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#bring back white collar
ssk374 · 6 months
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CaffreyBurke Day 2023
23rd October 2023 CaffreyBurke DAYYY!!! Cheers 🥂 to my favorite boys, the iconic duo of Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke <3
Thank you @jeff.eastin @mattbomer and @tim_dekay for giving us this dynamic duo <3
Here's my entry @operationmorewhitecollar <3
Plus I died 💀💀 detailing Neal's Jacket/Coat...
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multiseb21 · 5 months
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louloveshismoon · 2 months
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she did, in fact, nail his ass to the wall and recover her painting.
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skitskatdacat63 · 4 months
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Fashion wise, what is your favorite historical period?
Hmmmm this is hard honestly, cause I can be convinced into any if I see enough pics/paintings tbh. I really like anything post ~1630s or so(I HATE THOSE RENNAISSANCE ERA PANTALOONS) Also oops idk much abt women's fashion bcs I like men's clothing a lot more ;;;; I love suits. love wearing suits. Yeah.
I feel very fond obviously of late 1600s-early 1700s obviously bcs of boy king au. I like how pre-19th century, men's and women's clothing feels pretty evenly matched(in terms of flamboyance and detail.) So much embroidery and ruffles and everything. And I really like breeches, how high waisted they are. I guess I really like the cut of the clothes. Also Napoleonic era, so important to me, I love how high waisted the breeches are, the stockings, the tailed coats, and everything yknow???
I also really like late 1800s-early 1900s as well, mostly bcs of Leyendecker's art. Like if you've seen Oppenheimer, the suits he wears before Los Alamos are soooo perfect to me. I really like how flattering they are to the body, small waist, long legs, broad shoulders aahhhh!!!
If only it were socially acceptable to wear suits all the time 🤧 I find modern fashion to be pretty boring, even if easier
Anyways this is historical me if you even care:
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Cofi told me this painting looks like me 😔 true tbh
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aphomic · 5 months
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Dopie is Ozy's lil meow meow now I don't make the rules here
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Doppie tagging behind Ozy's back bc the crowd has suddenly grown larger and he's now anxious
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deeisace · 1 year
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Another small addition to my white collar leverage crossover
Per White Collar "As You Were", Peter's poker night is Friday - and the Boys/Girls Night Out Job/s transcripts say that's a Friday, too ("so, what, random shots fired in the big city on a Friday night? That's not unusual")
I did completely forget it's New York vs uhhhhh Boston I think at that point right? But y'know, geography can be fudged. Let's make America's train system slightly better for the duration of one fic, we can do that right?
I looked it up, that's 220 miles and 4 hours by car, or 5 hours by train - which is basically the same distance as my house to Hammersmith, apparently, which is 3 or 4 hours by train
And,, this is not important okay bye
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apricusapollo · 1 year
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style by taylor swift is soooo neal x sara i am chewing on concrete i miss them so badly 
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firebirdsdaughter · 2 years
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Ya know…
… Given how much animosity he displays towards Fowler, I don’t think Peter completely believed that Neal had taken the diamond in 1x07.
But I do think he had to tell/try to convince himself he did. He didn’t really have many choices in that situation. Peter’s generally a stoic, he likes stability, and he likes rules. Legally, he was trapped. He could throw a fit about it, but, well, we see what happens when Fowler does get him to lose his cool. Peter’s options were limited, so I think he weighed going along w/ it as the better, less dangerous option for both of them (Peter putting up a fight might not/probably wouldn’t have stopped them sending Neal back to prison, and might’ve caused more issues). After that, there’s just not enough evidence and he’s under scrutiny, so it’s easier to just shut it down and say he believes it.
He’s protective of Neal when Fowler first starts questioning him, is even willing to take Mozzie as an alibi (curse Neal’s inability to lie to Peter, Mozzie would have backed him up), the extra ‘please’ about remaining silent, icily telling Fowler Neal did good work, blaming Fowler more for everything (‘I was working my ass off to keep this kid on the straight and narrow before you showed up’) after Neal escapes, being wilfully unhelpful in the search (I love how they reuse a line from the first ep to show you when Peter is covering for Neal—twice, in both s1 and s4)… That’s not the attitude of someone completely certain that Neal committed a theft of an insanely expensive diamond. If Peter believed it that strongly, he’d’ve arrested Neal at his house immediately, he wouldn’t waste time groaning about him involving El, and it takes one minute to talk him out of it.
To me, that’s more Peter coping the best he can w/ a situation he feels he can’t change, if that makes sense. He feels powerless, and that doesn’t sit well, so he has to tell himself that this is right, keep his personal feelings out of the equation. Once they have a lead on what’s going on, he immediately starts working on it.
So no, I don’t think Peter believed it as completely as he claimed—I think esp in the conversation he had w/ Neal in prison he was hurt by what apparently happened and that’s why he’s so upset there, and then later he just felt like he had no choice by to force himself to ‘accept it,’ even if deep down he wanted to and did ultimately believe Neal.
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yueebby · 4 months
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4:36am – gojo satoru
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synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health 
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?
notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode!  this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).
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the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.
surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.
a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.
“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”
the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.
“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.” 
you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you. 
you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”
satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.” 
“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?” 
he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”
sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all. 
but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).
silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel. 
satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.
you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.
“at least take me out to dinner before~”
“shut it.”
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it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.
knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.
the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his. 
his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.
“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones. 
satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him,  “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”
your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.
“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.
you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”
gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.
sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.
he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”
“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.
his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!” 
