#when she wears the dress it’s ‘he/him’ but this fit is a she her fit

[cherriesformatt]

you belong with me || matt sturniolo

mattxfem!reader

summary: reader is in love with matt but he has a bitchy ass girlfriend so she is just there for him every time he needs a friend

warnings: angst, fluff, a bit sad, kiss

word count: 1,5k

a/n: hi it's a first day of autumn! did not proof read yet

🍒

I walked in to my best friend's house as we were supposed to hang out this evening but as I walked up to the living room I heard some voices from his room. Sounded like he was on a phone walking around his room.

"I told you we were hanging out today, I saw you this morning and we went shopping. I did not see y/n for a week!" I heard Matt say.

His voice and tone told me him and Ginny were arguing again. About me. Again.

I sight and I already knew that our plan to hang out will go to hell because he will go and apologize to her. Thats how it was for a past 5 months of their dating.

It is not that I do not like her. I want Matt to be happy. I just feel like she is not what is good for him. She does not even know him and they have nothing in common. I do not even know how this whole thing happened.

When I saw him walking into the kitchen as I was sitting at the table I smiled lightly.

"Hi, I brought the coloring books we got last month and some snacks" I said.

"I-I am sorry y/n can we do it another day? I have to.."He looked at me with sad eyes.

"you have to go to see Ginny, I know. It is fine, 'course we can do it another time" I made myself to smile at him.

He not and juts turned around and left. Just like that. I left the bag with stuff I brought and let myself out as I closed the door behind me.

On Friday Nick asked me to come to one of the parties they have been invited to and I agreed. He told me I can wear whatever and that the party is at Jake's house. So nothing that fancy. I put my low rise jeans on and ransom baby tee that I got from Matt. I did my makeup as I usually do and left my hair down. I put on my sneakers and left my house to go and meet my friends at their house so we could take one car.

"Finally..." I heard Ginny sight as I walked into their living room.

"Hi, we can go, sorry there was a bit of a traffic" I said and smiled when I saw everyone.

"Are you going to change?" Ginny asked me and I looked at her questioningly.

"No? This is what I am wearing" I said and she only nod and took her purse.

She had on a very short dress and pair of platforms and her hair was done nicely as well as her makeup. She looked good, she always did. But the way she was always dressed was not my style at all.

"You look great, kid. Do not listen to her, your fit is fire" Chris said guilty to me as we were walking down to the garage. I looked back at him and just smiled to thank him.

"Can we play new carti's song? It's so good" I said to Matt as I lean in to the front seat. I was seating next to Nick in the back and Chris was seating behind us. Matt and Ginny were in the front.

"No, we're listening to my music" Ginny said and I looked at Chris as he looked at me. None of us liked her music taste.

Few days later Matt asked me to go for a midnight walk with him as we used to do all the time. I was so happy to finally spend time with him. He came to my house and we went out. We were talking and laughing and it felt as I did not see his smile for so long. My favorite smile of all.

"Matt are you okay?" I asked looking at him.

"Yes, why? Of course I am" He said and I nod.

Of course he was. He loved her.

"I need to tell you what dreams I had the other nigh.. I told Ginny but she always say my dreams are fucked up" He said.

I smile because we always were telling each other about dreams we had. I could listen to him for hours. And so I did.

After he walked me back and was about to go. He hugged me so tight that I almost gasped. I wrapped my arms around him and gently crossed his back.

"I missed this...spending time with you. I am so sorry y/n, I was bad friend" He said and stepped away a bit still holding me. I looked at his eyes and I swear I felt like his face was getting closer to mine.

"No worries Matt, all good. I am glad we could spend time now" I said and then he moved away. I wished he did not.

We said goodnights and he left. As I walked in to my room all the emotions I've been holding just left my body. I cried myself to sleep that night. I just wished I was the one that was making him happy.

I have been so busy with school and my job that I released two week passed from when I last time hang out with Nick, Chris or Matt. We have been texting on the group chat that we had since high school but Matt was pretty quiet on it.

I was finishing my shift as I saw Nick calling me. Nick never calls. I picked up.

"Everything okay?" I asked straight away.

"Not really. They broke up. I think he needs you. He won't talk to us" Nick said and my heart broke thinking of Matt not feeling well.

I drove straight to their house from the coffee store I worked at. I was still wearing my uniform. I wanted to be there as quick as I could. I walked in to the house holding a bag of pastries and trey off hot coco.

"Hi, is he in his room?" I asked as I saw Nick and Chris in the kitchen.

"Yes, thanks for coming here" Nick said.

"Of course, here thats for you" I gave them one bag and two cups with chocolate drink.

"Thank you y/n" Chris smiled and rubbed my arm. I nod and took a deep breath as I walked to his doors.

I knocked on it lightly.

"Come in" I heard so I did.

I looked around and Matt was laying on his bed. He was on his side and his head was laying on the pumpkin stuffy he got recently.

"Hi...Ho are you?" I asked and took a seat next to him.

"I brought you hot coco and your favorite donut" I said putting it on the shelf next to his bed.

"Better now... that you are here" He said and he moved and he put his head on my lap. My heart felt like it is going to explode. I sight and I gently started to scratch his head as I knew he liked. And I felt him relax. I smiled looking down at him. He looked like a big baby.

"She was not worth you" I whispered.

"I know" He simply said and that got me surprised.

"That is not why I have been sad. Honestly from the begging I knew she was not it. I mean we never really even had anything to do together. Every time I spent time with her I was thinking about talking to...well you" He said quietly and moved away.

He brought his body up to so he was now sitting in front of me.

"I am sorry y/n, this past two weeks.. All I could think about was how happy I felt on that walk with you how happy you made me feel how she never did" He said.

"And I know... I messed up so bed but... I wanna fix it... I want all of this again.. I want you... I want you more than a friend... I want..." He started but I just could not wait any longer. I grabbed his face and lean in to kiss him.

It felt like I was waiting for this moment for eternity of time. Cartwheels in my stomach were going crazy when he kissed me back. I tangle my hand back into his hair as I let him take control of the kiss.

When we moved away with heavy breaths I smiled at him. He brushed my hair out of my face and smiled as well.

"I was so scared you won't feel the same" He said.

"Well then you must be blind because I was feeling this way since we were 18" I said and he lean in to kiss my temple.

"What can I do to reward you my stupid behavior?" He asked and I smiled.

"Can we finally color the books that I brought you?" I asked and he laughed.

"Yes... you go change and I will get all the stuff" He said and smiled so bright at me that I felt like whole world disappeared for me and there was only him.

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Chapter 11 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2500

Warning: Mild smut/fluff

You were back to bliss. Loving Joel had you high as a kite and light as a feather. You might as well have skipped your way around that afternoon leading up to your planned night away with him.

Since you didn't have to lie to your mother anymore, at least not fully, you took your time packing your things for the night before heading out the door. Joel was already out on the course with your father, and so all that was left for you to do was check in. With your father occupied, also playing golf, you figured checking in to the room would be a safe bet.

Your heart rate picked up when you drove through the parking lot of the hotel, knowing the golf course was adjacent to it. For good measure, you tossed on a pink and blue netted ball cap and hurried inside with your duffle bag slung over one shoulder. You caught a quick glimpse of yourself in the door’s reflection and decided you did good by wearing a cute but casual blue and yellow checkered, button down dress.

As you approached the front desk a middle-aged woman smiled. “Checking in?” She asked.

You nodded. “The room should be under Joel Miller and (Y/N).” You couldn't help but couple yourself with him. It was like a personal badge of honor to broadcast that you two were together - even if it was just to one stranger.

“Looks like you're already paid in full,” the woman explained, “Can I just see some ID, please?”

You nodded and retrieved your drivers license from your purse and eagerly handed it over.

“Thank you.” She glanced at your photo, typed a few things into her computer and handed it back. “Would you like both cards, or will Mr. Miller be by to pick his up?”

“I'll take both cards and just let him know I've arrived,” you decided on the spot.

“You got it.” She shoved both key cards into a white, paper sleeve and handed them to you. “Room 612. Elevators are around this corner. Breakfast tomorrow goes from seven to ten and there are fitness rooms on every floor. Pool is on ground level and the bar in the lounge is open until midnight.”

“Thank you!” You smiled, readjusted your bag and hurried around the corner to the elevators.

