows that he should slow down - maybe give you a second to relax. To maybe even breathe. But he was out of control now, hips stuttering and wrenching forwards like he couldn’t stop. 

So he’s simply gripping onto your shaky thighs harder, sure to leave neat little indents of his nails to admire tomorrow - or, whenever he gets back his sanity, that is. 

Satoru hisses at the way you’re so pliant below him. Limp, letting him rest your legs on his muscled shoulders. “Think I needa manhandle ya more often, pretty.” Pressing down, down - all the way until you were folded in half beneath him in such a mean mating press. “Can’t- can’t stop-”

The change in angle makes you scream out Satoru’s name - and it makes him bottom out. Finally. 

Fuck, you weren’t making it out alive.

“Oh.” he grunts at the feeling of his heavy balls smacking against your ass, his fat, leaky tip kissing against your cervix. God, if Satoru was any less of a man he thinks he could’ve cum just from the feeling of you trying to suck him up already. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you gasp when he presses down about halfway down your stomach, Pressing down for that bulge, hard. “You’re in s-so deep ngh- S’like you’re pushing into my ngh- lungs.”

Fuck, if you talked any more with that pretty mouth then Satoru was bound to pass out. Blindly, he’s feeling for your pouty mouth, kissing and nibbling at your wobbling lips like a subconscious apology. For what was to come, that is.

Because Satoru Gojo spares no apologies when he starts moving - finally. Finally fucking you the way he’s been dreaming of all throughout that droning meeting. 

And he says so - a little over fifteen times, in fact, while he splits you apart on his cock. 

“-n’ when I was negotiating those ngh- c-clan deals. N’ when I was at that meeting-” he gasps, shoving your legs so far apart it burned. “S’all I could hah- think of. Everything - don’t give a fuck if I got a contract wrong.”

Each word was punctuated by a rough, harsh ram of his cock, stretching out your gummy walls so far apart like he wanted to make his mark there. Pushing - even when he could feel his aching tip nudging at your cervix.

So merciless - violent even - with the way he’s slamming back into you. Molding your plushy walls to every ridge and curve of his massive cock. It was impossible to even form coherent sentences with his harsh pace. 

A large hand flattens beside your head as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper. More purposeful. You almost sob at the sheer pressure when he dances his fingers down to rub quick, methodical little circles on your clit. “Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. “M-more.”

But it wasn’t enough.

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. And shit at that very moment you almost understood why even the most hardened of clan leaders feared to even look at Gojo Satoru wrong. Because he was giving you a sopping, fucked-out smile, eyes widened, voice trembling, “You want more?”

And of course this was the strongest. Of course, he was ruthless. 

Of course, it takes him exactly two seconds to pull out of your heavenly cunt and flip you onto your stomach. One hand coming under you to angle your hips up until you were on all fours - like some ragdoll. The other feverish, distracting on your clit while he bullies his achingly hard cock past your sopping entrance once more. 

“Fuck!” your voice is hoarse when you scream. Teeth gritting because fuck the stretch was too sinful and Satoru’s hips were too harsh. Too hellbent on fucking into you like he’d lost control. “O-oh please, Toru-”

He doesn’t waste time easing you into it this time, picking up where he left off with that maddening cadence. And you were glad he had an arm on your hips because your knees were weakening with each thrust, slowly sliding down the floor before-

“Aw, my poor girl.” you hear Satoru coo from above you. Muscled chest rubbing up against your back, “S’alright. M’gonna take care of it. You jus’ hafta take it- jus’ take it like the good lil’ wife you are.” his body bows into yours, strands of white sticking to his forehead. “N’ I’ll take fuck fuck fuck- care of everything.” So sloppy with his rhythm, pushing you further and further up the floor with each movement - only to reel you right back so easily. “I’ll wash ‘em and hah- clothe ‘em n’ t-teach ‘em to take over this godforsaken society. To protect their momma.”

“T-Toru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even have to ask - he could feel the way you were squeezing so hard around him, like you were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him. The way the only thing you could get out was his name. 

His perfect wife. 

Sobbing out, “Close! So close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

He was losing his fucking mind. 

Biting down so hard at the crook of your neck to keep himself from cumming before you, he moans deliciously, “Then cum. Fucking cum. Please- wan’ you to cum on my cock.” Wrists aching with how desperate he was moving, “Cum- yeah yeah yeah fucking- cum- Cum for your husband.”

Oh, if heaven was real then whatever was left of that part of Satoru that could still form coherent thoughts knew that this was it. 

Watching you fall apart like such a slut all over his cock. Not even realizing it at first - just that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, swollen lips falling slack, letting out such a pretty cry of his name that he can’t help but cum, too. 

You don’t know who’s more far gone - you, with your head spinning, a lewd little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time Satoru fucks you through your high. 

Or him, gushing out in thick, hot ropes of cum that overspill from your snug cunt. 

“So muchhh.” you whine, heavy head being held up by your husband. “S’too much.”

And he knew what you were talking about - because Satoru was cumming and cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Because he was mesmerized by that creamy trail of white drooling down your folds, forming an obscene ring at those tufts of white at his base. 

“Too much?” Satoru hisses. “Too much?”

You can only give a barely-lucid nod, whimpering when he doesn’t ease up. Not one bit, in fact, Satoru was only abandoning the hand playing with your ravaged clit to press down on your abdomen. Hard. 

“There we hah- go. Better now?” The hand supporting your head forced you to look down below, at the sticky mess of white covering your cunt. Slobbering all over Satoru’s cock - even down to his thighs. “Now we got fuck- more space.”

You don’t even realize you’re scrambling away until Satoru gasps, panicked, “No no no- we’re not done, pretty. Fuckkk we’re far from done.” Fingers tightening around your neck to pull you deeper down his cock, holding you in place. Just dragging you along his length. “Gotta make sure it takes. Why else d’you think no one in the Estate will be back until tomorrow?”

He doesn’t wait for a response - not that you could give one, anyway, with how you were being fucked dumb on his cock again. 

A strong, powerful leg hooks around yours, pushing you down with his body weight. “So that we ngh- h-have enough time to prepare for my heir.” Weeping head grazing all those sensitive spots so expertly. “T-to plan and and- ruin you and- fuck you feel so good. They’ll be the most powerful- hah- jus’ watch. Those fuckers better w-wait and see.”

So debauched and fucked-out that you don’t even know what he’s running his mouth about now, just heavy, urgent words slurred into your neck while he fucks you just as sloppily. 