“suguru’s.”
you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.
“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”
you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.
“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent. 
“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”
“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.
“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.
“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.
you stare at it blankly.
“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers. 
when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.
perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.
he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.
“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”
satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."
“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.
“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.
you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.
“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit. 
you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”
just like that, gojo comes back to life.
“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”
an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”
“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”
“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.
he nods fervently.
carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.
“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.
he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.
“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.
“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”
you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.
“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”
“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.
his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”
you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.
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extra notes
satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.
his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.
satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).
as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.
shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.
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rafeysdoll · 22 days
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Reader finding a little kitten somewhere and begging rafe to keep it ♡
i struggled soooo much with this request i have no idea why when i literally thought of something similar to this a few days ago >.<. i hope you enjoy it though, struggled the most with the ending ^_^
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“it’s reallll hot ray,” you comment rather obviously as rafe leads you down the street, making sure you stay on the side where cars don’t pass by placing his large hand at the small of your back, directing you. 
“know that baby, we’ll get you some water in a bit, alright?” he promises, making you nod compliantly, about to take another step before you hear a soft meow— your heart practically skipping a beat when you look down to find a small kitten besides your new baby pink heels. 
“oh my god!” you squeal, quickly reaching for the lovely animal, lips tugged into a bright big smile. 
before you can pick the kitty up, rafe grabs your wrist, pulling it back quickly. “could have rabies and shit, should know we don’t touch strays. it’s not hygienic, baby.”
you can only thrash your hands against him, melting as the kitten starts rubbing their head against your ankle, purring lightly. “ohhh, look how cute!!” you chirp, quickly grabbing the undomesticated kitten into your arms as soon as you escape rafe’s tight hold. 
“can’t just leave—” you pause, lifting the kitten up to examine the gender. “—her here! she’ll never survive the poor thing..” you sympathize, petting her soft fluffy fur.
rafe could only roll his eyes, shaking his head. 
“thought i told you not to touch it- her. probably has fleas and ticks crawling up all over her body.” he scolds, rubbing the side of his forehead in frustration. 
you don’t even pay much attention to him now, too distracted at the way the small kitten purrs and meows. “oh you’re just the cutest girl ever, aren’t you? what should we name you, hmm?” you ask the kitten as if she could speak back to you. 
“hey! ‘m talking to you, you hear me? d-don’t know why you’re talking ‘bout naming her. we’ll drop her off at a clinic but you should know we’re not bringing her home with us.” 
“w-what? but rafe! look at her.. she’s perfect. it has to be fate! she even came up to us! we can’t abandon her to random strangers,” you beg, hugging her close to your chest. 
“promise i’ll take care of feeding her and cleaning up after her, please let’s take her back home!” you continue, staring up at him with those wide and glossy doe eyes. 
he stays silent for awhile, chewing at the side of his cheek. “.. gotta promise me—,” 
“oh thank you!” you squeal, your eyes burning with what could only be happy tears. “i love you so muchhh!” you rant, kissing all over rafe’s cheek. 
you return back home with your new kitty, who you sweetly named, ‘luna’, as it so read in her shiny pink collar you and rafe picked out while she was receiving a proper de-flea treatment as well as a few necessary shots, rafe squeezing that time to remind you of all the things he wanted you to take care of with your new responsibility. 
and as as the night settled in and luna laid sound asleep in her soft bed, you dolled yourself up in the restroom—changing to a soft white lingerie set, approaching rafe with a cheeky smile. 
“think its time for me to give you your proper thank you, now.. right?” 
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vanteguccir · 2 months
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Left alone | Matt Sturniolo | part 2
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where the weight of Matt's actions gets the best of him, and he tries everything to receive his girl's forgiveness.
Warning: Fighting, cursing, crying, smut (mdni), slight praise kink. Angst with a happy ending!
Requested?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Part 1
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Matt sighed deeply as he parked his car at an abandoned gas station. He closed his eyes tightly as his index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his own nose. His body was completely tense, as if someone had thrown a sack of potatoes over his shoulders and hadn't removed it until now.
The boy reopened his eyes seconds later, looking vacantly at the pitch black surrounding him before seeing out of the corner of his eye his phone screen light up for the thousandth time, alerting him of a new notification. He picked up the device, unlocking it and scrolling through the notifications bar.
His heart seemed to stop pumping blood to his body instantly, his face taking on a pale color as he saw more than 20 new messages and thousands of missed voice calls coming from Chris.
His brain seemed to go on red alert as his mind screamed Y/N's name, and then he finally revisited the memory of what he did to his own girlfriend just over an hour ago, the smoky fog finally dissipating from behind his eyes.
Matt felt like his chest was burning while his heart accelerated strongly. His arms momentarily lost strength, almost dropping his phone.
His eyes flicked through the messages before tossing the device onto the passenger seat, turning the key in the ignition and driving back.
He stepped on the accelerator with full force, exceeding all permitted limits and passing all red lights. He knew he would wake up the next day with a new ticket - or several -, but that was his last concern at that moment.
His orbs were fixed on the road, his brow furrowed as his mind rattled off the words he threw at his girl, his precious girl. If he could, Matt would go back in time right then and there, so he wouldn't break his promise to never hurt and abandon her.
Matt turned his steering wheel abruptly when their house appeared on his eyesight, slamming the break in front of the garage door, wasting no time in parking correctly. His hands quickly unlocked the doors, throwing his body out of the driver's seat and slamming it behind him, the dull thud echoing through the lonely night.
