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♡ thigh riding with kakashi - kinktober 2023 ♡

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨ 18+ | minors dni ୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

summary: you and kakashi are helping obito move. when his van is too full, you have to sit on kakashi's lap on the drive to obito's new place. too bad obito is a horrible driver, and the road to the apartment is much rougher than you remembered. kakashi x reader. college au.

word count: 2452

content warnings: thigh riding, slight exhibitionism, cumming in pants, sexual acts in a van, embarrassment and humiliation mentioned in reader's thoughts, afab!reader (pronouns not mentioned)

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨ nsfw below the cut ୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

“Obito, there’s no room for me to sit.” 

He craned his neck around from his position in the driver's seat to examine your dilemma. You were right: there really wasn’t any room for you in the van. Kakashi was already squeezed into the only empty seat, and every other seat was occupied by whatever the fuck Obito insisted on moving from his dorm to his apartment. 

“Just sit on Bakashi’s lap,” he shrugged, already annoyed and tired from packing all day. He could barely see Kakashi’s hair over the TV that took up most of the middle row of seats, so Obito didn’t notice Kakashi flipping him off as he rolled his eyes. Despite your sour mood and sore muscles, you still managed to giggle at the sight of Kakashi being annoyed enough to give Obito any sort of reaction.

 You also giggled to hide your nerves, because the thought of sitting on Kakashi’s lap made you shiver with excitement, which was not what you needed right now. 

Mind over matter, you told yourself as you climbed into the beat-up van. Kakashi did his best to help guide you into the most comfortable, least intimate seating position for you both, which was you straddling one of his thighs and leaning forward against the seat in front of you. Was it comfortable? Fuck no; your back was already hurting from carrying boxes to the van all day. But any excuse to be this close to Kakashi was nothing to complain about, so you made yourself as comfortable as you could while Obito pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Sorry for squishing you,” you offered to him, turning your head just barely enough so you could speak to him. You caught a glimpse of him, and he looked uncomfortable, which made you feel even worse. “Just let me know if I need to move and I’ll do my best.” 

“Maa, you’re not squishing me,” he assured, adjusting his leg beneath you. The pressure against your core was noticeable and a tingle worked its way up your spine, causing you to blush. 

God, it had been far too long since you’d gotten off. Casual hookups weren’t your thing, and the last friend with benefits you had ended things because he caught feelings, so you’d been self-reliant for at least a year now. Your toys always did the job, but you wished a certain white-haired best friend of yours would do the job for you. 

Too bad he’d never be interested in someone like you. 

You lost yourself in thought, ignoring the feeling of Kakashi’s thigh between your legs, and focused intently on the song playing from the vans’ speakers. 

That is, until Obito hit the giant fucking pothole he always hit, despite it being in the same spot for months, causing Kakashi’s thigh to put some delicious friction directly against your clit. 

The noise you let out was definitely a moan. There was no doubt about it to you. Thank god it sounded more like a yelp of surprise and pain to Kakashi, but that didn’t stop you from blushing profusely.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning forward and gently brushing your thigh with his fingertips. There was concern laced in his words, which would have melted you at literally any other point in time; now, it was just making your current predicament worse, because you were imagining his fingertips doing something completely different.

You gripped the seat in front of you hard, nodding your head while refusing to look at him. 

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” you stuttered, your voice a pitch higher than normal. “The bump just startled me.” You knew he could tell you were lying, but this was not the time to discuss it. Not when you were straddling his thigh and so close to his cock. 

“Well if it gets too uncomfortable, please let me know so we can switch positions,” Kakashi offered as he squeezed your hip before letting it go. 

Your pussy was determined to betray you. His kind words, the double meaning of “switching positions” that had you thinking of riding him until you collapsed from exhaustion, and the tickle of his fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your hips had you clenching around nothing. 

You nodded again and leaned your head against the seat in front of you, willing your body to stop reacting to Kakashi’s body being so close to yours. The very back row of Obito’s van was the least smooth area to sit, so the vibrations were amplified, which had you white-knuckling the headrest in front of you and gritting your teeth. And of course, Obito was not a good driver, so the amount of bumps and jolts the van made only made you wetter and more horny and the most mortified you’ve ever been in your life.