“Don’t know?”

Fuck. You said it out loud again. 

And the embarrassing realization has your eyes screwing open, gazing tearily back at an amused Satoru. Well, as amused as he could be when he was just as wrecked as you. 

Kissing your sweaty forehead, hips reeling back all the way until your cunt was missing the stretch - bucking traitorously against the fat mushroom tip grazing your entrance. Making a mess of precum down below.

“S’alright, pretty.” he groans, sandwiching his cock between your puffy folds. “Because you just have to sit there n’ ngh- take- it.”

If you thought that Satoru was broken before then he was absolutely ruined now. 

Because there was no reason or rhythm to his actions now - just mindless, feral movements to milk his cock as much as he physically could on your pussy. Running only on pure need and the thought of you round and so full with his kid. 

“Ah!” you’re startled out of your reverie by something wet. Whirling sluggishly to catch the tears of overstimulation brimming at Satoru’s heavy eyes - shit, you wondered if he even knew what he was doing at this point. “T-Toru…you- ngh- o-okay?”

The only response you get is an unsteady nod. 

“-the best.” he whispers, twitching balls squeezing so painfully with each slap against your ass. Faster. Absolutely soaked with the sinful concoction of your juices and his cum. “We’ll be the best parents- ngh-” And fuck it was so much - too much. Too good. Painful pleasure.

Enough that all it takes is another, sloppy thrust before he’s seeing stars behind his eyes again. Cock twitching wildly inside your cunt as Satoru shoots load after load of cum to paint your pussy white. 

So warm with his cum - him - that Satoru’s body moves before his mind. Pooling the mess down below to nudge back into your cunt. “C’mon, pretty, c-can’t get ngh pregnant if ya don’t oh- cum.”

And it’s so embarrassing how that’’s all it takes for you to reach your high with a strained, barely audible moan. Voice shot, your own orgasm nothing but a few tingles that have your thighs fucking back into Satoru’s. 

“Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru.” you mewl, big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Birds of a feather, they say. 

Hypnotized. Drunk off the feeling.

And, evidently, Satoru was, too. 

“Pretty…” his voice rings in your ear. Tinged with a tone you know didn’t bode well for you - or your poor, overfilled cunt. Bloated and dribbling already. “Are- sure- ngh-” 

And with a jolt, you realize he’s still moving. Still pushing and pulling in languid, slow strokes. Thighs shaking as the fatigue wears on him. 

If anyone saw Satoru like this, they’d have a heart attack. Flushed your favorite shade of pink, the lower half of his body well covered with a sheen of your obscenities. Eyes teary with sensitivity, cock still twitching and so angry as he clears his throat and tries again, “Are we- hah- sure it took?”

“Wh-what-” you gasp, breathing in big, deep inhales. “Yes- yes yes- oh my god it’won’t-”

“It will.” Satoru’s interruption almost comes out as a whine. And he’s more sluggish, dazed when he flips you over onto your back again - not too difficult, with the way you were practically splayed out already. “Th-this pussy is made to take it, right? T-to be bred by me?”

It’s almost like Satoru was begging for confirmation, plugging back in the excess of what was leaking out of your abused pussy. It was spreading in a lewd little pool now, seeping into the non-existent space between you two.

But oh how Satoru loved it. Couldn’t tear his eyes off of it, in fact as he noses at your neck. Barely even thrusting anymore, just raw grinds, “Right? Gotta make sure- ngh- heir. Oh-”

He’s darting his tongue out to lick at the beads of tears streaming down your cheek. The salty taste on his tongue having Satoru’s hips stuttering forwards. Again. And again - alternating, not on purpose - between hitting your cervix and that bruised g-spot. “Gonna give me an heir? Ohhh fuck fuck fuck- lemme breed this cunt?”

You’re using up every bit of energy left in your body to give that slow, shallow nod. Which is all the time it takes for the pool to spread even wider. For Satoru’s fingers to stumble their way back to play with your clit. 

Rolling his thumb over in a harsh, uncalculated pattern - if you could even call it that, just jerky, obscene movements to get you off. 

And it works. Hell, the two of you are barely in the state of mind to even feel it. But he’s finally cumming again, and so are you. 

“Ngh- Fuck-”

With a loud, pained cry Satoru tightens his grip on your body like a vice. Raw, sensitive, overusing his cock until it felt so empty. Until you felt so bloated it was like you could explode - or maybe that was your own orgasm. “Toru- c-cumming.”

You’re not sure, anymore. And you don’t know if either of you could bring yourselves to care at this moment, not when your eyelids grow heavy. Vision tinging with black in the corners, and the only thing you could see was your husbands face - sweaty, eyes almost closed, kiss-bitten lips moving in a soundless whisper.  “-the best- momma.”

A/N. CLAN LEADER GOJO SAVE MEE. Oh yeah the “can’t get pregnant without the momma cumming” bit was based on this old tale I’d heard where people used to gen believe that. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[tojilicious]

cw: missionary, breeding, impregnation yayayaya, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), gspot stim, edging, groping. some fluff! MDNI!

nanami kento loves you so incredibly much, it's almost ridiculous. the man absolutely adores you and every moment spends with you. you're just so beautiful that even after all the time of being together, your smile pulls at the strings of his heart.

nanami wants nothing more than to begin the next chapter of your shared life and start a little family with you. at times, it's all he'll think about, but he won't bring it up as he believes it should be you who makes that call. so he'll patiently wait whilst he daydreams about the whole process, from making love to you, to the whole 9 months, to when your bundle of joy is finally snuggled into your arms and you're tiredly yawning. he'll daydream about everything.

when the two of you are getting ready for bed one night, he's immediately dizzy with excitement when he hears your shy, murmuring voice.

"kento, i think .. i think i want us to start trying."

you've never seen his head whip so fast to look at you with a glint in his honeyed eyes and before you know it, he already has you sitting on the edge of the bed with your shirt and shorts discarded and tossed onto the floor—leaving you seated in just a pair of cotton panties.

his knees are against the carpet as he's sat between your knees, strong arms hooked underneath both of your thighs to keep them spread as he presses light kisses against your inner thighs. every few kisses, his lips drag along your sensitive skin and he's letting out an exhale of warm arm as he relishes in the way you're trying your best to stop the involuntary jerks of your hips.