The boy's hands shook as he fumbled for the front door key, cursing under his breath each time it seemed to slip through his fingers.
Finally, after a few long seconds, he was able to open it, closing it slowly so as not to wake Nick, not wanting to involve another person in his huge mistake.
His steps were quick down the stairs, stopping in front of the familiar white door. The boy took a deep breath before turning the handle, pushing it slightly.
Matt's eyes met Y/N quickly, pain hitting his heart like a stake at seeing her in such a vulnerable state; Her eyes - despite being closed - were swollen and her face was wet from the last tears she shed before falling asleep.
A rude sound caught his attention, his gaze meeting Chris's, who stood up from his chair abruptly. His eyes held a fury that Matt didn't remember ever seeing before, while his shoulders were tense with nervousness.
Before Matt could utter a word, Chris pulled the collar of his shirt, bringing his face closer to his own. Chris's nostrils were flared from his heavy breathing, hitting Matt's face.
"If Jimmy was here, you'd be dead. That's no way to treat a woman." Chris rasped, his voice low but full of anger. "Fix your mistakes, or I'll end you."
He pulled away, roughly letting go of Matt's shirt, watching him with his right eyebrow raised and crossed arms, waiting for his next move.
Matt swallowed hard, biting his bottom lip hard, feeling the sensation of crying rise through his veins. He quickly turned his back on Chris, walking over to his brother's bed with tentative steps.
His hands lightly pulled the duvet down, exposing the fragile body covered in the pink sweatshirt set. Matt hooked his arms under Y/N's neck and knees, pulling her up carefully, watching her eyes move beneath her eyelids quickly. A sign of a nightmare.
Matt hugged her closer to his body, walking past his brother with his head down in shame, leaving the room and going up the stairs slowly, not wanting to wake her with every movement of each step.
Upon arriving in their respective bedroom, the boy took her to the bed, placing her body gently on the soft mattress.
"M-Matty?" The fragile voice echoed like lightning in Matt's chest.
Matt sighed, closing his eyes tightly as he crouched down, getting into a squatting position. The boy rested his arms on the mattress, bringing his face slightly closer to hers, watching her eyes slowly open.
"You came back. I thought you left me." Y/N whispered, her lips trembling as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "Would you really leave me?"
Matt felt his heart being crushed by her words, his cheeks burning, as if he had been slapped. He swallowed hard, mentally calling himself every worst name possible.
"No, no, no, baby! I would never leave you-" He shook his head repeatedly, his brow furrowing in such a way that he was sure it would leave marks.
You already did.
"But... You said you'd stay forever, and then you left me out in the cold, alone." A sob escaped Y/N's lips, her weak body shaking incessantly. "What did I do? Why would you do that to me?"
Matt felt his own eyes filling with tears, blinking them quickly to ward off the tears. The boy bent over his girl, hugging her head gently, stroking her hair with his fingers.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love. I fucked up. Badly." An ugly sob escaped Matt's throat, cutting off his sentence. He closed his eyes tightly, the taste of his tears touching his tongue. "I love you so much, I'm so fucking sorry. I know that this doesn't change my actions, and trying to find a plausible explanation for why I acted that way won't erase what I did." His eyes travel across Y/N's features, seeing an ocean of hurt in her eyes. "If I could, I would go back and remake our day all over again."
He paused momentarily, swallowing hard.
"All the work we are getting with the 6 million and the new things on the channel has taken a toll on me. I missed you so much, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don't know what's gotten into me, I just got so upset because I wasn't seeing you as much as before. God, I was so selfish." Matt shook his head, biting his bottom lip hard. "I love you, and I never want to hurt you, not again. I was on the wrong, I fucked up with you."
His hands shook as they found her cheeks, caressing the wet skin.
"I'm so sorry." His voice now was a mere whisper, pain present in his tone.
"I-I understand. I also made a mistake, I should have warned you that I had to work overtime and... Give you space, I know I can be a lot sometimes. I never wanted you to come pick me up out of pity or obligation-"
Matt shook his head repeatedly, silencing her by guiding her head slightly so that she looked him in the eyes. His fingers working to brush the loose hair from her face.
"Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. I love taking care of you as I take you to work and pick you up... It was my fault. I was an asshole, a terrible boyfriend, I- fuck..." He presses his lips into a thin line, stopping the sob that was about to come out. "I left you alone, what the hell was I thinking?"
"It's okay." Y/N whispers, lowering her eyes to the mattress, feeling her chest burn in pain from seeing him so distressed.
"Shh, no. It isn't okay." Matt denies it, his fingers touching Y/N's chin lightly, forcing her to look at him again. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness." He was pleading with his eyes for her to understand that she was not the one to be blamed.
Y/N nods while sniffling, closing her eyes as she feels her fingers caress her face as if she were made of porcelain.
"I love you. So much." Matt says. His hands cup her face, bringing his own closer, touching their noses in an eskimo kiss. "I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeated it like a mantra, sighing when he felt his girlfriend's ragged breaths so close to his. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry."
Their faces were equally wet with tears.
"It's okay, I'll forgive you at some point. Just... Don't ever do it again. Please." Y/N plead in a vulnerable whisper, half opening her eyes, before closing them again as she feels Matt's lips caress hers.
"Never, I'll never do anything like that again. I promise. I'll take care of you forever." He assured, nodding his head. "What can I do? How... What can I do to make you forgive me?" His tone was full of despair.