“How you holding up back there?”

Obito’s words brought you back to reality. You’d been dissociating to forget about your current predicament, so you didn’t know how long you’d been on the road. 

“How much longer?” you groaned, craning your neck to see over the TV that blocked you from Obito’s view. 

He glanced at you in the rear view mirror and wiggled his eyebrows at you, which only meant one thing: he did this on purpose. That fucker. He knew you had a crush on Kakashi that you’d never do anything about, and he was always trying some stupidly concocted plan to get you two together. 

“Only about fifteen more minutes,” he sighed, winking at you before fixing his eyes back on the road. 

You groaned and let your head fall forward against the seat in front of you again. This was the horniest you had ever felt in your life. Your clit craved stimulation. The ache between your thighs had moved from annoying to downright uncomfortable. You were going to kill Obito after this. 

“You look uncomfortable. You can scoot back a little if that would help,” Kakashi offered, placing his hand on your hip again. His voice had a husky undertone to it, and for a brief, delusional moment, you wondered if he was as flustered as you, but quickly shooed the thought from your mind before you responded. 

“Yeah, I think that might help,” you admitted. Your back really was hurting from sitting like a cooked shrimp to avoid leaning back against Kakashi.  You were already in this situation and still had to help Obito unload everything, so there was no sense in making yourself suffer any more. 

Kakashi placed his other hand on your other hip and guided you further back on his thigh, closer to his body, and that’s when you felt it. Your arousal had soaked through your panties and your thin leggings, and the cold air hitting the wet spot sent a chill up your spine. 

Fuck. 

“Is that better?” he asked. Your voice was going to give you away, so instead of responding verbally, you just nodded without facing him. 

“Are you sure?” he pressed, tightening his grip ever so slightly on your hips. God damn it, you were going to have to answer out loud anyways. 

“Ye-“ you started to say, but Kakashi shifted under you to make himself more comfortable, and you whined. His muscular thigh pressed against your clit when he shifted and you couldn’t help the noise that escaped. 

His grip on your hips tightened, and you could’ve sworn you heard a groan rumble in his chest as he breathed. 

“Sorry, yeah. I’m sure,” you said shakily, absolutely mortified. You really considered asking Obito to just pull over so you could walk back to your apartment and scream into your pillow. Up until now, you were just suffering in silence, but Kakashi, the boy you’d been in love with for the last four years of college, heard you whimper when his thigh pressed against your pussy. There was no coming back from that. 

Kakashi let go of your hips and didn’t say anything, only leaned back against the seat and breathed deeply. 

Great. He was upset with you for being horny. You’d ruined any sort of chance of ever being with him at this point. 

As you were mentally chastising yourself, Obito hit yet another bump in the road. You were clenching your jaw so hard you thankfully didn’t react, but you weren’t prepared to hear Kakashi whisper “fuck” under his breath as you involuntarily slid backwards just slightly. You knew what caused the reaction too: your ass was now pressing against his semi-hard cock. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, grimacing to yourself. This was now the worst case scenario and you felt horrible for putting him in this position. “Help me scoot back up.” 

But his hands found their way back to your hips again, keeping you from moving away from him. 

“Please don’t.” 

You thought he was messing with you. There was no way he just said that. Was this a part of Obito’s sick plan? Did he convince Kakashi to go along with this, to make you think Kakashi liked you? This was a new low for Obito. You’d always joked around with each other, but never like this, and never with Kakashi. 

You turned around to tell him not to joke like that, but you’re met with an unexpected sight: Kakashi, cheeks flushed, breath labored, looking like he’s seconds away from cumming in his pants. 

“W-what?” you asked, completely caught off guard by his demeanor. He was always collected, so seeing him begging you to keep your ass pressed against his crotch couldn’t compute in your brain. 

“I’m so s-sorry. Just pl-“ he was cut off by another bump in the road, causing him to curse and squeeze your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. “Shit. Just please keep pressing against me like that. God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

His pathetic pleading went straight to your core, and you couldn’t help but roll your hips to chase the feeling you’d been fighting this whole drive. You gripped his knee for stability and paused, your heart racing and brain foggy from your lust-fueled haze. 