"sensitive, hm?" he's pressing a smirk into your thigh as he gives you another kiss, brown eyes locked onto your flustered face.

you don't answer, fingers gently gripping onto the sheets of your bed as he places another smooch along your bare inner thigh.

"answer me, pretty." he murmurs against your skin and you're letting out a shaky exhale that you didn't know you were holding in.

"um- yeah.. just a little.." you sound so sheepish when you respond and nanami's smirk remains put.

"a little?" he repeats and as if he's testing the validity of your answer, your inner thighs are now being met with open mouthed kisses.

he lightly sucks at the skin and your fingers grip the sheets a little harder, a tiny whimper escaping your lips as you close your eyes. your head's falling back as you let out an airy sigh and he's unhooking an arm from underneath your thigh so he can press a palm against your chest, silently encouraging you to lay back and you follow.

you lean back onto the bed, holding yourself up with your elbows to look down at him and he pulls back—breath hitching in his throat when he sees the little damp spot right on the crotch of your panties. cute ... he presses the pad of his thumb right into the wet spot and immediately feels the heat of your drooling cunt behind the fabric.

his face grows stern and he's holding back a groan. his thumb presses in a little harder until it's right against your hole, the only thing separating the two of you from bare contact being the flimsy fabric still clinging onto your hips.

nanami runs his thumb upwards, leaving your hole and stilling right when he gets to your clit. he runs ghostly circles over your clothed clit and your jaw tenses at the very light stimulation.

"kento .." you sigh, jaw visibly tensing as he applies a little more pressure after you speak.

"hm?" he hums, eyes alternating between his thumb and the damp patch on your underwear that already looks like it's growing in size.

"feels good .." you readjust your elbows, still continuing to look down at him as he continues his soft ministrations on your clit.

"yeah? tell me all about it, gorgeous.." the corners of his lips curl upwards as he smiles at you.

his smile is so warm and your lips are falling apart so you can answer.

"just.. when you circle.. my clit like that.." you're sheepishly murmuring now, and as you do so, he's dipping his fingers into the side of your panties to get a better feel.

you choke on your words when his bare thumb envelopes itself in your slick, breath shaking as his wet thumb drags to circle your clit.

"kento."

"keep telling me about it. what feels good, baby?" he presses further for you to answer and you whine at the fact that he's wanting you to use your brain instead of just letting you moan for him.

"you rubbing my clit feels so fucking good, kento.." your fingers are gripping the sheets again and you press your lips together for a moment to collect yourself.

his thumb catches onto your clit just right and you're gasping out a moan, eyes closing as you continue,

"it's s- so much better when you do it. fuck, it just feels so much better." you're almost moaning out the last words, so enveloped by the stimulation that you don't realize that his fingers are hooking underneath your panties and pulling them to the side.

"feels better when it's my hands touching you, right?" he asks and right as your lips part so you can agree with him—the tip of his middle finger presses right against your drooling hole for a second before slipping past the ring.

"o- oh!" you hiccup, his finger sliding in until your little spasming ring is clinging onto the first knuckle of his finger.

"yeah. i bet it feels so much better, my sweet girl." he coos and slides his finger in further until the second knuckle is bumping against your slit. "there you go, baby."

he pulls his finger back before pushing it back in and the thumb on your clit resumes it's ministrations. your stomach flexes as he pleasures you, pulling out little mewls and moans from your mouth.

your back is fully hitting the mattress now as you fully surrender to nanami, hips rolling forward to meet his working fingers. his thumb applies more pressure to your sensitive nub and his finger curls, prodding the tip of his digit against that spongey spot inside you that never fails to make you cry out for him.

warm tingles run down your spine to it's destination; the sopping slit between your thighs. every circling stroke of his thumb on your clit has a miniature wave of hot bliss washing over your lower tummy and it leaves your drooling cunt spasming for more, more, more.

nanami suddenly retracts his thumb and before you can complain, he's leaning down and massaging his tastebuds right against your clit.

"k-kento!" the sob you let out is pathetic and you're shakily arching your back off the bed.

he laps at your cunt, rolling your sensitive little bud against his tongue as his finger only works with more fervor. his digit is shining with your slick as he fingerfucks you, your hand flying down to grasp and tug at locks of his blonde hair.

the stimulation only makes your hips buck more and now you're practically humping your dripping cunt into his needy mouth. your clit grinds against his tongue and you feel the invasion of a second finger stretching out your weeping hole.

"k-ken .." you cry, his fingers curling into your sensitive spot, hole squeezing tightly onto his digits.

he grunts like a starved man against your pussy and you're being dragged closer and closer to the edge of what feels to be the most earth shattering orgasm.

"close, k-ken—so.. so fucking close." you're moaning, little pants and whimpers leaving you that have no intent of stopping.

you're right there. all that's needed is a few strokes of his fingers, a few swipes of his tongue, and you'll be sobbing out melodies as you cum on his face.

but .. nanami doesn't want you to cum yet. no, the only time you're gonna be cumming is when his cock is spearing your needy pussy open and he's filling you to the brim with his load.

to your dismay, the stimulation suddenly fades into the distance as nanami pulls away. his fingers drag out of your cunt, leaving your empty cunt spasming around nothing as your clit that was once warm with his mouth is now being uncomfortably soothed by the cold air in the bedroom.

he was reluctant to pull away, but nanami needs to keep you right on the edge for him. he needs to make your pussy so needy that it's opening up even more for him. he needs to make your hole so desperate that it clings onto anything and everything it's given—whether it's his cock or his cum. nanami has to be sure you take what he gives.

he's quietly pulling the fabric of your panties back over your dripping slit to cover it.

"kento.. wanted to cum." he hears you sulking, your hips bucking into emptiness as you crave his touch.

"patience, baby." he hums, finally standing up from the floor as his hands work to undo the buckle of his belt before deftly pulling it from the loops of his trousers.

"can you be patient for me?" nanami asks, honeyed eyes looking down to admire you in all of your beauty.

you look so pretty. all for him.

"i can be patient, kento." nodding your head, you spread your thighs further as you hear his belt hit the floor, followed by the glorious sound of a zipper being undone. "just g-give it to me soon, okay?"

your sheepish display of neediness has him letting out a chuckle, his thumbs dipping underneath the waistband of his trousers and boxers to pull the combined fabrics down his muscular legs. his cock springs free, flying up to thump against his stomach before falling forward and bobbing slightly.