Y/N pondered momentarily, her heart beating heavily in her chest. Her hands snaked across the duvet until they reached Matt's wrists, wrapping her fingers gently around them. She pushed her head forward, lightly bumping her nose against his, touching their lips almost imperceptibly.
"Make love with me. Show me how sorry you are. Show me how much you love me, Matt. Please." She begged softly, her eyelashes caressing her cheeks as her eyelids fluttered, hiding her orbs.
Matt felt his breathing stop, his mind seeming to process what she asked. He curved his spine higher up the mattress, sealing his lips on Y/N's quickly, before pulling away, but not enough to lose the warmth of his face against his own.
"Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage of your vulnerability." His tone, despite being anxious, had hints of hesitation, not wanting to invade his girl's space after such a traumatic event.
"Please, Matty. I need to feel you. I need you to love me." Thick tears rolled down Y/N's cheeks, her tone full of anguish and lust, a strange mix, but one that matched perfectly at that moment.
Matt didn't blink, pushing himself up off the floor before kneeling on the mattress, helping Y/N lift her upper body.
He rested his right hand on the bed while his left one gently held his girl's jaw, as if she was made of glass and could break at any moment.
The boy brought his face closer to hers again, taking her lips in an intense kiss. His blue eyes closed at the sensation, his warm tongue caressing Y/N's bottom lip, asking for entry, which was quickly granted.
Their tongues started a beautiful dance, the taste of tears mixed with saliva. Whimpers escaped Y/N's throat, her hands flying to the back of Matt's neck, lightly tugging at the curly strands.
Matt moved nimbly onto the duvet, kneeling between his girl's legs and using both of his hands to guide her down, squeezing the spot below her breasts, just above her ribs, so that her back lay against the mattress again.
He bent his torso over Y/N's chest, keeping his weight supported on his right hand while his left one caressed her cheek, never once breaking the kiss.
Y/N snaked her hands around Matt's shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles caused by his position, desperate for contact.
Her fingers went down her boyfriend's abdomen like warm water, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up slowly. Matt broke the kiss for a second, allowing her to pull the piece of clothing off his body.
His large hands worked on ripping off Y/N's hoodie gently, admiring every bit of her exposed skin, and mentally thanking her for being braless.
He dropped the heavy piece to the floor, lowering his spine again and sealing her lips, their tongues now in a slower pace, pain giving way to love.
Matt ran his right hand down Y/N's breasts, caressing her nipples just momentarily, before moving further down, trailing his fingertips across her stomach and navel, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
He touched the waistband of her sweatpants lightly, breaking the kiss momentarily to draw in air, which filled his lungs like water on dry ground. His eyes wandered over the girl's hopeful expression, taking that as a go-ahead.
Y/N lifted her head from the mattress slightly, pressing their mouths together again, craving the contact.
Matt smiled against her sensitive lips, finally running his hand through the layers of clothes, moving down until he found Y/N's pleasure point.
His fingers rubbed circles around the already swollen clit, receiving nasal sighs from the girl below him, who raised her hips in search of more contact.
He took his fingers further down, slipping a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move better. He gathers a bit of it before slowly introducing two digits.
Matt pulled his lips away from Y/N, his blue eyes traveling over her features contorted in pleasure as she felt his long fingers going deep inside her. He felt like he could admire her like that forever; cheeks flushed from all the crying and pleasure, mouth slightly open - from where gasps and sighs escaped -, brow furrowed and eyes closed.
That was his private paradise.
"Matt, please." Her voice came out in a faint whisper, a silent plea for more.
The boy didn't take long, lifting himself onto the mattress to have greater access, dragging the sweatpants and panties down his girl's legs slowly, not wanting to hurt or rush her.
He removed his own pants and boxers, returning to his initial position between his girlfriend's legs. Matt lowered his torso, spreading small, wet seals across her belly toward her breasts.
His hands gently held Y/N's heels, pushing them so that she bent her knees and placed the soles of her feet on the mattress, opening her legs wider.
A breathy moan escaped the girl's lips as Matt gently kissed one of her nipples, the slightly chilled air of the room hitting the saliva on her hot skin, goosebumps rising through her body as a result.
"Is it good, baby? I'm making you feel good, hm?" Matt questions knowingly. "Y'so pretty. Even when you cry. My pretty girl."
He stroked the skin between the valley of her breasts with the tip of his nose, before moving up further, managing to see Y/N nod her head repeatedly in response, her cheeks wet from her tears.
Matt pressed his forehead to hers, their heavy breaths mixing as he looked down momentarily, taking his cock in his right hand, pumping it a few times, a wince escaping his lips at the sensation.
His blue eyes met hers, silently asking if he could continue. In response, Y/N's right hand snaked up his torso towards the small of his back, pressing down lightly, while her left hand squeezed the biceps of his occupied one.
Matt lowered his hips, brushing his red tip between her folds. He moved his hips gently, slowly pushing into her. A unison moan escaped both of their lips, Y/N closing her eyes tightly at the feeling of invasion while Matt kept his open, taking note of her every expression.
The boy eventually started picking up his pace, going with slow and shallow thrusts, sighs escaping his mouth, accompanied by breathy moans from Y/N.
"Matt- Oh." Her mouth opened in a perfect O as she felt Matt hit a specific spot inside her that made her see stars. "D-don't stop. Please."
"I won't, my love. I'll never let you go. Never again." Matt promised, his hips moving to deepen his thrusts.
Tears fell from Y/N's eyes due to the overwhelming sensations, the weight of the previous events still hurting in her heart, mixing with the immense pleasure that the boy was presenting her.