..

“Thanks for inviting me, Tim.” Joel exchanged a handshake with your father and the two of them chipped away at the bottom halves of their beers.

“Of course.” He gave a nod. “I hope you and the Mrs. can work things out. My wife says Cecille moved back in.”

Joel cleared his throat and took a swig from his beer. “She.. she's back in the house but we're not..” he shook his head, “..we're not getting back together.”

“Oh.” Your father's eyebrows raised, “Well, I'm sorry to have mis-spoke.”

“It's fine.”

He shook his head. “No, I shouldn't have said anything.”

“It's fine,” Joel assured him. “Cecille just decided to drop back in with no notice.” He added, “So, I appreciate the hotel room. You didn't have to do that.” There was guilt that rested on Joel's shoulders, knowing Tim’s daughter was accompanying him overnight.

“You're a good man,” Tim went on, adding insult to injury. “If you need anything from us, let Jen or I know.”

“Thank you.” Joel's smile faded a bit and he masked it by the bottle. He knew his feelings for his neighbor’s only daughter were real; but he was fairly certain that Tim wouldn't see it that way.

Fuck.

“We’re having that picnic tomorrow,” your father reminded Joel as the two of them hopped into the golf cart that would lead them back to the club. “Feel free to stop by and have a beer and a burger.”

“Sounds good.”

Your father cruised the golf cart the short distance back and Joel helped him load his clubs into the trunk of his car. The men parted ways with a handshake as Joel thanked him again for the room.

“I hope you get things sorted out,” your father said with a nod. He gave a wave and slunk into the driver’s seat before driving away as the sun began to creep below the trees.

Joel loaded his car and scooted around the corner to the posh, little hotel that was tucked into the trees and overlooked the course. He made his way inside, checked in at the front desk and made his way up to room 612.

Butterflies made home in your stomach when you heard the door to the hotel room click open. You were about to rise to your feet to greet Joel, though he made his way into the room before you could.

A smile bloomed on your face when your eyes locked. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Joel grinned back and shrugged his bag off his shoulder to the floor.

“How was golf?”

“Fine.” He stood at the foot of the bed with his hands on his hips.

“Did my dad shoot for par?” You snickered but saw Joel couldn't quite smile. “What's wrong?”

Joel rounded the bed and sat down on the side of it, placing a hand gently on your ankle. You knew he couldn't help it when he leaned in and kissed you. It made you smile into the kiss.

He pulled back just an inch or two. “I feel bad for lying to your parents about all this.”

“It's not exactly a lie,” you reminded him.

Joel's eyes remained set on yours. He sighed and let his thumb dance along your ankle bone. “He comped me the room.” He began to shake his head and then looked back up.

You toyed with his hair and then rested a hand on the side of his face. “You might be the best man I've ever met.” You meant it, seeing the guilt in Joel's eyes.

“A good man wouldn't…” He shrugged.

“Joel,” you said, making his eyes meet yours again. “We’re not doing anything wrong. I get that we're neighbors, and that you're friendly with my parents, but I'm an adult.. and I love you. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing.”

Joel never looked away. His hand snaked up your calf, and he began to run his hand up and down the area. He tipped the corner of his lips up in a half-smirk. “You make a solid argument.”

You pulled him back to you, kissing him a little firmer. “As soon as I land my first real job I'm moving out,” you added, “And then you can come over to my place guilt free whenever you want.” You guided him down on top of you on the bed.

Joel’s tongue penetrated your lips and your arms wrapped around his back. “Then we wouldn't be neighbors anymore,” he whispered with a little laugh, making you smile against him.

As your hands pushed up at the back of his shirt, Joel aided your pursuit of him and ducked out of it. He hovered above you, locking his arms in place on either side of where you laid.

“I was going to take you to dinner first,” Joel said in all honesty while still smirking down at you.

“I say we do it all backwards tonight.” Your hand rested on his forearm. “Sex, dessert then dinner.”

Joel huffed a laugh. “Well, I usually don't put out unless my meal’s paid for, honey.”

You laughed a little louder, pushing yourself partway up and resting your hands behind you. Your lips were only an inch or so from his.

“If you really want to take me to dinner first I'll let you.”

Joel never broke eye contact as his fingers reached for the top button of your dress and undid it. He then did the same with the second and the third until you were able to easily shrug your shoulders out of the top of it.

Neither of you said anything else. You accepted a long, sensual kiss from Joel as your hand made home on the side of his face.

You couldn't get enough of him. You wanted to feel the weight of Joel's body. You wanted him inside of you - all the time. You wanted to watch the expression on his face and feel his breaths against your neck. Every moment of intimacy left you feeling needy and satisfied all at once.

When you felt him fill you, your breath became short. You had waited for this all afternoon - as if you hadn't just been with him in your parents’ kitchen earlier in the day. Still, it felt too long.

Joel’s fist gripped the pillow as his other pulled up on the back of your thigh. He nudged your legs apart wider with his knee and drove himself deeper into you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered the word and it motivated him to repeat the movement again and again. “Joel.” You wanted him so badly.

Your legs pressed firmly into the outsides of his, securing him between your legs as if to tell him never to stop. And he didn't; not until he was a sweaty, panting mess on top of you, groaning out as much of your name as he could manage as he buried himself in you a final time.

Fuck. There was something euphoric about watching Joel orgasm. Not only watching but feeling him in that moment. The muscles tensed in his back and shoulders, you could feel it beneath your palms. It was erotic and hot and made you fall deeper and deeper for him. You were a Joel Miller addict.

Your lips pressed together and Joel hummed a moan into your mouth. He rocked his hips gently into you a final couple of times before letting his head fall on the pillow beneath you.

Your eyes flickered open and you eyed the ceiling, still clinging to him as he remained dormant inside of you. Your breathing steadied and you swallowed hard. Before Joel you always thought sappy moments to be corny and unrealistic. While you still wouldn't label yourself as the lovey dovey type, you couldn't help but whisper to him.

“I love you, Joel.” You felt it fiercely and fully. Since first meeting Joel, you were a changed woman.

He lifted his head and planted a firm kiss on your lips, making your eyes close again. Joel then pecked your lips several times in a row. “I fucking love you,” he said in an enthusiastic whisper.

Dessert and dinner were halted by your lust for one another. After a short intermission littered with pillow talk and gentle touches, Joel pulled you on top of him for another round of love-making followed by an aftercare shower together.

When the two of you were finally seated in a dark corner of the hotel lounge, you were still fully flushed and glowing.

Joel's hand topped yours on the table and he smirked across the way, highlighting a set of boyish dimples. “Dessert first,” he reminded you.

Your finger traced over the back of the menu. “Something decadent.”

“You already had that,” he teased, still grinning behind his menu.

“I'll require an encore,” you said back, making him laugh.

“You may be the death of me.”

“I'll be gentle.”

The two of you shared a laugh before ordering a pair of espresso martinis and two pieces of what appeared to be a rich, chocolate cake. When the dessert arrived, it didn't disappoint.

Joel forked a bite of his own and extended an arm across the table, slipping a bite into your mouth. “Decadent?” He asked.

“Very.” You raised your martini glass as you finished the bite. “To..”

“Us,” Joel finished when you didn't.

You smiled. “To us.” You tapped your glass against his. “And tackling the obstacles together.”

“I'm glad I have you in my corner, baby. It's been a long time since I've felt that way.” He took a sip, prompting you to do the same, and then you leaned across the high top table to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I'll always be in your corner.”

Joel's eyes never left yours. “I know.”

@mellymbee @pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @writlingerz @vickie5446 @drewharrisonwriter @churchofjoemiller

[ohsc]

requested by @prentissluvr | basic but completely adorable is sam trying to do his little girl's hair with his big hands and she's so small and he's like argh why is this so difficult T_T but he's trying so hard and he's so concentrated until she gets squirmy and he has to give up and do pigtails before she gets annoyed LOL

tysm for the request sweetheart this was SO soft to write i love your brain so so much <3 | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.2k, fluff, pining, not proof read, requests only open for juno fics

“Like Fawn, daddy.” Juno told him, sat with her legs crossed on the bathroom counter, looking up at him through the mirror as she messed with the barbie she had held in her hands.