"oooh .." he coos, "are you making orders now?" his pointer and middle fingers hook underneath the waistband of your panties, pulling the flimsy cotton down your legs and tossing it besides the previously discarded clothes on your floor.

you're completely nude for him now.

"you know i'm not one to make you wait too long, pretty." he reminds you, gripping the base of his cock with his hand as he stands idle between your spread thighs.

your legs are instinctively lifting to hang idle at either side of his waist, silently letting him know you're ready. he leans forward, wide body hovering over your smaller one and he's placing a spread palm right beside your head in order to support his weight.

the head of his cock is gliding through your wet folds and you're sucking in a sharp breath each and every time it catches against the hood of your clit or entrance. his eyes are solely focused on where he's making the two of you meet, brows connected in concentration as he tries to stager himself off from thrusting in right then and there.

you can tell he's holding back and you're sweetly murmuring to him, "come on, ken—make me a mama, yeah?"

a switch flips in his brain when he hears your encouragement because his cockhead is immediately prodding against your hole. every prod has a noticeable pressure building behind it and he's heavily exhaling through his nose.

"yeah, pretty .." he mutters, eyes still transfixed on the way his cock is beginning to press into your cunt. "i'll make you a mama."

and just like that, he pushes forward—thick tip of his cock finally popping into your cunt, your head being thrown back as you let out a little whimper from the stretch. your hands are running up his arms and finding purchase on his shoulders, squeezing.

"kento .." the way you say his name comes out as a purr and it spurs him further, another inch of his cock pressing into your cunt.

then another, and another, and another .. until his tip is nuzzled up against your cervix. he has you so full that you think you can feel the beads of precum that your tight cunt is squeezing out of him being smeared right against the barrier.

he leans back, not hovering over your frame anymore and his hands hook underneath your thighs. he draws his hips back, cock dragging out until it's just his head being clung onto by your hole. nanami wastes no time before he thrusts forward, digging his way back to your cervix.

and he's repeating the action again, setting the perfect pace for himself and you as he starts to make love to you. he feels so deep, every thrust causing your walls to accommodate to his meaty length.

each push and pull of his hips has his cock dragging against the sweetest, most sensitive parts of your cunt—little sighs and whimpers leaving your lips that now refuse to close. it just feels too good. every brush of his tip against a particular spot has your warm walls spasming and squeezing around him and he's grunting to himself, trying his hardest not to get lost in the feeling.

"feel good, baby? am i making you feel good?" nanami asks and he's lifting a leg up to rest on his shoulder, kissing the side of your calf that flexes in response to the sweet action.

"feels so fucking good, kento.." you're struggling to get the words out when the new angle has his cock pressing right into your g-spot.

"oh my— goshhhhh .." there's a crack in your voice, your hips rolling forward right as his pelvis meets yours—his balls plapping right against your asscheeks.

there's that warmth again, those miniature waves of hot bliss and they're originating right from inside your cunt every time he stimulates that spongey spot. nanami knows how you're feeling because he feels it too.

he feels your walls squeezing him even tighter and when he looks down—it takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. your pussy walls are desperately clinging onto him with each pull back of his hips, begging him to stay inside and almost looking as if it's inviting him to nestle inside as deep as he wants.

there's a coil vibrating in his stomach and his balls are starting to pulse the more he continues to thrust. nanami's hand slithers away from the duty of keeping your leg secured ontop of his shoulder—and instead slithers between where the two of your bodies meet, thumb resting right onto your clit.

"a—ah! f-fuck.. kento.." those pleasuring waves are building in strength and his thumb is drawing circles on your clit.

it doesn't help that he's already taken one potential orgasm away from you because now that he's stimulating your sensitive pearl once again, you're not sure you can last much longer. and nanami knows this and that's what he wants because he's unsure of how much longer he himself can last.

every drag of his thumb has your body reacting; hips rolling, back arching, cunt pulsing, and lips moaning relentlessly for him. you're bracing yourself for how hard this orgasm is gonna hit you, fingers gripping onto the bedsheets like they did early. shit. you're gripping so hard that your knuckles are turning white.

"it feels like you're gonna cum." he roughly grunts, the force of his thrusts growing in strength and with evidence as the two of you can hear the audible plaps. "come on, sweetheart—you can cum for me, can't you?"

nanami's coaxing is ripping a pathetic and prolonged whimper from your throat, his thumb quickening it's drawn circles on your little nub and your thighs are trembling.

"y-yeah, kento—g'nna cum.. so close.." you're starting to slur your words, body starting to become enraptured in the heat of your building orgasm.

one more circle is drawn onto your clit and you cum. hard.

your vision whites as if you've been blinded with a floodlight, body convulsing with pleasure as your cunt gushes slippery slick onto his thrusting cock. you swear that your toes curled so hard that the knuckles cracked and you can't do anything but roll your hips, working to prolong your orgasm as long as possible.

but nanami is aiding you in this as well, thumb still stimulating your clit and he's grabbing your leg, lowering it down from sitting on top of his shoulder so it can wrap back around his waist.

"k—kento!" you cry and he's leaning forward, hovering closely to your body so his face hangs right above yours.

"p-pretty girl. my pretty woman." he's murmuring, exhaling warm breath onto your face as his balls taut—ready to cum.

"i'm gonna make you a mama, yeah? gonna.. fuck. come here, pretty." he rambles and leans down further, pressing his lips against yours.

you're crying a 'kento' against his lips as his cock nuzzles right against your cervix, his pelvis right against yours and his twitching balls flush against your asscheeks as that vibrating coil in his stomach snaps—spurt after spurt of hot cum shooting into your needy and desperate womb, happily accepting all of it.

he's exhaling loudly, grunting into your lips as you whine back into his. his hips pull back slightly before thrusting back forward as if to ensure he's getting his cum in as deep as he can.

a few more deep thrusts into your cunt and he stills, keeping his cock wedged in as deep as he can as he breaks the kiss, allowing you to catch your breath that's coming out in little exhausted pants.

the two of you both collect yourselves, taking your time to calm down as the afterglow shifts into gears. nanami is first to speak, eyes tracing every feature of your face.

"you feelin' okay? you need anything?" his brows furrow like he's suddenly concerned, "i wasn't too rough, was i? anything hurting?"

you practically swallow a few more well needed breaths before you smile, eyes lidded with exhaustion as you nod your head.

"i'm okay, kento. you were perfect." you're sighing out reassurance, hands ungripping the sheets so you can cup his face. "so perfect." you grin now.

nanami takes a moment, visibly processing your words before his face relaxes and he's returning a small and tightlipped smile.