Matt sealed each of her tears with his lips, whispering sweet nothings and little apologies, along with huge declarations of love.
A sob escaped Y/N's mouth, her teeth working to clamp down on her lower lip in an attempt to stop the loud, ugly sounds from keep escaping.
"Hey, hey, sweet girl. I'm here for you. You're so important, the best girl out there. I love you so much... M'so sorry." He murmured against her lips lightly, his own heart aching with each tear that fell her pretty eyes. "Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?"
"N-no, please. I need you, I need to feel you." Y/N responded desperately, shaking her head, lifting her head off the mattress and sealing their lips in a messy kiss.
"It's okay, it's alright." Matt responded gently against her mouth. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."
His movements never stopped, Matt alternated the rhythm between slow and deep, reaching places inside Y/N never reached before, feeling her hot, spongy walls pressing him into a delicious tightness.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Y/N moaned against Matt's chin, their faces moving messily against each other from the now faster movements. "P-please." She cried.
"I love you so much, so fucking much." Matt panted back, fucking her with a little more urgency, chasing her and his own orgasm.
It didn't take more than five thrusts, and Y/N felt her entire body tremble, her legs instinctively wanting to close - being blocked by Matt's hips - while her belly contracted. Her chest rose slightly from the mattress as her spine arched from the intense pleasure that hit her.
Her eyes saw little stars as she rolled them tightly, Matt's name escaping her lips like a mantra.
The sight and feeling of his girl's body shaking against his brought Matt's orgasm to the surface, hitting him hard. A moan escaped his throat as he buried himself deep inside her pussy, feeling his cock throbbing against the walls that seemed to want to crush him.
Matt pressed his nose against Y/N's cheek, breathing in her scent as he felt the sensations of his orgasm slowly subside.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Y/N whispered, still in a post-orgasm trance, her eyes closed and her breathing ragged, her legs still having small spasms.
Matt kept his eyes fixed on her face, watching her come down slowly, rubbing his thumbs on her hipbones to ground her.
"Y'with me, babe? S'all for you, my love. Always." Matt slurred, pressing his lips against his girl's warm, flushed cheek. His left hand went up her body to her face, wiping away the traces of tears. "I'm so sorry, petal." He asked again, his chest still aching.
"S'okay, I forgive you." She nodded, kissing his left shoulder lightly, her eyes heavy with sleep from exhaustion and excessive crying.
"I'm going to fill the bathtub and give you a relaxing bath, okay? M'gonna take care of you, sweet girl." Matt spoke softly, moving his hips slowly, taking his cock out of her, receiving a small sound of discomfort in response. "Shh. I know baby, I know." He whispered. "I'm gonna grab some snacks from the kitchen, so you can eat while I wash your body. How does that sound, pretty girl? Hm?"
"S'good. Please." Her voice came out in an almost incomprehensible whisper, her eyelids serving as curtains for her heavy eyes. She could feel her head floaty and her heart beating in a rhythmic rhythm, her skin warm with euphoria.
Matt sealed her forehead with his lips for long seconds, closing his eyes and breathing in the natural scent of Y/N's skin.
He still felt the guilt eating him alive, promising himself he would never again let his emotions get the best of him. He would take care of her, his best girl.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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eilidh-eternal · 4 months
Text
Ok, I need to get into a fluffy mindset to write for Johnny and Simon so here’s some poly!bluecollar!141
Contractor 141 with reader who’s hired them to do the renovations on your house/business and you insist on bringing the guys like, drinks and sandwich platters each time you drop by to check on the progress. The whole thing is terribly behind schedule because every time you stop by with little gifts for the crew they ask if you wanna learn how to level concrete, how to frame a wall, how to dry wall. You always say yes, always want to learn a new skill to make yourself more marketable. And they love the excuse to be a little touchy with you, to stand chest to back with you and show you how to use the table saw, to keep a steadying hand on the small of your back when you climb up the ladder to mud the drywall after it’s been hung.
The sight of you, this white collar worker who never has a hair out of place, is always so perfectly put together and speaks to them with the confidence of every project manager they’ve ever worked with, is getting down and dirty with them and using all the power tools so confidently, and it just gets them all so fucking hard…
you guys know where this is going. The build is a good 6 months behind schedule, maybe a year, because your original design plans aren’t big enough for you and the four of them.
The shower definitely needs expanding and you need a much bigger bathtub—they’re big guys, love. And the fridge you picked out? Forget it, you’re gonna need a commercial grade fridge and freezer to keep enough food on hand for your big hard working boys. But don’t worry, John will have custom cabinetry done so you can still get that integrated look with all the appliances. Simon goes with you to pick out the bed and furniture because poor baby has the worst back out of all of them and needs an extra firm mattress, and he’s the tallest and you would feel just awful if things aren’t big enough for him. Gaz and Soap both go with you to pick out paint colors, counter tops, all the different tile and flooring, and all the pretty detailed things, taking notes and making sure that they have or can get their hands on all the tools and materials necessary to bring your vision to life.
And you best believe all four of them are carrying you across the threshold when it’s done, that they’ve had everything all assembled and put together and ready for you to christen every surface, every piece of furniture, in your new house with your boys.
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yandere-daydreams · 5 months
Text
Title: Bedside Manner.
Pairing: Yan!Doctor!Gojo x Reader x Yan!Nurse!Geto (JJK).