After several deep breaths and a sliver of mental clarity, you whipped your head back around to check in the rearview mirror, making sure Obito couldn’t see you when you lowered your head. The music was loud enough that he couldn’t hear you two, and the TV was shielding you and the lewd acts you were about to commit. After your thorough examination of the situation and making sure you had whatever sad excuse for privacy you could call this, you slowly ground your pussy into his thigh again, causing you both to gasp. 

“Is this what you want?” you breathed before you ground your hips down over and over in the same spot, pressing your ass against his cock every time you did. “Fuck, Kashi. This feels so good.” 

The shame you felt was immeasurable. Here you were, rubbing your clit on your best friend's thigh in the back of a car. Your face felt hot from embarrassment and arousal. Stopping this would probably save you at least some fraction of dignity, but you didn't care. Your body was in control now, and it was chasing a high you'd been craving for years.

“D-don’t say things like that,” he begged, digging his fingers into your plush hips. His voice sounded so ruined, a stark contrast to his usual controlled manner of speech. You desperately wished you were facing him so you could stare at his beautiful face and watch the whimpers fall from his mouth. “We shouldn’t even be doing this.”

You knew the letdown would happen sooner or later. It was just inevitable. You also knew he was right: you shouldn't be doing this. But with your body acting as the driving force behind the determined roll of your hips, rational thought was currently taking a back seat.

“I know, but I’m so close,” you whispered, your voice sounding so pathetic as you held back your moans. “If you never want to talk to me a- ah fuck - again after this, I understand.” 

Kakashi pulled you back towards him, your back now flush against his chest, as you continued to ride his thigh from your new position. His heart was hammering in his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear how its rhythm increased when he dragged you closer.

“That’s n-not what I meant,” he groaned quietly, wrapping his arms around your waist. You could feel him slightly thrusting against your ass, his hard length pressing into your soft flesh. “I meant we shouldn’t do this because I don’t think I’ll be able to ever look at you again without imagining how your ass feels against my cock.” 

“Fuck,” you whined, your high quickly approaching. His filthy words were making you feel even more humiliated by what you two were doing, but they also made you so much wetter. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you drank in the beautiful sight of him looking so desperate to cum, and that’s what sent you over the edge. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stay quiet as you came, your thighs trembling around his leg from your orgasm. 

“God, you look so beautiful when you cum,” Kakashi whispered, his thrusts against you becoming more erratic. “I never thought - f-fuck - I’d get to see you like that.” His arms tightened around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. “I just wish I could’ve heard the s-sounds you make.” 

“Maybe we’ll just have to do this again sometime so you can hear me,” you teased, rolling your hips one more time against his cock. Your sultry words were his breaking point. He covered his own mouth with his hand, whispering curses into his palm as he rode out his high beneath you. 

“Do you really mean that?” Kakashi panted after a minute of trying to calm down enough to speak. His fingers absentmindedly traced in various patterns on your leggings, the sensation bringing both of you back down to earth. 

“I think this conversation is best to have after we help Obito finish moving and we're not limited to the backseat of a shitty van," you said with an amused smirk as you felt the van slow to a stop and park. Kakashi nodded in agreement, placing a kiss on your temple before you two had to exit the van. 

You sat up and peered over the TV, only to be met with Obito’s piercing gaze in the rearview mirror. He didn’t say anything, only raised his eyebrows at you before getting out of the van. 

He definitely heard you two.

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

read part 2 here!

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished.(Yandere! Greaser! Sanemi x Reader.)Pt.2

TW: Rape, non-con, dub con, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, misogyny, violence, toxic relationships, mind fuck, Reader doesn’t have good friends, her mom sucks, fuck Kyogo Shinazugawa. Mental health, smoking, drinking, child abuse. reckless driving, murder.

.

.

.

“Are you ready, doll?”

I have no words for him. I look up at my fiancé’s scarred face, a smile plastered on and all I feel is regret. My cream white wedding dress does nothing to hide my growing bump. My feet feel swollen within the heels they were stuffed into and my make-up was on the verge of being ruined. 

The only thing I feel grateful for is the long white veil covering my face. I don’t want him to see me as I am. All dolled up and pretty as he had carefully planned for all along. I simply nodded as we linked arms and walked down the aisle of the church.