"i'm so relieved .." he admits, "you did so good, sweetheart."

his hips draw back fully until it's just his tip inside, the two of you bracing yourselves for the flood of cum that's probably gonna leak out of you and onto the bedsheets. yet, when he pulls out.. there's nothing.

the two of you pause and he stares down at your cunt that still continues to twitch from the lingering effects of such a strong orgasm. his face begins to grow sheepish the longer he stares.

"ah .." he starts, "i guess.. i really did ... cum deep.." he's muttering the words so flustered and you can't help but let out an airy giggle at his reaction.

"kento," your lips are spread into such a wide grin that your cheeks hurt, "i think that's what we want, no?"

his brown eyes blink at you and he's trying to collect himself as he nods. "i suppose so—yeah, you're right." there's still that sheepishness look etched onto his face and it only causes your grin to stay put.

"i love you." you tell him and that seems to break him out of his little spell because now he's grinning back, leaning forward to press a kiss to your head.

"love you too, pretty. so much." he reaffirms his love back to you and stands up straight, "i'm gonna start a bath for you, alright?"

you nod your head and even when nanami leaves the room to do exactly that, the last thing he sees is your pretty smile.

and your pretty smile is the first thing he sees after he opens a box that contains pajamas for a newborn alongside a positive pregnancy stick.

god. he's waited so long for this.

[feelgoodinct]

nsfw, mdni.

simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.

cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).

simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.

you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.

you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.

“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.

you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.

he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.

he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.

you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.

“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.

he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.

“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.

he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.

your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.

simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

some of the attractive things that the blue lock men do. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu ─ content: fluff, suggestive

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[lymtw]

Deceiving Dreams

(Toji and His Shy Girl)

Toji woke up sweating, a foul feeling in his chest after what he just dreamt. You were the star and your co-star was not him, but some random dude who was way too comfortable with touching you. His hands would brush over your shoulders and your thighs like he was familiar with your body, but what was absolutely stomach churning, was the way he kissed you softly and slowly. You didn't even push him away, instead you reciprocated the gesture. You did the sweet things that you only do with him, like smiling at this man in that way that makes wonder brim your eyes. You kissed the corner of this stranger's lips, on the same side that Toji's scar is on, coincidentally, and you wrapped your arms around this stranger with that same amount of hesitance you show Toji, as if this person you've known for mere minutes summed up the butterflies and electric feelings your lover makes you feel in that short span of time.

Toji hasn't been this unsettled by something regarding you since the time you cried during an argument that spiraled out of his jealousy. Things got out of hand, but since then, he's learned that he can't do things that way with you. He can't shut you out, and he can't snap at you or you will crumble to the ground.

Patience is a hard thing to learn, and though being with you has taught Toji how to be more careful with his words and to be understanding of your struggles to communicate certain things, at the end of the day, he's still learning. How does anyone deal with this kind of thing in a gentle and unassuming manner? He can't just spring such a question on you without it rubbing you wrong. "Are you cheating on me?" No. That is a recipe for disaster and just asking for unwanted distance. You wouldn't do that to him. He knows it, but that dream... It just seemed so real.

Hey, ma. You awake?

It's two in the morning, and you probably won't answer, but as Toji lies there in his bed, waiting for a response from you, he realizes he can't wait to hear from you, so he does the next best thing—he calls you.

The line rings a couple times, and by the third time, he's ready to end the call before he gets sent to voicemail, deeming his reason for pulling you out of sleep so early in the morning to be ridiculous. It was a dream. You're not cheating on him. You wouldn't do that to him. He knows this, yet, here he is, trying to sleep in your bed with you, like a child who woke up from a nightmare, tiptoeing over to their parents' bedroom.

"Hi, Toji," you answer, your voice quiet and slightly raspy with sleep. "Toji?" You call, again, when you get nothing from him. "Are you okay?"

He feels somewhat embarrassed for having woken you up for this, but if the deed has already been done, then he needs to make the most of it.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm doing just fine. Everything's fine. Listen, would it be alright if I came over?" He asks, already sitting up and getting out of bed.

"It's a little late, isn't it? It's..." you hum as you quickly check your phone, "...two seventeen," you respond, trying your hardest not to nod off as you lie comfortably on your side, your phone placed between your ear and your pillow, again.

"I know. I'm sorry. You don't have to wait up for me, though. I can let myself in. You gave me your spare, remember?"

You blink, tiredly, and remain silent for a few seconds until Toji calls for you. "Yeah, okay, then. Drive safe. It's raining really hard."

"Will do, mama. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you," you mumble, before hanging up the phone. You went right back to sleep, afterwards. The sound of the rain pouring outside was soothing and the coldness that came with the weather made the perfect contrast to the warmth of the blanket you bundled yourself in.

Toji got to your place twenty-something minutes later. His hoodie was heavily spotted with the raindrops it caught during the walk to your front door from his car. He fishes out his keys from his pocket and looks for a shiny, bronze key on his keyring. Once he has it, getting into your warm home goes smoothly. From taking off his shoes and setting them beside yours, to removing his hoodie so that the wetness doesn't touch you, he moves quickly. He doesn't stray from his path to finding you, not even to grab a snack from your kitchen cabinets like he normally does, no matter the time—he just goes straight to your room.

When he opens the door, Toji is met with nothing more than the adorable sight of you curled up in bed, like a puppy sleeping peacefully under a heap of toasty blankets. He shuts the door behind him, quietly, and moves swiftly, but carefully, so that he doesn't wake you up before he even starts crawling into bed with you. He gently lifts the blanket off the vacant side of your bed, and slides into his place beside you. Instantly greeted by the warmth you generated, he feels the urge to pull you into his arms and just hold you all night.

"Sorry, baby. I know i'm cold," he says, softly, when you stir at the iciness of his fingers dragging up and down the side of your neck.

You blink your heavy eyes open and take in the sight of Toji right in front of you. Him calling you wasn't part of a hyper realistic dream, he's actually in bed with you.

"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned for his reason for wanting to be there in the early hours of the morning, rather than just waiting until later on in the day. You had plans to meet, anyway. What is so important that he couldn't wait until then?

"It's nothing to worry about. Just wanted to be here with you," he responds, not totally lying, but also not telling the whole truth.

"Remember what I told you when we first met?" You mumble, not satisfied with the vagueness of his response. There seems to be more that he isn't telling you.