Word Count: 2.9k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Sex Toys, Could Be Read As A Geto Stayed AU But It's Funnier If You Don't, Bondage, Improper Use of Cum, A Brief Blowjob Aside, Overstimulation, Unprotected Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Slight Dom/Sub Dynamics, and Medical Malpractice.
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“The patient should be waking up any second now, doctor.”
You stirred at the sound of Geto’s voice, groaning as you blinked away harsh, colorless light. The room around you came into focus slowly; your bleary eyes scanning over four blank walls and sterile titanium cabinets, only lingering momentarily on the tool-crowded trays latched onto either side of the metallic examination table you’d been laid across before moving to the doorway. Gojo was stepping across the threshold, wearing what you could only describe as a child’s idea of how a general practitioner might’ve dressed. His blindfold was gone, replaced with a pair of thin-rimmed shades he wore low on the bridge of his nose, and his uniform had been swapped out for a fitted button-up and a long, unwrinkled lab coat. An authentic-enough stethoscope had been strung around his neck, latex gloves pulled over his hands, but he hadn’t bothered to write anything on the paper held by the clipboard tucked under his arm, and his tie was left loose and undone in his collar. If you saw him in an actual hospital, you might’ve hesitated before asking to see his medical license. Might’ve.
Geto entered behind him, hands clasped behind his back and hair pulled into a loose bun. Your gaze dipped below his collar and your brain immediately short-circuited.
You couldn’t remember ever seeing a skirt that short in a… well, you couldn’t remember ever seeing a skirt that short anywhere.
Unlike Gojo, he’d clearly gotten his costume out of the darkest corner of the sketchiest store he could find. It might’ve been able to pass for a nurse’s uniform, had it not been for the fishnets stretched over his toned legs, the skin-tight skirt that ended well below his mid-thigh, the plunging neckline framed on either side by a pressed white collar. As you gawked, he caught your eye, a pointed grin tugging at the corners of his red lips. “Doctor,”he practically purred the title, bringing his hands up to Gojo’s shoulders. “It seems the patient is in a state of shock! Oh, no, what are you going to do?”
What his costume lacked, Gojo made up for with his acting. “There’s nothing to worry about.” His voice was artificially deep, his tone low and gravelly. “You’re both in good hands. I specialize in cases like this – needy young things neglected for far too long.” He clicked his tongue, flicking his glasses on top of his head. “Why don’t you prepare the patient, nurse?”
At that, your expression dropped. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today, guys.” You threw your legs over the side of the table, your scowl deepening as you glanced down and found that your clothes had been replaced with a nearly transparent hospital gown. Geto appeared behind you as you moved to stand, his fist curling around your wrist, but you shook him off. “Where are we? If swear, if I find out you cleared out an actual hospital for the sake of your shitty roleplay, I’ll—"
“Doctor,” Geto crooned again, “The patient seems to be hysterical. It’s driven them to delusion!”
His hands clapped over your shoulders. With that terrible grin still plastered across his lips, he slammed you down against the metal table and ignored your attempts to thrash against his hold. Gojo gasped, throwing his blank clipboard to the ground as he rushed to slap a hand over his mouth. “Their condition must be worse than we thought. If we don’t act now, we might lose them for good.”
Geto’s hold tightened. “Do you think it’s come to that, doctor?”
There was a beat of silence. Eventually, Gojo replied, “Yes. That.”
Geto let out a deep breath, his grin faltering. “The toys, Satoru.”
Immediately, he perked up, striding confidently to the foot of your bed. “Their treatment, you mean.” He reached towards one of the trays latched to your cot and, this time, you noticed that they weren’t housing tools, but an almost impressive collection of toys; bullets and wands of as many sizes and colors as you could imagine lined up in neat rows between bottles of lube and textured silicone monstrosities. After a second of thought, he chose a ribbed, hot pink rabbit vibrator, the insert just a little too big not to send a pang of dread to the pit of your stomach.
You scratched at Geto’s wrists and, when he failed to budge, let out a long, wordless scream – punctuated by a frustrated growl as you kicked toward Gojo. “If you so much as thick about touching me with that, I’ll—”
“Hysterical, like you said. If left untreated, it’ll progress into constant agitation, or worse – sexual repulsion.” He paused, slipped two gloved fingers into his mouth. A wet, slick sound filled the cramped space. By the time he pulled away, a string of spit stretched between his fingertips and his lips; only broken as his hand fell to your cunt. “Of course, proper preparation is necessary. We wouldn’t be able to call ourselves professionals if we didn’t take care of our patients, would we, nurse?”
Geto shook his head dutifully as Gojo spread the lips of your pussy apart, his haphazardly lubricated fingers thrusting into your entrance. They must’ve already done something to you in your sleep. Your body offered no resistance as he spread his fingers apart inside of you, slight discomfort turning to reluctant pleasure too quickly to be the first time they’d stretched open your body that day. He curled his fingers and you jerked against Geto’s hold, your hips bucking upward and earning a click of his tongue, a more pitying shake of his head. “Unruly patients have to be restrained.”
You opened your mouth, bracing yourself to ask what that was supposed to mean, but anything you might’ve said was replaced with a sharp whimper as his attention moved to your wrists – catching them in one hand while the other began to fiddle with something at the head of the table. You felt it more than you saw it; thick and leathery, looped once around your wrists and pulled tight, binding your hands above your head. Now freed, his own touch drifted to the collar of your gown, then lower, cupping the curves of your chest through the papery material and squeezing harshly. His thumbs swiped over your nipples while Gojo’s fingers ground against something soft and sensitive inside of you and stuck between the two of them, you shrunk into yourself, shutting your eyes as little whines and hitched moans escaped your treacherous lips.