As the organ played

As the mocking birds sang their song

As our feet clicked against the tilted floor

I only had one thing plaguing my mind.

.

Why the fuck didn’t I run while I still had the chance?

Keep reading

hii 💕 i have a leon oneshot request!

basically leon has been gone on a mission for much longer than expected and reader is soso worried it is eating them alive. and then one night in the middle of the night reader hears the door open so theyre scared because god knows who it could be so they go to check and its leon! theres then crying from the reader and lots of love and comfort that eventually leads to sweet comfort sex 💓

idk if you take requests on specific versions of leon but og re4 is my favorite version 😋 if you dont thats fine <3

Of course I take requests for specific versions of Leon!

I haven't written for OG RE4 Leon before but I tried my best to capture his sass/surliness. So here's what I think comfort sex would look like for him :)

Lmk if you want anything changed! I'm super happy to edit it as much as you'd like so it better suits your vision~

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

OG RE 4 Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Synopsis: Leon comes home after a prolonged mission.

Tags: 18+ (smut), MDNI, hurt/comfort, established relationship, re4!Leon, AFAB reader, oral (m receiving), p in v, cowgirl position, missionary position, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, mutual comfort sex (Leon has feelings, too!)

WC: 6,270

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You’d tried everything to quell your roiling stomach: chamomile tea, peppermint tea, shots of apple cider vinegar, a whole bottle of Tums consumed over the course of three days (which, now that you think about it, could have actually worsened your condition). You’d gone on walks to distract yourself. You’d taken a yoga class with a close friend. You’d taken pilates with a not-so-close friend. And in an act of utter desperation, you’d called your mom to make small talk about the weather and her current hobbies just so you wouldn’t have to stew in your own thoughts. 

But your anxiety hadn’t been assuaged, not even remotely. In fact, it festered, kept alive and well-fed by your incessant tears and the late nights spent hunched over the porcelain bowel of a toilet. Like black mold clinging to the back of your kitchen cabinet, it thrived on your misery, on the dampness of your cheeks, on the way your breathy screams humidified the gelid, sterile air of your bedroom when you had yet another gruesome nightmare. 

Leon had been gone for almost two months now and he hadn’t called. Not once. Not a singular call wherein he’d sit silently on the line just so you could hear him breathe. Not a singular email or text or goddamn smoke signal to indicate that he was still alive. 

He’s a callous man, though, not one to share his emotions so openly. He’d improved with you; he’d developed a heart when you’d sobbed and half-heartedly beat his stupidly toned chest with the sides of your fists the last time he’d been gone for a while. He’d developed a habit of calling you at least once a week. Sometimes he’d speak, but most of the time he’d just let you do all the talking. That was enough, usually, and he never complained — well, not after you’d given him a proper tongue lashing for his total lack of sympathy. 

Leon’s apology had been sincere. He’d gotten you flowers, taken you to a lavish dinner, and showered you with expressions of deep remorse. He’d made up for it in the bedroom, too, and how could you really stay mad at him after that? 

Easily, you think now. You can easily stay mad at him. He’ll have to do a lot more than bring you to climax a couple of times to make up for this — if he’s alive, that is. 

You let out a small sob. He could very well be dead now. He could very well be dead and you’ll have no way of knowing. It’s not like you two are married — you’d been dating for a while, but nowhere near that level of commitment. You wonder if the U.S. government paid courtesy visits to girlfriends. He didn’t have family, and all of his friends were also government employees, so they’d certainly know well before you did if he’d made it out alive. 

You remove the heating pad sitting on your stomach, roll out of bed, and pad over to Leon’s dresser. You’re close to exhausting his supply of t-shirts, so you’d taken to rationing them like some kind of doomsday prepper. They’re now reserved for nights you’ll predictably get little to no sleep, but when was the last time you’d slept through the night, anyway? No wonder you’re down to his last three shirts. 

It still smells like him, like leather and whiskey and cedar wood. You take off the shirt you’re currently wearing—it’s also his but his scent isn’t as pungent—and slip the new one on over your aching body. You bring the collar to your nose, inhaling deeply. Tears prick your lids. God, how are you not out of tears yet? But a muffled jingling of keys and the distinguishable sound of the front door unlocking breaches the silence that had befallen your apartment these past two months. 