"You said a lot of things to me that day," he responds, with a low chuckle.

"I did," you agree, smiling softly at the memory. "I also told you something important that day, didn't I?"

You watch the contemplative expression on his face, the outward appearance of his brain whirring. It's cute, even in his handsomeness. "Do you want a hint?" You ask, though when you see his eyes widen a little, you know he won't need it.

"You're better at listening than you are at talking," he recites, with a smirk, like he's patting himself on the back for being able to remember.

"Right. So, if there's something wrong, I want to know about it. I know i'm not the best conversationalist, but you know that I always try for you."

Now that you're more awake, Toji doesn't feel so heartless for handling you like you're merely a teddy bear, so that you're lying on top of him. He wants you close to him all the time, but when you say things like that, he instantly feels the need to bring you closer. It's pure instinct by now.

"You ever get tired of me just scooping you up out of nowhere?" He asks, lips curled in amusement as he watches and feels you wiggling around, trying to make yourself comfortable. Finally, you rest your head on the upper part of his chest and let your arms go limp beside him.

"Never," you respond, simply, smiling when a low chuckle rumbles out of Toji's chest.

His arms tighten around you a little more when the room goes silent, and then he remembers why he's here. He can't lose this. Your warmth, your careful affection, the way you constantly look at him like he's the reason the moon and the stars shine at night. He never wants you to look at him another way. There's absolutely nothing hard about loving you, and if you can't believe it on your own, he'll prove it to you.

"You know how much I love you, don't you, doll?" He asks, his palms finally warm enough to work as heating pads for your back.

"I do," you assure. Maybe this is his concern—that he's not showing you enough love. No, that can't be it. If that was it, he would've waited until later on in the day to see you and talk about it.

"And how much I need you? Do you know that, too?" To that, he doesn't get a response from you. He knows you aren't sleeping, because he can feel your legs shifting against his every once in a while.

"Doll?" He calls.

You let out a soft breath, before responding with your truth.

"I don't know if you need me, Toji. When you tell me you love me, I believe it, because I feel it and I know it, but I don't think you need me."

"Don't..." he sighs, not expecting this as a response from you. "...don't say that. Don't you dare say that. What does that even mean? Because I don't fucking get it. I really don't, ma."

Your heart rate picks up a little, but you try to keep yourself as calm as possible. You understand that this isn't something he wants to hear, as the one who's helped you through so much, but you can't help but share how things feel on your end.

"Don't you ever think about how much better it would be for you to love someone who makes things easier on you rather than overcomplicating them? Someone who tells you what they want straight up, instead of having you basically pry the words from them?"

Toji stays quiet this time, not because he agrees, but because he's figuring out how to say things without it being explosive. He knows that those few seconds of relief will be followed up by a tidal wave of regret. It's not worth it. You're his little sunshine and he would never forgive himself if he was the reason for why your light died out.

"I love you, Toji, but I think about that a lot. I want you to know that if you ever get tired of me-"

"Don't finish that sentence," he cuts. "I don't wanna hear it."

There's no playfulness or warmth to his tone. Nothing but the weight of his words. Your heart feels a little heavier, but you brush it off and utter a phrase that you're all too familiar with.

"Sorry."

You feel nervous, and not in the "good" way. Not in the way that makes your cheeks heat up and your stomach swarm with butterflies, but instead the way that makes your chest feel strange, and like there's a knot forming in your throat.

"I don't wanna hear that either, doll," Toji says in response, his tone softer, now, his thoughts collected. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked to you like that. You know I love you." He presses a kiss to the top of your head and rubs the center of your back in soothing motions. The silence that returns makes your heart beat even faster. You wonder if Toji can hear it through the lack of sound in the room.

"I had a really stupid dream," Toji finally confesses, a low, humorless chuckle vibrating against his chest. "I mean, really stupid. Can I tell you about it?"

"You don't have to ask, baby," you respond. Your cheeks go warm at your use of the pet name, but it felt right in the moment. Maybe this is what's been lodged in his mind this whole time. You want him to feel as comfortable as possible as he recounts it to you.

Toji smiles softly at the term of endearment you used for him. Somehow, the way you said the word made it sound softer and even more cushioned than it already is.

His arms readjust around you, tightening the perfect amount so that you're secure against him and he can feel more of your body's warmth on his. He peppers a few more kisses on the top of your head before going on to tell you about his dream.

"So, I kind of just spawned into a room where you and some random guy were sitting on a bench, and he was getting really touchy with you. His hands were rubbing your thighs and your shoulders and..." He pauses. This is his least favorite part. He didn't like any part of it, but this part took the cake, because no one kisses your lips but him.

"It's okay," you say, encouragingly. You rub his side a few times and endure a squeeze of his arms—the equivalence of a rush of emotional support in a gesture.

"Well, you and him started locking lips, and it looked like you were really enjoying it. Your eyes were sparkly and you were smiling at him all pretty." He sighs, bothered anew, the same way he was when he first woke up. "See, I told you it was stupid," he grumbles, mildly embarrassed. "Obviously not stupid enough for me to sleep in my own bed for the night. It's fucking ridiculous. Sorry, doll."

You utter another phrase you're all too familiar with—not one you say often, but one you hear from Toji plenty.

"Don't apologize," you murmur. A few seconds pass, and you know just what to say. "Toji?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

You say it like it's as easy as breathing, because it is. There's nothing hard about loving Toji. He's good to you. It's a love you've never experienced with another, and you do your damn best for him, which is why him showing up at two a.m. isn't a problem. Him crawling into your bed, and reaching for you with hands that are cold as ice isn't a problem. He needs comfort this time, and all you can do is hope that the way you console him is enough.

"Only you, and that's how it'll always be. Your brain thought it would be funny to trick you, but it grayed on the fact that I suck at talking to people."

That made him snicker. It wasn't a reaction meant to ridicule you, rather one of immediate relief, due to the confirmation you gave him about his place as your only love.

"Not that i'm interested in pursuing others, but how am I gonna go for someone else, when I can barely talk to you?"

Now that made him full on chuckle, and you just lay there on him, withstanding the crushing sensation of his arms squeezing you impossibly tighter. You fear he might break you, but you would endure that momentary loss of breath any day if it means his heart remains whole.

"God, I love you so damn much," he murmurs, low against the top of your head. "I love you," he says, pressing yet another affectionate kiss to the area. "And I need you. I want you to understand that by... now. I need you to understand it, right now, baby."