Your pathetic resistance was met with an airy chuckle, a mouth pressed against your collarbone as Geto bent at the waist. “What a lucky little thing you are – to have such a skilled doctor looking after you.” His breath fanned over your skin and, as if to prove his point, Gojo forced another finger into your now slick-soaked cunt, pumping all three into you at a brutal, breaking pace. Bucking against him wasn’t an act of rebellion, this time, but a necessity; a choice your body made on your behalf. You didn’t want to, but you would’ve done anything to loosen the vice-tight coil in your core, the cool the pure warmth flooding through your veins. “You’ll show him how thankful you are for such thorough treatment, won’t you?”
Willing or otherwise, you would have to. You could feel your body starting to stiffen, your pussy clenching around his fingers as something deep inside of youbegan to smolder. The heel of Gojo’s palm ground against your clit and you moaned shamelessly, struggling not to clench your thighs shut as—
—as Gojo drew back, leaving you empty and quickly coming down from your near-high. There was a twinge of disappointment, but any relief your better judgement might’ve been able to summon was quickly smothered and suffocated as Gojo, color-bleached hair falling over his eyes, thrust his chosen vibrator into your vulnerable pussy and switched it on.
It wasn’t a question of when you would break, but how quickly. It only took a few seconds under the harsh vibrations being pumped into your clit, of enduring the way the bulbed insert pumped and ground against the walls of your cunt for you to crack. “Take it out,” you begged, spreading your legs involuntarily. “Take it out, turn it off, please, I—”
“That’s just your condition talking. You’re looking better already,” Geto cooed, his arm snaking around your neck and drawing you flat against the examination table. “Good patients take their treatment with a smile.”
“Helpful as always, nurse.” Gojo flattened one hand against your lower stomach, using the other to keep his vibrator in place despite your body’s convulsions. “But you don’t need to be so harsh. Look – it’s already taking effect.”
He was right. He was right and you hated him for it. You could feel yourself clenching around the length of his insert, your back threatening to arch off the examination table as you came around his toy. Climax provided no reprieve, though. Gojo only hummed, his thumb pressing into a silver button on the vibrator’s base. In an instant, the vibrations grew stronger, the aching pleasure being forced onto your body more savage. As you fought not to come undone for the second time in seconds, Gojo’s eyes flickered to Geto. “I think it’s about time we started on the patient’s medicine.”
Geto didn’t protest. He pressed a lingering kiss into the curve of your neck before straightening his back and climbing onto the examination table with you; a knee planted snuggly on either side of your head, giving you a view under his skirt too perfectly posed not to be deliberate. The costume was worse than you could’ve possibly imagined. Black garter belts hugged his muscular thighs, a stark departure in tone and style from the silken ivory panties barely covering his thick cock. He was already painfully hard – the outline of his length showing through the thin material, the tip leaking enough arousal to render both his panties and the cheap fabric of his skirt transparent.
He bent down and Gojo rose to meet him, propping one knee on the edge of the table as Geto undid his belt and shrugged down his dress pants, freeing Gojo’s cock. He let out a raspy groan as Geto’s painted lips ghosted over his flushed tip, as he ran his broad tongue running over the underside of Gojo’s cock before taking it into his mouth. You tried to look away, to focus on something that wasn’t one of them or the vibrator pulsing in your cunt, but its mechanical pattern was just jarring enough to keep you grounded in reality and they were so fucking loud, Geto’s noisy swallows and stifled moans always met with Gojo’s praise. The bright blue of his gloves stood out against Geto’s dark hair like lightning against a storm, the shape of his cock visible against the column of Geto’s throat as he swallowed Gojo down. Drool pooled at the corners of his mouth, smearing his lipstick and dripping down to his chin as he bobbed his head in-time with Gojo’s idle thrusts. As you were nudged closer to your second climax, Geto worked Gojo towards his first; his already erratic pace growing more frenzied. His eyes fell shut, Geto’s name slipping past his lips – cut short by a hitched breath as he rutted into Geto’s mouth.
You forced yourself to look away as Geto choked him through his high, but it didn’t matter. Burning white blotted out your vision as his vibrator forced you over the ledge, sending another wave of blissful agony coursing through hyper-sensitive body. It seemed to hold you in that state of euphoric paralysis for minutes – your eyes glazed over and unfocused, your legs twitching and your cunt clenching around the bulbed insert. Gojo’s airy chuckle was the only thing that stopped you from spiraling completely. The vibrator was switched off and removed unceremoniously, Geto helped down from the examination table with a muffled whine of protest. Gojo’s hands curled around your ankles, dragging you downward until your legs hung over the table’s blunt edge and Geto could position himself between your twitching thighs. Exhausted and limp, you could only shake your head and whimper as Gojo’s hands slipped under Geto’s skirt, hiking the fabric up to his waist and tearing away his panties entirely. With his chin propped on Geto’s shoulder, his hand panted on Geto’s hip, he wrapped his fist around Geto’s cock and lined his leaking tip up with your dripping entrance. Geto, with a pursed-lipped frown and eyes blown just a little too wide to sell the doe-like innocence he was aiming for, paid Gojo a hesitant glance, but Gojo clicked his tongue, pressing his chest into Geto’s back with the practiced steadiness of a decade-long mentor. “Don’t be shy, nurse.” He slotted his lip against Geto’s ass. “Someone’s still waiting for their medicine.”