Your blood turns to ice as you hear the door creak. It’s shut with painstaking care. You tiptoe across the room, and extract a baseball bat from underneath your side of the bed. You return to Leon’s dresser, reach into the drawer, and silently sheath the length of the bat within one of Leon’s socks. 

There’s shuffling coming from the other room. Heavy boots on hardwood make minimal noise as they creep into—are they in the kitchen? You want to laugh; you’ve never before had a hungry burglar. Cabinets creak open and shut. The fridge door, sticky and always more difficult to open than one would assume because Leon had fucked with its hinges when he was trying to be “helpful”, opens a second later. Its dim yellow light is visible through the crack in the bedroom doorframe. You can faintly see a broad silhouette standing before it. 

Leon’s apartment isn’t large. The bedroom feeds directly into an open plan living room and kitchen. You could use this opportunity to sneak up on the intruder. Judging by their stature, they can’t be too much taller or stronger than you but you’d be foolish to assume you could beat anyone in hand-to-hand. And what if they have a gun? 

You resolve to stay put, to stay hidden. They’re likely to come into the bedroom anyway. You’ll get the jump on them as they enter. You take a deep breath, bat clutched tightly between two hands, and ready yourself behind the door. You’ve never killed anyone before; you hope you won’t have to do so tonight, especially with a bat. That just sounds preposterously messy. 

The fridge door is closed. A plate is dropped in the sink. A stream of curse words are emitted in hushed tones. Your breath hitches at the familiarity of the voice but you shake your head and chalk the resemblance up to your own pathetic optimism. Leon would’ve called. Leon would’ve given you a heads up. Leon would’ve—

The footsteps grow closer. Your heart is practically in your throat. Shit, you curse to yourself, shit shit shit shit shit. You press your back against the wall, bat clutched tightly between white-knuckled fists. You try to make yourself as small as possible, to shrink to the point of imperceptibility, and as the door opens, you hold your breath. 

Your draw blood as you bite the inside of your cheek; its metallic tang inspires waves of nausea. The door slowly closes. You clench your teeth, and flex your taut fingers along the handle of the bat. Your heart is in your throat. The intruder pauses after closing the door, glancing curiously around the room. And just before they’re about to turn around, you bring the bat down over their head. They somehow manage to catch the it before it makes contact. 

“—Wait, stop,” they shout. 

You can hardly hear them over the roaring of blood in your ears. You pull the bat toward you, subsequently unsheathing it and leaving the intruder holding only the makeshift scabbard. You swing it horizontally with as much strength as you can muster. It makes a sickening whack as it collides with the person’s stomach. They stumble backward, one arm wrapped tightly around their abdomen. The other arm is outstretched, in search of something along the wall next to the door. 

And before you’re able to ready a third swing, the lights turn on in the bedroom, and you come to the realization that the intruder isn’t an intruder at all — it’s Leon. 

You gasp and bring your hands to cup your mouth. The bat falls to the ground with a resounding thud. 

“LEON?!” 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he manages to choke out in between retches. He’s heaving; the collision had winded him entirely. He slumps against the wall and slides down to sit on the hardwood flooring. “That was a—that was a good swing.” 

“Leon, oh my god,” you shout, rage replacing your initial shock. “Leon, what the fuck are you doing here?!” 

“It’s my apartment.”

“That’s not what I fucking meant, asshole. How are you alive?” 

Leon lets out a labored chuckle and rests his head back on the wall, “Believe it or not, I’m good at my job.” 

“Clearly,” you spit. “Clearly you’re so fucking good at your job that you managed to stay under the radar for two months. I haven’t heard from you in two months, Leon. I thought you were fucking dead.” 

“Which is why I expected a warmer welcome. Fuck me, I guess.” 

The anger flaring in your chest abates as you finally take him in — bruised, battered, bloody, and filthy. His clothes are ripped, his lip is swollen. He must have come straight home, you realize. He hadn’t stopped to so much as sign his name on a report. He won’t look at you—can’t look at you—when your irises hold such ire. You take a few steps toward him, fists curled tightly at your sides. “Yeah, fuck you,” you spit. 