"I don't think that's how it works," you say, humming out a soft laugh.

"Well, we're gonna make it work. Alright? You're gonna understand how much I need you."

"Okay," you say, resigned to his perseverance.

"Okay?" He repeats.

"Yeah," you confirm, lips curling, amusedly.

"Yeah?" He copies once more, knowing it'll grant him one of his favorite little sounds from you.

You giggle. "Yes, Toji."

With that, he's flipping you over, his position expressively dominant, now. It's dark in your room, so you can't really see much, but you can make out most of his handsome features, and you can feel his body heat embracing you, just as much as it did a few seconds ago. His hands are planted right beside your head and he's peering down at you, smirking at the way you look at him, like you haven't caught up with how he handled you so delicately yet efficiently to switch positions.

"You always look so pretty under me," he murmurs, leaning in closer. You in so that you see nothing but him. His hands ball up the sheets beneath them, carelessly wrinkling them as he remains merely inches above you. You slowly release the breath you've been holding in. "You mad at me, baby?"

"No," you answer, trying to remain calm, despite the heat that is beginning to seep into your face. "You've done nothing for me to be mad about, so why would I be mad at you?"

His lips press against the lower part of your cheek—a deep kiss right above your jaw. "'Cause i'm kinda dumb and do shit like this. I woke you up, and now you're losing sleep," he murmurs, against your skin.

"It's okay, Toji," you gently reassure. "I understand and I'm not mad at you." Your hands come up to his back, tentatively, feeling the body warmth that seeps through his shirt.

"No?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss closer to the corner of your lips. "You promise?"

As if trying to further comfort the giant hovering over you, you rub his back in gentle motions.

"There's nothing to be mad about. You've done nothing wrong and you're always welcome here, love." You smile when he continues planting little kisses on your cheek while you keep talking. "You have my spare key, because I trust you and I have nothing to hide from you. If giving you that key means you show up here in the early hours of the morning, because you don't want to be alone, that's okay, too. So, yes, I promise i'm not mad."

A low hum comes from Toji as his kisses inch towards your lips. A few land on the corner of your lips, then he's just a little bit off, and then finally, his lips center on yours. You feel butterflies begin to flutter around your stomach as he collects kiss after kiss from you.

"You tired, pretty baby?" He asks, his voice only audible between you and him. Not even the thin walls of your room can take away the intimacy.

"I wanna be awake with you," you respond, your voice matching the low volume of his.

"You sure?" He asks, and you do your best to convince him that you are. Your hands pull away from where they once rested on his back and you raise them to cup his cheeks with slightly shaky hands. Your touch is gentle, maybe even a little hesitant, as you begin to slowly stroke the softness of his skin. This is one of the very rare times when Toji accepts your actions in place of your words.

Your thumb brushes over the scar on his lips, and before you can even process it, his lips are on yours, again. You can feel the flourishing warmth of his face beneath your palms as he kisses you with an unexpected amount of fervor. You hear soft panting from him, as a result of him hungrily chasing kiss after kiss from you. He challenges your lungs, letting them feel a slight burn when he doesn't pull away after you've reached your limit. It's not until you're breathing heavily that he lets you go, and begins to scatter soft kisses along the side of your neck.

"Baby," he hums against your neck, leaving another kiss behind. "My sweet, pretty baby. How do you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, smiling as he continues to let his lips feed off the warmth and softness of your skin.

"How do always manage to keep things so peaceful?" He responds. His heart beats slightly faster when you release a precious laugh at the question. "Things are just... so damn simple with you," he says, softly, as he goes lower down your body. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and begin to slowly roll it above your stomach. He instantly takes note of the goosebumps that rise when his palms graze your bare skin.

"I know how much you try for me, and fuck, i'm not dismissing your effort, but I also want you to understand that it's not hard to treat you right." His hands grip your waist, loosely, and he leans in to place a kiss on your stomach.

"There's nothing hard about being with you..." he murmurs beneath your ribs, "...and waiting for you. You aren't difficult like you think you are, sweet girl."

"You promise, Toji?" You ask, glancing down at him as he continues leaving kisses on your skin.

"I promise," he assures, meeting your gaze as he presses another kiss right beneath your chest. "You want me to stop?" He asks, aware of the lack of coverage for your chest under your shirt.

"You can keep going," you respond, willing yourself to relax under his touch. He doesn't waste any time, and immediately buries his face in your bare chest. For a moment, there's no major movement coming from him, just his breathing. You think maybe he's just savoring the warmth that you've accumulated after spending hours under your blanket, but he full on melts into your body. His arms go beneath you, allowing him to wrap around you tightly once more, and he releases an audibly heavy sigh.

"It's okay," you say, softly. You keep one hand on his upper back, while the other gently plays with his hair.

He's not sure if he deserves the tenderness your touch holds for him. He tries to be as gentle and careful with you as he can, but he's so scared that one day you'll shatter and it'll be his fault. You'll walk away from him with no intention of ever coming back and something that was so good to him will be gone. You deserve to be happy—always. He knows this, but he doesn't want to picture somebody else making you happy like he does. He can't accept that. You're his girl.

"Toji?" You call. You know your little place isn't the most high end of them all, but you also know that it's not falling apart. There's no way for the rain to reach your skin if there's no hole in your roof.

"Toji?" You call once more when he doesn't answer. Your hands still on him when you feel his shoulders stutter. You have your own glum cloud resting on top of you. You feel something wet land on your chest—it's starting to rain a little.

"It's okay," you whisper, resuming the gentle motions on his back and the back of his head. "It's okay." You feel him begin to leave languid, spaced out, featherlight kisses on your chest, and you want to freeze. You want to express how impactful the gestures are, and how they animate the butterflies that reside in your stomach, but you can't. You can't and you won't do it, because it's your turn to prove that you'll take care of him when he's not at one hundred percent.

"It's... it's gonna be okay. I have you," you assure, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingers as you repeatedly thread them through, and the movement of his back beneath your other hand as he breathes. "And you will always have me, and I love you with all my heart, Toji. I need you to understand that, right now," you tease, lightheartedly, echoing his earlier words back to him in an attempt to make him feel better. You hear a congested sound, something between a laugh and a hitch in his breathing.