“Like who?” Sam asked, frowning in confusion as he brushed through her hair as gently as he could. Since she’d woken up that morning — and in turn woke him up by climbing into his bed and tugging on his hair — she’d insisted that she needed to look pretty for when Y/N visited. She was already dressed in one of her pretty dresses, a puffy blue thing covered in flowers. It was a little big for her, he’d had to roll up the sleeves, but there was no convincing her to wait until she’d had a growth spurt to wear it. On top of the dress, she wanted her hair to look pretty, too.

It was getting a little long, Sam knew that. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for the past few weeks, he hadn’t had the money or the time to go and get it cut, and he was not going to attempt to do it himself.

“Fawn,” she scowled at him through the mirror like he was stupid. “Fairy. She likes Tink.”

Ah, the fairies. A week ago she’d decided that she was too big for princess and she liked fairies instead. The idea of her getting too big for anything made his chest squeeze uncomfortably with the idea that his baby was getting older. He could remember when she could fit comfortably in the palm of one hand.

“I thought you wanted a braid, Junebug.”

“Mhm.”

“Fawn has a braid?”

“Yes.” She scowled again and he almost laughed at how cranky she got sometimes.

“Sorry, baby, I forgot,” he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You want one or two?”

She held up two fingers before she went back to playing with her barbie.

Sam honestly thought it would be easy. He could kind of remember how Jess used to braid hers — though he tried not to think of her much anymore — and since Juno had less hair it seemed easier.

It took him five minutes to even part her hair as she kept moving around, and by the time he had a section in his hands strands kept slipping out of his fingers. His hands felt clunky, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he tried to braid the three strands.

“Daddy,” she’d started squirming, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from complaining when she moved her head and he dropped one of the strands, the entire braid falling loose. “Done?”

He let out a breath through his nose. It wasn’t her fault, he usually just put her hair in a ponytail and tied a bow around it. “Not done, sit still please.”

He combed out the braid with his fingers and tried again, honestly a little irritated at how difficult it was.

She moved again and he tried to lean forwards as she did so not to pull her hair, but just ended up braiding the wrong strand of hair through.

“Juno, please,” he breathed out, letting go of her hair to shift her back in place on the counter. “You need to stop moving sweetheart.”

“Wanna play.” She whined, and when he glanced up at the time he sighed. He wanted to clean up a little and get some food going for when Y/N got there, and time was getting a little tight.

“Okay, alright Junie,” he leaned down and kissed her head, gave her sides a gentle squeeze as he looked back at her in the mirror. “Why don’t I just do some pigtails, hm?” She pouted and his heart aches. “It’s quick, and you can go play until lunch, okay?”

She nodded, and he kissed her head again with an apology before he brushed her hair and tied them into pigtails, securing two blue bows into her hair in the hopes that she’d find it just as pretty. It was a win when it earned him a sloppy kiss on the cheek as he lifted her up from the counter to get her down.

One of the bows was missing by the time Y/N got there.

She’d used the spare key to get in — she’d been doing that more recently, and he tried not to think about how it made his heart thump a little harder — and he’d been at the stove stirring the macaroni he was cooking, so he didn’t have time to stop Juno from running straight into her legs as she walked in.

“Hey princess!” Her voice was cheery despite almost getting knocked off of her feet, and Sam could hear his daughter giggling down the hall as he made sure the water wouldn’t bubble over before stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall. She had Juno on her hip, not even out of her coat yet, little arms tight around her neck with a tight hug. The sight made his heart swell, a dopey little smile on his face as he watched them for a moment.

“Are you all dressed up for me, Junie?” She cooed, hugged her to her chest, and beamed at Sam when she looked up and met his eyes.

His poor heart couldn’t take much more.

“Yes, s’my pretty dress,” Juno informed, chubby cheeks and a toothy smile. “Daddy did my hair wrong.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tattle-tale.” He scoffed, walking over to take his daughter into his own arms so Y/N could shrug her coat off. Juno didn’t seem to mind, just didn’t take her eyes off of the other.

“He did? Oh no,” she hung her coat up on the hook, and was smiling in far too much entertainment when she turned back around and faced them. “What did he do wrong? Is it the missing bow?”

“Want Fawn hair.”

Sam mouthed braids over the top of her head at her look of confusion.

“Ah, I see,” she reached out and gently combed her fingers through the ends of Juno’s pigtails. “Well, do you wanna know a secret, Junie?”

Juno nodded enthusiastically, and Sam almost dropped her when she leaned forwards fast to hear her.

“I know how to do braids,” she told her as if it was a secret, leaned down a little to be at her level. “Maybe you could go and get me your hairbrush and some pretty bows and I can do them for you, hm?”

“Okay!” Juno immediately started squirming and Sam laughed as he put her down, watched her run down the hall and into her bedroom, before he turned back to face Y/N.

“Thanks,” he breathed out a little laugh, a hand pushing through his hair. “Wasn’t gonna hear the end of that one.”

She giggled, smiled so pretty he thought his heart might give out. “Figured as much,” she stepped forwards and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, and he was definitely on the road towards a heart attack. “Maybe after lunch I could teach you how to do it? If she sits still for long enough.”

Sam practically grinned as he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

Oh he was so in danger.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Tell Me You Missed Me

Tom Bennett x Reader

Summary: Word around the street is that you went on a date with someone else? Tom Bennet, fresh of the navy vessel, is not happy to hear that.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, P in V, orgasm denial, excessive teasing

Word Count: 3000

A/N: From my old blog, a request by @humanpurposes! ILY Gee 🫶

———

The smooth tones of Duke Ellington echo through the narrow alley leading to your house. 

Tom knows what that means.

You’re alone.

Your parents despise jazz, leaving you no choice but to play the two records you’d worked all summer to afford in solitude. 

He grins to himself, stopping right by the front door to run two hands over his sailor suit, smoothing out any possible wrinkles. 

“Fuck, didn’t bring any flowers or nothin’”, Tom curses himself inwardly as he brings one hand up to knock on the crummy door of your family home. Impatient as always, he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he pushes the door open with one hand. 

“Oi, could you keep it down, miss?”, he half-shouts as he enters your house, grinning widely as his eyes immediately find you, seated at the dining table only a few paces from the entrance. 

Your eyes go wide as you take him in. 

He’s back. 

The cigarette that’s been dangling between your red-painted lips falls down to the table as your mouth opens in surprise. 

He’s alive. 

“Tom”, you breathe out, voice no louder than a whisper. 

When he left to join the Navy, you were sure that he’d never come back. Yet here he is, in your house, smiling just as brightly as before he left. The sparkle in his eye is there too. 

Just like you remember him. 

He steps forward, kicking the door closed behind him before taking two long strides towards you. He reaches down to pick up the still glowing cigarette on the table, taking a deep drag. 

“Take it you didn’t miss me then?”, he teases as he looks down at you, his broad-shouldered frame towering over your seat. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back”, you reply honestly, eyes still wide with disbelief as you look up at him. 

It was easier to assume that any young lad being sent away would never come back. Then the inevitable heartache wouldn’t hurt as much. 

“That why you went dancing with Mike Jones?”, he asks. The glimmer of mischief in his eyes seems to disappear as they narrow in accusation. 

“How’d you know about that?”, you answer, unable to shake the surprise from his sudden visit. Still wearing his uniform and hair neatly combed to the side, you’d guess he came straight from shore. 

“Word goes ‘round, y’know”, Tom states with a shrug, an attempted display of indifference, eyes trailing from your dumbfounded expression down your body. You suddenly feel like the form fitting everyday dress you’d thrown on in a haste earlier today was far too revealing, making heat crawl up your chest, neck and onto your cheeks. 

“Well, I’m here now. Dance with me”, he requests, a large hand reaching for yours resting on the table. 

“Tom, I-“, you stutter as you pull your hands away from him. 

How long will he be back for? 

How has life been at sea?

Did he miss you? 

“H-, how long are you back for?”, you stand up as you ask, one of your hands coming up to briefly touch his cheek. 

To make sure it’s really him. 

That he’s real. 

His expression looks sterner, jaw tightening as he snatches the hand you touched his cheek with, pulling you closer to him. 

“Dance with me”, he repeats, this time as a demand. 

You let him lead you, the hand not holding yours settling comfortably on your waist as both of your bodies sway slightly to the fast tones coming from the gramophone. 