“Fuck you, Leon,” you repeat, voice cracking slightly. 

Tears cascade down your cheeks in fat rivulets now. “Fuck you.”

You collapse to your knees at his feet. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, Leon Kennedy.” 

But your tone lacks conviction; syllables spill from your chapped lips in an unprotected free-fall. Your words are slurred, garbled by the tightness in your throat. You grab fistfuls of his shirt, and bury your face in his chest. It’s quickly soaked through, but Leon doesn’t dare move except to gently cradle the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 

“You s-should be,” you hiccup. “I thought you were dead.” 

“I know.” 

“I was fucking worried sick.” 

“I know.” 

“I called my mom, Leon. I called my mom, and spoke to her for an hour because I hadn’t heard from you in weeks.” 

“Shit,” Leon chuckles, “that bad, huh?” 

A wet giggle escapes your throat, “Yeah, asshole. That bad.” 

He holds you tightly, sore arms coiled around your shoulders. You want to squirm out of his hold, to recoil at the feel of his calloused hands through the thin t-shirt. You want to revile his absenteeism, his negligence, his indifference. A scream bubbles in your chest, a simultaneous cry of apostasy and piety now that he’s home. The acrid sting of bile kisses the back of your tongue. You choke it back; you choke back your anger, too, because it’s irrelevant now. It’s petulant. It’s ungrateful. 

He’s home. He’s home and he’s holding you. He’s home and he’s holding you and you’re holding him. 

You pull away to look at him more fully, as if in disbelief that this isn’t yet another nightmare. But then the scent from his soiled clothing wafts in your direction as if affirming his existence.

Your nose crinkles as you say, “You smell awful.” 

“Two months in the middle of nowhere will do that to you,” Leon chuckles. 

You inspect his shredded knuckles and the healing gashes along his forearm. “Middle of nowhere do this to you, too?” 

He catches a stray tear with a hooked finger, “Classified, sweetheart. You know that.” 

All you can do is nod. You bite the inside of your cheek. He cups the side of your face, and brings your forehead to meet his. 

“I missed you,” he whispers. “I thought of you every night, if that helps.” 

“It does… and it doesn’t.” 

“You’re fickle.” 

“You’re unreliable.” 

Leon exhales humorously through his nose. “I’m trying my best not to be.” 

“I know,” you whisper. “I know it’s not your fault, too.” 

Leon’s shoulders drop. He swallows thickly, frustration scrabbling for dominance in his aching chest. It doesn’t win out, though, and he clenches his jaw as the tear he’d been suppressing for the better part of his conversation splashes onto his scabbed hand. You kiss away the subsequent tears. He notices the dryness of your lips, but doesn’t mind. You’d been through it — he’d put you through it. His stomach flips at the thought of you writhing in bed at night, at the thought of you weeping into his pillow, utterly alone. 

You stop kissing his tears when they become overwhelming, when he starts sobbing into your shoulder and uses your shirt as a catchall instead. 

“Leon,” you sigh, “Leon, it’s okay. You’re home. You’re safe.” 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he manages to choke out. “I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart.” 

“I know you are. It’s okay. Don’t cry; I’m here.” 

It takes a few minute for Leon to regain his composure but you don’t mind. You’d gladly spend the rest of the night pulling him into your chest, coiling around him like a snake just to ensure that he never left again. You run your fingers through his matted hair, gently untangling the knots riddling his chestnut tresses with each pass. You lightly scratch the nape of his neck. He hugs you more tightly when you do; it’s his favorite. He kisses your neck as a show of gratitude. You refrain from kissing his cheek — it’s coated in a thin layer of dirt. You’ll need to bathe again. Leon’s the first to pull away. 

“You know,” he sniffles, “that’s not what this sock is for.” 

He holds up the sock you’d used to sheath the bat with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“No shit, it’s a sock.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Your brows furrow first in confusion, then in disgust. “God, Leon,” you grimace, pushing at his shoulders.

He wraps his arms around your waist, and works to keep you locked in his embrace. 

“Let me go!” You shout. 

“Were you not just crying because you missed me, sweetheart?” 

“I changed—my mind. Go away—forever,” you giggle between pathetic tries at freedom.