His assurance was kind, but unnecessary; Geto couldn’t play coy for very long. Wordlessly, he thrust into you, bottoming out in a single stroke.
Gojo was still there, providing a steadying hand, but what little self-restraint Geto had snapped the moment he felt your cunt clamp around him. While you recoiled, your body attempting to escape his hostile affection before your mind could realize it was futile, he groaned and lurched into you, never satisfied unless he could be buried as deeply inside of you as possible. A hand shot up – taking hold of your jaw and prying your grit teeth apart as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was open-mouthed and rough, his tongue lashing out to force something warm and bitter into your mouth. You begged yourself not to put a name to the substance he was practically tongue-fucking down your throat, but tears still managed to blur your hazy vision, overstimulation and humiliation turning every sensation sharp and invasive. What was left of your limited strength was poured into writhing and thrashing underneath him, but that only seemed to spur Geto on, to let him fuck into your cunt with that much more force, to make the sound of his skin slapping against yours that much more unbearable. Gojo didn’t help, but he didn’t stop him, either. He kept his hands on Geto’s waist, kept that shit-eating grin plastered across his lips as he watched Geto fuck into you like a wild animal, let out of its cage for the very first time.
Your third and last climax was almost pathetically weak; your body wrung dry and your nerves burnt to nothing. Your final moan came out hoarse and stunted, your form going limp underneath him, and yet, it was enough to tip Geto over the edge, to leave him grunting as he pressed his hips flush to yours and filled your cunt with something so, so much worse than the stale cum he made you swallow. At least that, you’d been able to ignore, to reject. The feeling of pure heat dripping down the inside of your thighs as he stilled against you wasn’t as easy to block out.
He lingered on top of you, his breath ragged and his face buried in the side of your neck. Gojo was the one to break the stillness, predictably, letting out a pitchy whine as he threw himself onto fGeto. “You looked so hot.” He drew the final word out for a second too long, his voice cracking on the final note. “You looked hot and I couldn’t say anything because I had to stay in character but all I wanted to do was put my di—"
“Later, Satoru.” With a groan, Geto straightened his back, taking Gojo with him as he pried himself away from you. The leather strap around your wrists was pulled loose, and he helped you sit up-right, your legs still dangling over the side of the examination table. His cum stained the inside of your thighs, the hospital gown they’d dressed you in hanging wrinkled and ragged from your shoulders. Geto let out a soft coo as he looked over you, his acting only slightly more believable than it’d been a few minutes ago. “I’ll get you cleaned up while Satoru takes care of mess. We’ll get you back home after that, alright?”
You let your head lull forward. It was your turn to bury your face in his chest, now, to huff as Gojo changed tactics – positioning himself behind you and nuzzling into the nape of your neck. “I hate you two.” You spared a fleeting glance to either side. “Where are we? This doesn’t look like any of Shoko’s labs.”
A beat of silence lapsed between the two of them. Finally, Gojo chimed in. “That would’ve saved us a lot of time, huh, Suguru?”
Immediately, you stiffened. “This cannot be a real—”
Geto pressed a kiss into your forehead. “It’s nothing worth worrying your pretty little head over, sweetheart.”
“There’s not even a law for—”
“Doctor,” Geto called, speaking over you. “Your patient’s getting riled up, again.”
You jolted, but didn’t have time to get away. Gojo was already pressing himself against you, his hand slipping between your thighs as his grin bit into the side of your throat.
“You can leave this one to me, nurse.”
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satoruzlove · 5 months
Text
please consider.. whiny bf satoru🤲🤲
he has not spoken to you for two hours. arms crossed, legs kicking back and forth on the floor as he faces the wall. those big, doe blue eyes covered by an awning of white, fluffy lashes refuse to meet yours and you are sure that you’re going to develop gray hairs before your time because of him.
“i said i was sorry,” you try, hand on his shoulder. he glances at you, pretty pink lips pulled into a sweet pout as he blinks down at you. under his gaze you even feel stupid for trying to reason with a man child.
“i didn’t forgive you.” he states plainly, although practically melting into your palms and leaning back into you. smiling, your arms make an attempt to wrap around his broad shoulders and bring you into him. it works, of course, he plunks into your warmth with a soft groan. suddenly, his nose is buried into your nape and he’s taking deep breaths. “how could you?” satoru ponders aloud. you exhale a laugh.
“baby,” you breathe in readiness to speak. although, satoru thinks he could melt at your tender tone. he looks up at you from his space at your collar bone, pressing a sloppy kiss to it. “ nuh uh,” he tuts, and you giggle at his childish expression. he looks like a kicked puppy.
“all i did was call you your legal name !” you whispered yell. satoru feigns a pained groan, leaning even more of his weight into you. a palm over his forehead, “ i can’t believe this. that is not my name to you. my name is baby.” he persists. “ ba-by.” your boyfriend emphasises, by poking either cheek between syllables. you cackle, pressing your cheek into his as a small warmth grows on his face. you feel his dimple imprint onto your cheek, and before you know it he’s pressing your shoulders down so you could be deeply pressed into the bed.he looks you over. the sparkle of your eyes , the way your clothes hang loosely over your figure- the quirk of embarrassment in your lips. the man feels himself blush at the mere sight of you. someone so undeniably his.
youve won. he knows you have by the way you’re looking at him. satoru can’t stay mad at a face like that, especially not when it’s a face he’s grown to call home.
“i love you.” satoru proclaims with a proud smile.
“i love you too, satoru.” you say with an even bigger grin.
“stop itt!”
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