“Suddenly you’re a dancer?”, you inquire playfully as you look up at his face through your lashes. He isn’t really; his pace does not match the rhythm of the song in the slightest and he barely lifts his feet as he sways in place with you in his arms. 

“Apparently”, he answers with another shrug of his shoulders. Your eyes flicker down to take him in once more. You’ve never seen him this dapper before; uniform highlighting the broadness of his shoulders, blue collar matching his eyes, and not a hair out of place. 

“An awful one”, you continue to tease him as the hand you’ve placed on his shoulder squeezes him softly. 

He hums humourlessly at your jab, the hand placed on your waist slowly travelling down your side, squeezing your hip and stroking your thigh over the fabric of your dress. 

Just as you're about to grab his hand and tell him to behave, he moves it under your skirt in one swift, quick motion; letting his palm roam across the soft skin. 

“Tom!”, you yelp as you try to push him away, stepping back quickly so that his hand can’t slide up further. 

“You liked that stuff before”, he says indifferently, grip on your hand still tight so that you can’t back away further. “Or is it Mikey Jones that touches you like that now?”

His tone is much harsher than before; his attempts at remaining carefree failing as cracks start to appear in the nonchalant mask he’d put on. 

“Tom, I was lonely and didn’t think you’d come back.. He took me dancing once, nothing more”, you try to reassure him. 

There’s so much you want to know; to ask him. How’s life in the navy? Is he eating well? Can he sleep? Does he get seasick? Has he received your letters? 

But all Tom seems capable of is obsessing over the fact that you took pity on Mike Jones from down the street and let him take you out. 

It’s your turn to take command, stepping forward to rest both of your arms around his neck as you look up to meet his stern glare.  

“Did you get my letters?”, you attempt to change the subject, fingers playing with the short, sandy hairs at the base of his neck. 

He hums again, reluctant to properly answer you though he pulls you closer to hold you in his arms. 

“I thought about you all the time, Tommy”, you say before getting on your toes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

He pulls you even closer, mouth meeting yours in a sudden, passionate kiss that almost takes your breath away. He presses his tongue between your lips, demanding entrance to deepen the kiss, practically bending you backwards as he devours you. 

The act is incredibly dizzying; it leaves you breathless, exhausted and in the need for more. 

This time, when his hand moves to squeeze the soft meat of your inner thigh, you don’t step back. Instead, you push your body closer to his; your soft curves pressing into his sturdy chest. 

His impatient fingers soon move inside the fabric of your underwear, stroking your folds experimentally before letting two fingers part them. 

“Already wet?”, he grins as the tip of his fingers finds your bundle of nerves, drawing quick circles. The calluses on his work-worn hands scratch slightly against your sensitive skin and the sting of pain somehow amplifies the pleasure he’s giving you. 

Tom remembers exactly which kind of touch you like; how to make you putty in his hands. His tall frame still looms over you as he speeds up the pace of his hand, eyes watching your reaction intently.  

Your legs tremble as pleasure fills your being, peak hurtling towards where you stand in Tom’s embrace. One strong arm around you, keeping you in place, as his fingers move in and out, palm repeatedly pushing at your pearl. If not for the hold he has on you, you’re sure you’d be on the floor by now, legs almost unable to stand by themselves. 

“This what you thought of?”, he asks, eyes narrowing when they meet yours, fingers continuously working you towards release. You're standing so close together that your noses touch, breathing in and exhaling each other's air. 

You moan in reply, holding onto his shoulders like they’re your only anchor in a sea of all-consuming pleasure. With the last bit of strength you have left, you tilt your head up to ask him for another kiss. To your surprise, he denies you by moving his head to the side, mischief once again dancing in his eyes. 

Just as you’re about to peak, Tom stills, hand inside your knickers but unmoving. You whine in protest, glassy eyes looking up at him pleadingly. 

“What do you want?”, he questions with a wink, clearly pleased at how incredibly fast he’d reduced you to a trembling mess. 

“Make me feel good Tommy”, you request breathlessly, sounding way more desperate than you’d like. His lips stretch out into a wide grin, revealing his dimples. 

“Don’t know what that means, love”, he retorts, amused voice matching the cheeky curve of his lips. 

His smug demeanour is entirely infuriating, knowing that he’s already got you wrapped around his finger. It was always like this with him; he’d offer you bliss but only on his conditions. 

“Please make me peak”, you mumble, humiliation making you feel even hotter. He knows how embarrassed you get from your sporadic trysts, preferring to revel in how good he makes you feel than to think about the true nature of your filthy encounters. Your lover’s different, however. 

Tom chuckles at your plea, lowering his face to place a wet kiss on your cheek. 

“Nah, you’re not gonna get off on my fingers”, he says contemplatively, pouting mockingly at your tearful expression. “I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you do that”, he concludes and you wince at his crude language. He was so crass sometimes, it sent anxious waves of embarrassment through your stomach. 

You wish he could be like the romantic lead in one of the American pictures screening in town, full of promises of eternal love while placing lingering kisses on his lover's hands. But your Tommy wasn’t. 

The ache between your legs makes you lose all composure, so when he leads you to the dinner table, seating you upon it, you don’t protest. 

He stands between your legs, the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist as his hands move to drag your underwear down your legs. When you see him pocket them, you reach for his hand in a feeble attempt to take them back, but he just clicks his tongue as he swats your hand away. “These stay with me”, he grins as he pats the pocket of his trousers twice. 

He steps forward, standing so close to you your noses knock together, his lips ghosting over yours as his warm hands once again slide up your things. One of his fingers slips under the buckle of the garter belt you’re still wearing and playfully snaps the band against the meat of your inner thigh. 

Your lips part as you gasp at the sting and Tom takes the opportunity to kiss you, tongue coming out to lick your bottom lip slowly. His kisses before he left for the Navy were always hurried; quick and aggressive. But the way he kisses you tonight makes your knees weak; slow and sensual, one strong hand coming up to hold the back of your neck to secure you against him. It leaves you feeling dizzy; mind foggy from the want you feel for him. His lips travel from your mouth to your cheek, jaw, and neck, smearing saliva all over your heated skin. 

As his hands push your thighs further apart and he begins to undo his trousers, he whispers against your skin, “This the table you have tea at? With your mum and dad?” 

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, so caught off guard you almost push him away. But you don’t.

“I don’t want to think about that now, Tom”, you reply sourly, though your voice sounds breathless, too filled with desire. 

“But I do. What would they say if they knew what their little girl was up to now? With the neighbourhood’s nuisance at that”, he says and you can feel him smile against the delicate skin of your neck. 

As you're trying to come up with a coherent reply, he starts to suck on the spot right below your ear and the retort at the tip of your tongue is replaced by the loud moan you let out. 

You feel him take a step backward, though his face stays hidden against your neck. You angle your hips slightly so that he can enter you easier, all you want is for him to finish what he started with his fingers. 

“Fucking her on their table”, he groans out as he pushes inside you in one swift motion. 

The sudden stretch and sense of fullness feel so overpowering you moan out again, longing for him to continue to work you towards the release you so desperately crave. 

As he snaps his hips against yours, his pelvis makes contact with your swollen pearl and you throw your head back in pleasure at the stimulation. 

Pushing your palms into the wooden surface underneath you, you bring your hips up slightly to meet each of Tom’s thrusts. He curses under his breath, gripping your hips tightly as he drags his length through your slick walls. 

It’s been so long. 

You’ve missed him so much. 

The sudden realisation that he's actually back, that you’re together again, paired with the familiar tightening as pleasure ascends inside of you, makes you clench down on him harshly, causing you both to moan in unison.

Tears of relief well up in the corners of your eyes as the climax you were previously robbed off seeks you out again. 

Tom continuously rolls his hips to meet yours, his length finding that spot inside you that makes you feel like you're floating. You wonder if all men are capable of this; of making young, sharp women into whining tarts. Or if it's just him. 

He once again slows his pace as your walls clamp down on him in a staggering rhythm, denying you the pleasure you so yearned for. 

“Tommy, please! I need release”, you sob, one frustrated tear falling down your flustered cheek. 

“You don’t need anything”, he scolds you, though he still has that cocksure smirk hiding behind the stern tone. “You just want a quick shag and for me to be on my way, s’that it?”

“No, no”, you shake your head in denial. 