“So fickle,” he laughs. You shriek with laughter as he blows a raspberry into your neck, and tickles your sides. You fall onto your back in your forlorn attempt to escape; he follows suit but he’s unrelenting in his assault. He kneels between your legs, swatting away your taloned hands with ease. His laugh is rich albeit hoarse and gravelly from weeks of overuse; yours is similar in tone. 

Panic rises in your chest as his tickles continue. Your ribs are growing sore, your lungs are screaming for air. In desperation, you prod his stomach with your foot. Thankfully, he takes the hint, and stops. Leon places his hands on your knees. You sit up on your elbows, melting beneath the warmth of his gaze. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you sigh, nodding toward the bathroom with a small smile. 

He reciprocates your smile then helps you onto your feet. His hands don’t leave yours as you walk to the bathroom, or as you start the shower. He lets you undress him, lets you lower yourself onto your knees and make quick work of the laces on his boots. He watches as your fingers furl around the tattered fabric of his compression shirt, gingerly remove his belt, and undo the buttons on his fatigues. You don’t make eyes contact. You don’t think you’d be able to finish without crying if you did. 

Leon’s thankful, of course. He wouldn’t have made it through without crying either. He wasn’t lying when he told you he’d dreamt of you every night. He hadn’t been trying to placate you with empty platitudes — you’d occupied his every thought. 

It had been his most strenuous mission thus far, the most physically and emotionally taxing. Only his horrific sense of humor—your words, not his; he thinks he’s hilarious—and the prospect of coming home to you had kept him alive. Maybe he’d tell you about it someday. Unlikely, but he so desperately wants to share this part of himself with you. He’s sick of walking through the world feeling unknown, like a fraction of a human or wandering specter whose soul is tethered to both realms. 

His fingers find the hem of your—his—t-shirt, and pulls it over your head with aching, uncharacteristic geniality. You step out of your panties, eyes fixed on the extensive bruising along his torso. You run a tentative finger along the length of a particularly deep wound. He suppresses a wince, terrified of worrying you further. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” he croaks. “You’re not that strong.” 

You snort. “I should focus upper body next time I’m at the gym then. That way I can give you what you actually deserve.” 

He gives you a soft smile, cupping the nape of your neck. “You wouldn’t prefer that I train you instead?” 

“So I can hear quip after quip about how weak I am? Absolutely not.” 

“Ouch,” he rasps, “you have no faith in me.” 

“None at all.” 

His lips ghost over yours. “Then why is it my name you always scream when we’re having—?” 

“They’re curses, Leon, not prayers,” you sigh.

The nails on Leon’s free hand dig into the plush of your hips. “Right,” he affirms, voice low and gravelly, “they’re curses when you’re on your back, but prayers when you’re on your knees.” 

He walks you back into the glass door of his standing shower. You gasp as your fevered skin makes contact with the cooled glass. He nips your earlobe, and presses gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Then what’ll it be tonight, sweetheart: curses or prayers?” 

“Neither if you don’t get in the shower,” you gasp. “You smell like a fucking sewer.” 

He tosses his head back in laughter. “I’d’ve preferred the sewers in all honesty. But fine,” he kisses your cheek, “I’ll be good and listen.” 

“For once.” 

“Only once,” he confirms, stepping into the steady stream of hot water. His hands find yours once more as you step in after him. His voice soften when he asks, “Don’t let go of me, yeah?” 

“I won’t.” 

Leon hums in approval, his hold on your hands tightening as he closes his eyes. When he’s confirmed that you’re here, you’re present, you’re real and with him, he allows his head to loll back and the water to drench his neglected scalp. 

Your fingers trail up his torso, his chest, his neck, and weave into his hair once more. Your lower lip tucked nervously between your teeth as you usher him out from beneath the shower head. You let go of his hand. His chest rises as a breath gets caught in his throat, and falls once he realizes what you’re doing. 

“I’m going to let go, but just to get the shampoo,” you say. “Ready?” 

He clenches his jaw then nods. It devastates you, how tense he grows in the absence of your touch. You lather the eucalyptus shampoo in your hands. It’s his favorite scent, the only one that soothes him when he returns from missions. You delicately work it into his hair, paying particular attention to the nape of his neck, and his temples. His deft thumbs mirror your ministrations, tracing circles along your pelvic bones. 