Not another sound is made for the next few minutes, no words spoken. Your skin catches a few more of Toji's tears as he continues to brush his lips against the entirety of your chest, reveling in the warmth of your skin. Toji can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest—the way it always is whenever he's around you. Normally, he teases you about it. 'Your heart's gonna explode if you don't calm down.' 'We don't even have to do cardio to get your heart going.' Sometimes, he just holds his fingers against the pulse point on your neck and laughs at the rapid thrumming against his fingertips. He finds it endearing, but right now, it's a comfort.

You don't mind the occasional slight pinch of his lips—the more physical proof of his appreciative affection. You simply remain focused on soothing him and reassuring him of how strong your love for him is and will always be.

"Don't know what I'd do without you, ma," he mumbles, his cheek resting on your chest. He could fall asleep so easily to the sound of your heartbeat in his ears, the feeling of you playing with his hair, and the way you slowly rub his back, but he's torn between staying where he is and coming back up to hold you close through the rest of the early morning.

"I promise I'm not going anywhere," you assure, wholeheartedly.

With that response, Toji makes his choice. He pulls his arms out from beneath you and sits on his knees, between your legs for the quick second it takes him to fix your shirt. After, he lifts the blanket and reclaims his rightful spot beside you.

"Come here," he murmurs, pulling you into his arms without an ounce of struggle. He waits for you to settle, back against his chest, before fully enveloping you in his warm embrace.

"It sounds like pebbles hitting the roof instead of raindrops."

"Mhm," he hums, into your neck, letting his hand slide beneath the front of your shirt to caress the soft skin of your abdomen. "If your roof starts leaking, you're coming to stay with me." It's not a question or an offer.

You laugh. "The rain isn't that bad."

"Mm..." His lips home to your shoulder, a gentle peck placed on the concealed area. "Love seeing your pretty face first thing in the morning. You stay with me if your ceiling ever caves. Okay? Okay."

"Okay," you respond, through a giggle. "You'll be my first call."

"Good," he murmurs.

"I'll make you breakfast later, when we wake up."

And though Toji responds with, "Sounds good, ma," all he can think about is how you're going to struggle so hard to get out of bed because he's going to make it nearly impossible for you to do so. The gears are already turning in his head. He'll pin you down, he'll strengthen his hold around you, he'll roll on top of you "in his sleep". You're too polite for your own good, you most likely won't try to wake him up. He'll swaddle you in the blanket, he'll tie your shirts together in a tight knot-

"Goodnight, Toji," you mumble, feeling your tiredness return as he continues drawing little lines and shapes on your stomach.

"'Night, baby," he murmurs, feeling much more content and at peace with the idea of sleeping knowing that you're in his arms, not in anyone else's.

[luvbabydoll]

— under their noses — chapter one

a series by © luvbabydoll — inspired by @goatgoesmbe

you never intended to start an only fans.

but between nursing school, grueling shifts, and bills that refused to pay themselves, you had to get creative. and what started as a desperate attempt to make ends meet quickly turned into a steady income.

the men on their seemed to like you. they liked your voice, the softness in your tone, the way you spoke like you meant it. you never showed your full face, but that only added to the mystery. you played into it—the sweet, teasing persona, the gentle praise, the intimacy that kept men coming back for more.

and, completely unknowingly, the entirety of Task Force 141 had fallen for you.

—

it had all started months ago.

one of their missions had gone sideways—bad intel, long hours, more bodies than they were expecting. and by the time they got back to base, exhausted and strung out, all they wanted was food, alcohol, and sleep.

but mostly alcohol.

soap was the first to bring it up.

slumped against a crate, half a bottle of whiskey deep, he let out a groan and muttered, “boys, i think i’m in love.”

gaz snorted, kicking his boots up on the table. “oh, yeah? you have some girl we don’t know about?”

“angel.”

ghost, who had been silently nursing his drink, stiffened.

gaz raised an eyebrow, “angel…?”

soap pulled out his phone and waved it lazily. “she’s some onlyfans girl, mate. best thing that i ever stumbled upon. swear to god, she cares about me.”

gaz laughed. “you are down horrendous, johnny boy.”

“oi, don’t judge me ‘til you’ve heard her. this girl is unreal. always saying the nicest things.” soap sighed dramatically.

gaz rolled his eyes. “yeah, mate. ‘cause she’s getting paid to do that.”

“so? it still counts for me.”

gaz held out a hand. “alright alright, lemme see.”

soap hesitated for a moment. “...fine. but don’t be weird about it.”

gaz took the phone, tapped through a few of the videos, and went silent.

after a moment, he muttered, “okay, shit. you might be onto something.”

soap smirked miraculously. “told you.”

ghost, who had been quietly brooding, finally spoke. “you idiots just now finding out about her?”

they both turned to look at him shocked.

gaz blinked. “w-wait, what?”

ghost took a sip of his whiskey, deadpan. “i’ve been subscribed for months.”

soap choked on his drink. “YOU WHAT?”

ghost shrugged carelessly. “found her first.”

gaz’s jaw dropped. “y-you mean to tell me you—simon ‘i hate everyone’ riley—has been secretly been subscribed to an onlyfans girl this whole time?”

ghost didn’t answer. he just took another sip of his whiskey.

soap stared at him, with a look of betrayal that you see in movies. “and you didn’t tell us?”

ghost gave him a flat look. “why the fuck would i tell you?”

soap pointed aggressively. “you gatekeeping bastard.”

gaz shook his head in amusement. “price is gonna lose his shit when he finds out.”

“Finds out what?”

the three of them turned to see price walking in, looking mildly suspicious.

for a moment, nobody spoke.

and then, without missing a beat, gaz held out the phone. “cap. you gotta see this.”

and that’s how, in the span of one drunken night, every single one of them became your most loyal subscribers.

—

and then you arrived.

your first day on base was nothing special—standard introductions, paperwork, getting settled.

well for you, at least.

but for them? it was a nightmare.

soap noticed it at first.

your voice—was way too familiar. too exact. the way you spoke, the soft warmth in your tone. it sent a shiver down his spine.

gaz eventually picked up on the way you moved—the tilt of your head, the way your fingers ghosted over their skin during check-ups.

ghost, who was normally unreadable, was tense.

and price? price just sighed a lot.

none of them said anything. they couldn’t.

because if they were wrong—if this was just some wild coincidence—then they’d look like absolute idiots.

but if they were right?

then their sweet, soft-spoken angel had just walked into their lives, completely unaware that every single one of them had been on their knees for her voice alone.

and fuck, they were not prepared for that.