“Then fuckin’ enjoy it”, he chides, ducking his head down to offer you another slow, breathstealing kiss. 

You want to enjoy it; enjoy being with him once again, but you can’t stop the ache between your thighs from consuming your senses.

Tom, knowing you better than you know yourself in this state, takes advantage of your dwindling gumption. 

“What do you want”, he asks again, one large, heated hand coming up to grab your chin. 

“I want you to make me peak”, you repeat, this time with a bit more confidence. You’ll play his silly little games, you don’t care about sounding vulgar anymore. 

Tom nods in understanding, feigning contemplation as he cocks his head at you. 

“You want me to fuck you?”, he clarifies and you immediately winch at his choice of words. 

Wasn’t he already?

You stay silent, shame, arousal and want making your inner monologue incoherent. 

“Tell me what you want. You want me to stretch out this tight cunt of yours?”, he inquires as he once again rolls his hips against you, causing his length to hit that spot that makes you weak. 

“Yes”, you whisper in defeat, nodding slightly in confirmation. The fingers holding your chin press into your skin harshly, “I can’t fuckin’ hear you”, Tom bites back. 

“Yes, I want you to fuck me”, you repeat, voice still low and filled with shame. He’s gotten what he wanted; he’s won once again. 

“Such an indecent little thing”, he muses as another boyish grin appears on his face. Feeling high on the rush of victory, Tom takes pity on your miserable state.

“Hold on to my shoulders”, he instructs as he picks up the pace once again. You follow his directive mindlessly, sweaty palms grabbing the fabric of his uniform harshly, surely ruining the crisp attire representing His Majesty's Servicemen. 

Tom’s lips find yours again, kissing you softly while the movement of his hips are anything but. He pushes you down onto the table, and you wrap your tired, shaking legs around his waist with the last strength you can muster. The new position allows him to enter you deeper as he consumes you fully, making the table underneath the two of you creak loudly with every slam of Tom’s hips. 

You feel the wetness between your thighs trail down your buttocks, dripping onto your family’s dining table. The thought makes you clench around Tom’s length again, aroused by the depravity he’s led you into. 

One of his hands moves down your stomach, lowering to swipe his thumb against your bundle of nerves. You whine at the brief contact, desperate for more. You’re so close now, you can feel your peak approaching again.

“Who’s the only bloke that gets to fuck you?”, he asks, thumb resting on your mound, waiting for your reply. 

“You, Tommy”, you answer instantly, voice whiny and shrill from despair. If he denies you release again you’ll surely compost from the tension restricted inside of you. 

“That’s what I thought”, he triumphs, thumb awarding your submission by granting your pearl stimulation. 

You peak within seconds, the tension inside of you erupting in an internal explosion of bliss, causing your hands to curl into fist, legs shake and breath get caught in your throat. Tom, seeing your face scrunch in pleasure as your walls tighten around him, climaxes with a loud grunt on top of you, body stretching taunt in pleasure before his arms give in, body sinking down to heavily rest on top of yours. 

You're still breathing heavily when he pushes himself up on both arms again to lock eyes with you. “Tell me you missed me”, he commands quietly, making it sound far less patronising than his previous demands.

You lift your head up to kiss him again. “I missed you”, you reassure him, smiling at his fleeting display of insecurity. 

How could you not? 

———

Thank you for reading! 🩵

[asuyaka]

Hiii, it's kind of a weird request so I totally understand if you ignore

Would you mind writing fluff with some comfort for Dazai with a trans male reader (ftm), when the reader is very transphobic (only) towards himself, because he doesn't want to be this way cause it's not something 'socially accepted?' the reader is rather chameleonic n generally cares a lot about how he's seen and if he fits in, going as far to change his whole way of acting based on who he's talking with or when he can't mirror someone's personality putting on a charismatic, playful, talkative facade. (Basically a social3 in detail but not manipulative if u know that term) because of his desire to climb social ladder and massive fear of lacking social acceptance, he tries to gaslight himself into thinking he's cisgender most of the time, which only makes him feel worse?? The 'all I want you to do is give me all of your love&applause and for return I'll be whoever you want me to be' type of performer.

Sorry for being picky but please don't write the reader as a submissive scared little thing that can't be assertive at all I hate that in comforts I beg u

★ - this hits so close t'home cause 've always struggled with my gender identity n'stuff then I realized there's a buncha labels, too many f'me to care about ! *^__^*

☆ - Dazai Osamu x FtM Reader!

♡ - really hope I wrote him well f'ya anon ! O(∩_∩)O | CW: copious amounts of misgenderin' (she/her & terms like 'girlfriend are used for the first half, please be warned !!) & transphobic language !

[Name] looked at his her the outfit in the mirror, a black body con dress with a slit that ran up [Name]'s thigh.

The longer [Name] stared at the reflection the more an urge to throw up formed. Dazai would be the door for their date, and every dress [Name] tried didn't sit right.

They were either too tight, not tight enough, too short, too long, or too boxy— the point was nothing worked.

It didn't matter if [Name] put on a skirt or a crop top, they made everything feel worse to the point [Name] wanted to call the date off, but that would make her a bad girlfriend, and she wanted to be good.

The doorbell rang. "Babe? You haven't answered your phone, are you okay?"

[Name] groaned and opened the door. Dazai glanced over her outfit with wide eyes. "Wow. Uh, nice dress, but what's the occasion?"

[Name]'s eyebrow raised. "What do you mean? I always wear dresses."

Dazai walked into [Name]'s apartment and plopped onto the couch. "No, you don't. You told me you hate dresses and skin-tight clothes."

She glared at her boyfriend, a deep frown on her face before scoffing. "Okay, well, I like them now. Girls like dresses anyway."

The brunette paused his actions and stared. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

[Name] rolled her eyes. "What did I say?"

"You're joking, right? You aren't a girl— I asked you out because you're a man, and I wanted a boyfriend."

Boyfriend.

The title made [Name]'s heart well, like a warm blanket draped over her body. It didn't cause that sick, gut-wrenching feeling like 'girlfriend' but they weren't a boy.

They couldn't be a boy.

[Name] gulped thickly. "...I'm not a tranny, Dazai. What would my coworkers think? My parents? I can't— I was born a girl, Dazai, I shouldn't... feel this way."

Osamu gently holds [Name]'s hands. "Baby, what are you talking about? You've always been my boyfriend, you being born a woman doesn't change that."

"But I... it's— Osamu, it's not right. If I act too masculine, I could lose my job and have my neighbors hate me, but I fucking hate having to act like somethin' I'm not." [Name] sniveled, wiping his cheeks at tears that began to form.

Dazai guided his boyfriend to the couch and cupped his cheek. "You shouldn't have to change yourself to make other people happy. You're my boyfriend, the only boy in the world I've genuinely loved, and I don't want to see you destroy yourself for the better of someone else—people who don't even know you."

"If you lose your job for being you, then you could work with me. I'm sure Boss wouldn't mind having a new employee."

With a gentle kiss, Osamu chuckled. "And I'd finally get some work done so I can relax with my perfect boyfriend in the world."

[Name] sniffed as his boyfriend pressed another kiss on his wet cheek. "...is it 'cause you're lazy?"

"Eh... not lazy, just... working smarter and not harder!"

"Not working at all doesn't count, Osamu."

Dramatically, Dazai held a hand to his chest and rolled on the floor. "Woe is me! My boyfriend keeps bullying me even after I call him perfect! What do I do?"

He lightly laughed and placed a soft hand on Osamu's hair. "Maybe take him on a date?"

The brunette immediately sat on his knees with sparkles in his eyes. "He still wants to go with me?"

[Name] kissed Dazai's forehead and smiled. Even with the thoughts swirling in his head, Osamu always had a way to make him feel better. "He'd be delighted to go on a date with you."

[forwhump]

a/n; I have a whole truman show style day in the life thing I did w point that I was trying to find but there’s a lot of creepy weirdness to sort through first to find it & I found this one instead & I feel it’s particularly ugh so <3 couldn’t let it go to waste

enjoy some rambling point introspection :’)

tw/cw: rape, noncon, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, kidnapping, captivity, psychological torture, sexual exploitation, degradation, misogyny

creepy whumper, rapist pov, the ramblings of a madman, mentions of a living weapon

“I think I’m in love with you,” Point tells the naked, crying girl shackled in his bunk.

Her wrists are bleeding from how hard she had tried to fight to get them free. She isn’t fighting anymore; he’s tired her out. He likes her tired. She looks up at him with wide, wet eyes and her bare skin is so warm. Quietly, she hiccups, “there’s something really fuckin’ wrong with you.”

She’s got such a stupid accent. A real backwoods aw, shucks kind of accent. She tries to thin it out as much as possible but she hates him so much she can’t control it around him, sometimes, and he knows she hates that, too. He loves it. He loves the accent, too, even if it is stupid as all get out, even if his men make fun of him for it relentlessly. They’re all full of shit — they’d each jumped at the chance to ride the cowgirl, and they each jump, still.

She’s fuckin’ unreal in that lethal, Playboy bunny, girl next door kind of way. A real fantasy kind of way. Blonde bombshell, right? What man in their right mind doesn’t want to fuck a pretty blonde? First time Point had laid eyes on her, sitting on the floor of that trap house, he knew he was gonna keep her. She was special. She had a mouth like Princess Peach and Point could fit both hands around her waist. He was never gonna let her go. Couldn’t.

Then she spoke, and Point had been taken aback by the stupid accent, thick and unexpected, the backwater twang of banjos, denim overalls, and tooth gaps.

The milkmaid braids had been his idea, a branch of two separate, very good ideas. The first was to put her in her place; her accent was stupid, and it was embarrassing, and the hat and the boots just didn’t feel humiliating enough. The second was that she had already gotten under Point’s skin; she spoke, from the floor of that trap house, and he’d just as quickly started harbouring a fantasy of holding the farmer’s daughter by her sweet braids, tied off with ribbon, and fucking her face. Vineyard, the creative bastard, had supplied the milkmaid dress — his niece was twelve, and it had been a Halloween costume. Wren’s a tall girl, long legged, and the dress never fit her, not properly, but it never needed to. They made her wear it for a long time, anyway.

Point has an inkling that might’ve been where his thing for the accent had blossomed, but it’s hard to say. “Oh, darlin’,” he croons, and he’s mocking her. He does it a lot, and doesn’t always do it on purpose but most of the time he does — it makes her flush, and he likes her flushed.

He likes her a lot of ways, really. Tired, flushed. He likes her when she’s crying and when she’s trying to fight him off. He likes her when she’s begging and when she’s sobbing so hard she can’t choke out words. He likes her when she’s barely conscious, all soft and wet and pliant. He likes her when she’s pretending to like him because she knows he’ll kill her dog if she doesn’t. He hasn’t had her in a way, yet, in fact, that he hasn’t liked her; he actually likes the girl in all ways. He doesn’t even like his wife in all ways. It’s why he thinks he might love her — it’s why he knows he does. How typical, right? The handsome jock and the hot blonde. Who could’ve predicted it?

She’s already flushed with crying but she flushes a little darker with humiliation and Point grins.

She definitely isn’t perfect — she gets a bit shrill, and her thing for the dog upsets Point so completely he can’t think about it too hard or he loses chunks of time. But her hair is pretty, and her mouth is pretty, and her cunt is always warm, and she really is beautiful, in that really rare, really impossible kind of way.

Point would keep her all to himself if he could, right here in his bunk. He’d stop applying for leave and she’d stop having to go back to that disgusting doghouse. He’d gotten close, once, but it didn’t last. And that’s not to say he’d stop letting his men use her, either — it’s everybody else. It’s that fuckin’ dog.

He stops grinning and spits in her face.

He doesn’t mean to, not really, but he looks down at her and he sees the way she looks at that thing. Point is being generous every time he calls it a dog, but chunk of meat is just too wordy. Is what it is, though, isn’t it? An ugly chunk of meat a couple of the military’s poindexters had reanimated. She doesn’t look at Point the same way she looks at that thing, and how is that fair? She does it on purpose, just to upset him. He knows she does.

She recoils and he grabs her by the jaw. Holds her still. “Open.” She struggles, trying to lean away, and he presses the back of her head harder into his mattress. “Open,” he demands, and she does on a sob and he spits again, into her mouth. She chokes and he hears himself tell her, “you’re disgusting.” She sobs again and he spits, “stop fucking the dog.”

“I’m not —“

“And stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snaps.

That’s her worst thing. Worse than the whining, and the fact that she opens her legs for that thing — she’s a liar. She’s always lying.

But fuck, does it almost tie with the fact that she opens her legs for that thing. He hates to think about it but it’s hard not to equate it. Does she get just as wet for him? Does she make the same noises? It would probably make him hate her if he wasn’t in love with her.

“Why can’t you just be a good girl?” He asks, and he doesn’t mean to ask so sincerely. “Why do you have to be a whore?”

She looks up at him from beneath his hand with a hatred that radiates off her like heat. He’s willing to bet she never looks at the dog like that.

He’s also willing to bet the dog doesn’t know. It’s dumb, and he can’t see the girl telling it the truth. It had been wildly protective of her from pretty early into its placement, after however long it had taken the girl to manipulate it into wrapping itself around her little finger. Something about it makes her feel safer, more secure, even if it’s just a cute little lie she tells herself to sleep better sometimes. Even with the added guard dog, she’s still here with Point. She’s still been here with Point for hours.

He doesn’t care for the dog — he thinks it’s a hideous waste of meat and a disgusting fuckin’ science experiment — but he could probably feel bad for it if he let himself. The dog is just so dumb and it has no idea that its little girlfriend is a well fucked whore and if that if Point plays his cards just right he can get her to beg for his cock.

“You could be perfect,” he tells her.

She’s still crying — she’s usually crying — and she’s always doe eyed but when she cries it makes her eyes look a lot bigger and makes her look really scared and really pathetic. Point’s always thought she looks prettiest when she’s scared.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” she tells him, and she enunciates very carefully.

“Shucks,” he mocks, and grins when she flushes, predictably. Fuck, she’s pretty. If nothing else, she’s pretty. It’s almost enough to forget the stupid hillbilly accent and the fact that she fucks dogs.

He puts his hand on her thigh. She tries to flinch away but he holds her there, pressing bruises into her pale thigh in the shape of his fingertips. Vineyard bites her, fucks her up pretty bad sometimes, likes to mark her that way, but Point’s never cared much for biting. Point’s always liked to bruise.

He pushes her thighs apart and the way she trembles in his hands makes him smile. “Stop,” she begs, and the poor girl must be so tired but she makes a valiant attempt to fight him off, anyway. “Please. Please, no more.”

Point clicks his tongue as he settles between her legs. “You know you don’t get to decide when we’re done here, cowgirl,” he says. He holds her down against his sheets, standard issue — black, as opposed to the asset grey. Better thread count, too. The girl should be grateful, he thinks, that he prefers to fuck her here, on the best sheets in their chunk of the district, instead of the shitty sheets in the unit, instead of the concrete of any of the floors.

Point would love, in his wildest fantasies, to get her furlough and fuck her at home. His wife was in charge of the furnishing and all that, because why does he give a shit? But she knocked it out of the park with their sheets. The mattress, too. The whole bed is great, and Point would love to get the girl out of here and fuck her on it for days consecutive. He would love to ruin those sheets. But it would be sticky, ‘cause he’d have to get his wife and all four of the kids out of the house and to stay away from the house at the same time. The neighbourhood is affluent, but that annoying, gossipy sort of affluent that his wife finds so friendly but that makes Point sick and enraged. If he sent his wife and children on vacation, then showed up at the house, with or without a blonde considerably hotter and younger than his wife, they’d gossip. His wife would find out, at the very least, that he took leave and didn’t mention it to her, and that’s a can of worms he doesn’t think he wants to open. That’s the debate, at least.

But it’s an ongoing debate. Every time he’s eligible for leave again, he considers it. Sometimes, in his bunk with this girl, when her skin is especially warm and her cunt is especially wet, he thinks it would be worth it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he tells her again.

She sobs.

[authorautumnbanks]

Accidentally Dating (14)

Summary: A series of accidental dates and meetings between Kagome and Satoru over the years.

Pairing: KagomexGojo

Series Master list

Kagome frowns as she looks down at Satoru. He's still sleeping? She nudges him with her foot. "Get up already." It's a little past 9 a.m. and it's not like Satoru to sleep in at all.

For whatever reason, he didn't want to sleep in her room last night, so they watched movies and fell asleep in the living room.

Satoru groans and spikes a hand through his white hair as he sits up. The cover falls and pools around his lap. "How long was I out?"

Has his eyes always been that blue?

"Long enough. Yesterday must have really taken a toll." She holds out the coffee mug for him, made just how he likes it. A lot of sugar and a dash of coffee. "I can make breakfast."

"Nah, let's go somewhere." Satoru's fingers brush against hers as he takes the mug. He peers at her as he takes a sip. "Spend the whole day together."

Her stomach flutters. "Well, come on then."

Satoru grimaces. "I can't, right now. Give me a moment."

Kagome rolls her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic."

"No, I can't." Satoru's cheeks flush pink and he's no longer making eye contact with her.

Okay, now he's worrying her. Why can't he get up? Kagomescrutinizes him and then bites back the gasp.

Oh. OH!

"Uhhh, just get up when you can. I'm gonna finish getting ready." She backs away. "Glad you can get it up. I mean—" she squeezes her eyes shut and then runs out of the living room. Oh Kami, she did not just say that! When she gets to her room, she slams the door shut and slides down on the floor with her back to the door. "I actually said that," she says, voice muffled by her palms.

Knock. Knock.

"You good?" Satoru asks.

"Peachy! I'll be ready in a bit." Kagome worries her bottom lip between her teeth. Her face is burning up. Nope. Nope. Nope. She is not going to think about Satoru's morning—Kagome slaps her forehead.

This isn't happening.

Three hours later, and she's still thinking about it. At this rate, her face is going to burst into a ball of flames because every time she looks at him, she thinks of this morning, and thinking about this morning means thinking about how the cover pooled around his waist and the tent was so large.

"Are you too hot?" Satoru leans over and presses his forehead to hers. "We can go back."

"I'm fine!" She takes a step back, but Satoru wraps an arm around her waist. Get a grip, Kagome! It's just Satoru. "I'm fine," she reiterates. "We don't need to go back. Besides, we came all this way. I want to know what's in Enoshima."

Satoru presses his lips together, but he gives her a little space. "The Ryuren Bell of Love is here." His cheeks stain pink. "It's a... legend has it if we ring the bell and put a padlock on the fence, then we'll be bonded together forever."

"Oh." Kagome ducks her head. Great, now she's flustered. "So how did the legend come to be?" She swallows as she looks up. His arm is still around her waist and his touch is hot. He smells nice, too.

"A five-headed dragon fell in love with a maiden on this island and reformed his ways to be with her, so I guess the legend is if an evil dragon can change his ways forever for a maiden, then everyone else who stands on the hill will be blessed too." He bites his lip. "When we were younger, I always referred to you as my maiden, at least to myself, since you grew up on a shrine..."

"Spit it out." She pokes him in the side.

"Well, they said I was a god, and I figured every god needs their own maiden." He smiles so hard, his dimples show. His white button-down shirt is freshly pressed. Paired with his shades and the bracelet she got him years ago, Satoru could pass for a model. The only casualness of his outfit is his jeans.

"You thought of me as yours even back then?" She palms her throat, lightly flexing her fingers over the pulse. Despite wearing a simple brown fitted dress with straps, her body is burning up. The denim jacket wrapped around her waist may have been overkill. If Satoru keeps being sweet like this, she will combust.

"I..." Satoru turns his head. The tips of his ears are as pink as his cheeks. "Yeah, I guess I did." They stand there for a moment, neither saying a word, but his fingers brushing her side say what they can't say.

"Let's go ring this bell," Kagome says, taking charge of the situation. She is the oldest one after all, and she swears steam is coming from his head. Guess she isn't the only one overheating. He should have worn short sleeves. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You thanked me already," Satoru says with a huff. "And that was a while ago."

"Yeah, well, I'm grateful for the food."

"After this, we're going shopping, or we could do something else."

"I don't need any more clothes, but we could do an arcade and then dinner." She wraps her arms around him as they head up the steps. "I like this. The scenery." Kagome gasps.

"What?" Satoru stiffens and looks around.

"We have to go to fox island sometime."

Satoru sighs. "I thought something happened. Not today since we don't have time, but I will take you." His lips curve up. "You're already planning our next date."

"I'm about to perform a ceremony that will bind us together forever."

"That's—this is different!" He splutters. "And I mean, it's not like it will actually do that, not that I'm against it, because there is no one but you for me, and I'm not trying to—"

Kagome presses her fingers to his lips. "Breathe. It's fine. Really." She moves her fingers, but he grabs her hand and places it back on his lips.

Oh boy.

"Well, aren't you two a pair of lovebirds," a woman says. Her dark brown eyes are old, much older than how she looks. Her hair is just as dark and goes all the way to her knees. She looks eternal like with the pink kimono and the pattern white flowers. "Come with me. I have just the padlock for you two." She turns with an expectation they will follow.

There's a stiffness to Satoru that wasn't there before. An uneasiness. Kagome reaches for his hand and pulls him along. He must still be shaken up about his near death the other day.

Truthfully, she wakes sometimes in the middle of the night with a scream stuck in her throat and her hands clawing at her chest, trying to keep her soul contained. A secret she's never told him and probably never will because then Satoru will try to fix it somehow when there is no fixing it.

Not really.

"Come on, Toru."

"I don't trust her," he whispers, giving her hand a squeeze. "Something is iffy with her energy."

"It's warm," Kagome says simply because that's all that matters to her. The woman's energy is warm and friendly. "Besides, we came all this way. Let's make it official."

"Kagome!"

"What?"

"You can't say things like that."

Oh, this is rich. He can go around yelling that they are married for years, but the moment she alludes to it, he gets flustered? Kagome rolls her eyes, making a big show of it just to mess with him.

The pretty lady leads them to a shop, a little off from the others where the other citizens are gathered. Satoru is tense as they wait near the door. If the lady notices, she doesn't comment. Instead, she walks around the counter and pulls a box from underneath.

"Here we are." She smiles at them as she removes the top. "The padlocks in the main shop are far too simple for you, too." She pulls out the padlock that is huge in her hands and places it down on the counter.

"What is this?" Satoru questions as he moves closer.

"A padlock," the woman says slowly.

Kagome squints at Satoru and sighs. "I'm sorry. It's just this padlock is special." She gives the lady a meaningful look.

"Are you matchmaking again?" A gruff voice asks, followed by heavy footsteps. The man is tall with dark hair pulled into a high ponytail and tanned skin. His eyes are a light brown, almost honey in color. His kimono is dark blue and simple.

"No, they are already together." The lady sniffs. "But the six eyes is wary."

Kagome places a hand on Satoru's chest before he picks a fight. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Oh! Benzaiten." She holds out an arm to the man. "And this is Ryuren."

"You're named after the dragon and the maiden?" Satoru's tone seeps with skepticism.

"No," Kagome answers. "He is the dragon." She looks at the woman. "So that's why your energy is so warm. You're the real deal. Not like Kaguya."

"Who?"

"The Shikon priestess is astute. Naturally, as you have my blessing." Benzaiten laughs, and the sound is like bells ringing on a crisp fall day. "Here, take this. Engrave your names on the padlock and ring the bell."

"You want to give that one to them?" Ryuren scratches his head and yawns.

"One lifetime is not enough. May your love transcend time and space itself."

Satoru picks up the padlock and curls his fingers around it. "What do we owe you?"

"Nothing. Seeing you two is enough for me." She shoos them away.

"W-wait," Kagome says. "Do you mind taking a picture of us?"

"Of course!" Benzaiten pulls Ryuren behind her. The sight of the tall man... demon with broad shoulders and a permanent scowl on his face is something. "Oh! Grab the camera. The one with the instant film."

"Fine," Ryuren sighs. "But if you try anything..." his nostrils flare and puffs of fire blow out.

"Don't start it and it won't be none," Satoru says flippantly. Kagome rolls her eyes and pulls Satoru along before the island becomes a battle zone. He's picking fights when they should be making allies. There's so much she wants to ask them.

How is he here?

Are there other demons?

What about maidens? Are there other celestial maidens?

"Kagome," Satoru says, pulling her out of her musings. "Ya gonna write your name?"

Oh. They're at the fence already?

She takes the sharpie and writes her name just under his and just to mess with him, she draws a heart in between their names.

"How's that?"

Satoru's face is as red as the padlock. Seriously, she's never going to stop teasing him now.

"Let's go ring the bell now!" He chokes out.

"We have to attach it to the fence first," Kagome teases.

"I know that." Satoru pouts as he attaches the padlock to the fence. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of it. "Okay, now let's go make it official."

Something tugs on Kagome. On her soul. She turns back to the fence. "Sorry, hold on." The pull is more incessant now. Pleading. In front of the padlock, she clasps her hands together and prays.

A happy life for her and Satoru. She prays that neither time nor space separates them. No matter if she is in the past and he in the present, they will always find their way back to one another. That not even space, and all its convoluted mess, can keep them apart. In this life and in the next, they are bound.

"Ready now," she says, opening her eyes.

When they get to the bell, Benzaiten and Ryuren are already there. The line is nonexistent and Kagome suspects Ryuren has something to do with that. Satoru holds out his phone to Ryuren and takes a step back.

Guess that's some kind of truce?

Kagome bites her lip and rubs her hands down her sides. Her palms are sweaty and her heart rate is not cooperating. It's just Satoru! It's just ringing a bell.

And yet.

This feels like the start of forever and with the prayer she just prayed replaying in the back of her mind, this feels like something bigger than them.

"Let's do it together," Satoru says, placing his hand over hers. The bell rings out. Kagome stares at it and then laughs. The nervousness fades away as the bell slows down. "Hey Kagome," Satoru says, dropping his hand to cup her face. "Can I kiss you?"

Her laugh dies in her throat as the nervousness seeps back in with a vengeance. A kiss? She nods, not trusting her vocal cords to cooperate. Satoru hesitates for a brief moment. He's just as nervous as her. He brushes his lips against hers and maybe it is because it is her first kiss or maybe it is because it is simply Satoru, but she swears it is the kiss to end all others. She throws her arms around his neck and leans forward on the tip of her toes, desperate to get closer.

Distantly she hears Ryuren groaning about why he has to take a picture of this.

When Satoru pulls away and flicks his gaze back to her lips as if he can't get enough, Kagome's legs wobble.

Oh... her eyes widen. She's in love with him.

***

A/N: Where did September go? Swear the month just started. Didn't initially plan to bring Ryuren and Benzaiten into the story, but they insisted and here we are.

"Is Syouma delegating his work to Ryu?" - Yep, and Ryu loves the trust that Syouma has in him. Though he is a bit gruff about it.

"What if Kagome is a compatible star vessel replacement?" - Higher-ups can't demand that of Kagome if she were (she isn't) Yuki was never forced to do it. My mind is blanking but I think you also have to be invited by Tengen to reach her.

Next update will be the Multiverse chapter. No date in mind because I think I'm getting sick, but hoping to update later this week. And then working on Thousand Days. The chapter I was working on didn't feel right, which means the guys are going to be stuck together for a while longer lol. They haven't suffered enough.

Take care! Get plenty of rest and make sure to drink plenty of water. Stock up on some soups too (though chicken noodle soup from scratch is the best). Have an awesome week!

[sonicattos]

been in my folder for a while here. take masc amy rose 🤲 (for fun!)

[rocksanddeadflowers]

Been thinking about applying the myth where Thor has to pretend to be a giants bride to get his hammer back (you know the one, right??) to the TBI characters. Doubt I'll write it out but I have SO MANY THOUGHTS ON IT. My main thought atm being that, from what I remember, Heimdall was the first person to suggest Thor cross dress. Which is just. The excuse to right out Heimdall's involvement is almost as enticing as getting to write out Tyr. He's just. So silly to me. But so badass. I love him.

I can see everyone in the TBI setting at some grand meeting table for the Aesir (and co.) with Thor freaking out about his poor hammer (which, yes seems tricky to write in TBI context but. We'll just patch that plothole it with something later, I have a loose thread idea or two.), Freya desperately trying to avoid involvement in the entire debacle, Loki concerned but still trying not to giggle at the absurdity while Sigyn kicks her under the table to tell her to stop laughing. Heimdall leans over the table towards Thor, trying to remain stoic but his small smirk and gold eyes glittering with Loki approved mischief somewhat gives him away as he suggests, "If we don't want to risk our dear stunning lady here, and you need your hammer back, why don't you be Freya?"

Loki loses it laughing and most of the table can't help but laugh or giggle quietly, including Sigyn. Thor is immediately against the idea, but Loki is already signing up to be his handmaiden in between gasps of giggles (because she would never miss out on such good mischief), and really the idea is such a hit that Thor is sorely outvoted.

The story is still brought up for years to come, typically for a laugh at Thor's expensive. Still no one could deny he looked damn good in that dress.

[youngpettyqueen]

every day I have visions of transmasc Quark and transfemme Rom

[hauntingblue]

Strong world is the nami and luffy twins manifesto written by oda this is my one piece.

You see luffy's finishing attack with his giant hammer being fueled by lightning which is nami's main weapon with her clima tact and she even made the guy steer the islands towards the cyclone so even if the lighting isn't produced by her the lighting is provided by her either way so luffy AND her finished that guy and even luffy attacked after nami announced how he will lose which also means nami knew and trusted luffy to end him after that and of course he did and

Oh my god luffy making nami explain herself about the message he left on the tone dial and being pissed that she didn't trust him to save and protect her but he got so mad and didn't hear the whole message and she asked luffy to save her omg....... she knew after all that they will come and win..... I love this ending I am going to walk into the sea now goodbye.

Why are whitebeard and ace on the ending credits I already cried. Watching aces part again cause he looks so good. Hello alive dead wife

[toyfrogs]

help 😀

[moodyvamp]

can i be completely honest for a moment

[lavenderspence]

Bump Relief - S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try

Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife? 

A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy! 

Requests are open for both Spencer & Hotch🫶

Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were. 

He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years. 

But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.

At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you. 

But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester. 

Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose. 

He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it. 

Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped. 

He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack. 

He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it. 

But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more. 

He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again. 

Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though. 

“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts. 

“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.” 

“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.

“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through. 

“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow. 

He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes. 

“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.

You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath. 

Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really. 

It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop. 

Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly. 

You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.  

Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes. 

Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.

You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door. 

“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad. 

You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”

You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over. 

Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.

“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.

“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work. 

“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch. 

With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours. 

“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words. 

“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there. 

His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too. 

“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise. 

You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up. 

“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe. 

He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down. 

“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”

“What are we doing again?” 

“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper. 

“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved,  thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband. 

“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment. 

“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care. 

He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[nanaslutt]

gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk

When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..

contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.

Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.

Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.

Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.

Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.

Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”

His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.

You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.

This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.

Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.

He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.

He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.

Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?

See? This was a hundred times better than the club.

But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.

When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.

Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.

“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.

“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…

“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.

“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.

“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.

He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.

“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.

“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”

Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.

You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.

Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.

He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.

The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.

Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.

After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.

He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.

You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.

Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.

Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.

One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.

Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.

Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.

He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.

But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.

He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.

Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.

His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.

Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.

“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.

Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.

“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.

Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?

Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.

“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.

“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.

“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.

“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.

He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.

It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.

Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.

Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.

He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.

He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.

He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.

“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.

Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.

The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.

You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.

“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.

“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.

“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 

“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.

“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.

“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.

“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.

“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”

You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.

Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.

“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.

“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.

“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.

You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.

"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.

Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."

"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.

"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.

"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.

"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.

He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.

Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.

"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.

The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.

When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.

Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.

You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.

He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.

Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.

He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.

"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.

The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.

You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.

Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.

Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.

"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.

"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.

Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.

"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.

"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.

You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.

Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.

"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.

Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.

Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.

"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.

His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.

"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.

Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.

Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.

Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.

"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.

"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.

You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.

"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.

"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.

"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.

Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.

“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.

“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.

Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.

Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.

He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.

The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.

His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.

Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.

Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.

“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.

“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.

“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.

Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.

“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.

“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.

“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.

You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.

His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.

Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.

After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.

He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.

As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.

You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.

“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.

You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.

You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.

Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.

“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.

“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.

Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.

You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.

He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.

“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.

“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.

You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.

“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”

“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.

“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.

Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.

“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.

“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.

“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.

“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.

Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.

“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.

Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.

Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.

“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.

You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.

The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.

“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.

Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.

Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.

His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.

“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.

“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.

“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.

“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.

He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.

You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.

“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.

Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.