“Okay, rinse,” you instruct softly. 

He listens, leaning back into the water. And you repeat this process, not once compromising the fragility with which you slough off the dirt and grime from his tired body. It melts off him like second skin, collecting in muddy puddles around your feet. Once he’s clean, he returns the favor: he lathers minty smelling soap along your arms, your legs, the valley of your breasts. His unoccupied hand trails after the fluffy loofah, kneading your soft skin in grounding, almost as if he’s committing your body to memory. 

You’re cleansed from the pain of the past two months, scrubbed raw and vulnerable and anew by the same hands that had caused it. His marred body tells the most unholy of tales, but you’d done your best to dispel the horrors it had endured. He appreciates it—appreciates you— and the effort you expel to wash away as much of his sins as possible. They’ll never go away, the scars. He wishes they would, wishes he could flush them away as easily as you had scoured the debris and filth from his wounds. They serve as a constant reminder of his culpability, of his part in your misery.

But then you kiss the winding scar tissue bisecting his chest. It had healed improperly, leaving the skin gnarled and warped and puckered at its pink seams. He’d sustained the injury shortly after deployment. He’d worried endlessly about the way you’d react. He’d ruminated on the possibility that you’d reject him, that you’d find him utterly repugnant. He’d mulled over every possibility except this. 

And it nearly does him in. 

His chest collapses the closer your lips come to his heart, and once he feels your gentle kisses settle over the muscle with stinging finality, it collapses, too. He grips your wrists; your hands flex in surprise. 

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he returns, peppering the insides of your wrists with warm kisses. You watch him intently, curiously. He winces as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. Your eyes widen; he strokes the sensitive flesh of your wrist with a calloused thumb in dismissal. 

“Did you hear me,” he asks with a chuckle. “I said I love you.” 

“I know,” you giggle. “I was just making up my mind if I’ll be cursing or praying to you.” 

“Oh? What have you decided?” 

“Wouldn’t you rather me show you?” 

“Absolutely,” he grins. He flinches harshly as he reaches behind him to shut off the water. You grab his waist reflexively, worry grappling at your chest. Leon gives you a sheepish smile. You give him a pointed look in reciprocation before stretching your arm past him, and turning the knob. 

You usher him out of the shower, push past him, and retrieve one of the plush white towels hanging from behind the bathroom door. You dry each other off, unhurried touches taking on different meaning as the towel and curious hands graze over sensitive skin. You let out a small whimper as he cups your breast and his lips leave slow, fevered kisses along the column of your neck. 

“Bed,” you gasp. He hums in approval.

You stumble backward through the bathroom door, body still warm and damp from the shower, but before collapsing onto the bed, you flatten your hand against Leon’s chest. 

“Curses,” you breathe. “But they won’t be mine tonight.” 

He arches an eyebrow in question, so you guide him onto his back in wordless explanation. His eyes soften as realization dawns. 

“Sweetheart—“

“Please let me, Leon. Please.” 

And how could he say no? He can’t very well argue, not when your eyes glitter in supplication and excitement. But he can’t acquiesce to your desires right away. That would be wholly uncharacteristic.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he says with a facsimile of a pout. He places his hands neatly behind his head, and gives you an expectant smile, eyes flicking from your mouth to his half-hardened cock. Your immediate frown dissolves into a warm smile as his breath stutters, shattering the facade. 

You take his length in one hand, and with agonizing care, stroke him from base to tip. He swallows thickly, cock twitching in anticipation. God he’d missed this. He’d missed the feel of your soft hands working him into submission. His eyes flutter shut, breath hitching as your lips find the gruesome scar defacing his muscular chest once again. 

“I’ve missed you so much, Leon,” you whine, hand quickening in its ministrations. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

He hardens in your hands, a sharp juxtaposition to the way his muscles relax the closer your mouth comes to his throat. You suck on the delicate flesh, nip it until it flushes red, then lavish it with apologetic kisses. The love marks you leave behind are meant to compensate for the violence shown to the rest of his body — it desperately needs reminding of how deeply you cherish it. 

You capture his lips with your own, slip your tongue into his mouth and pour as much affection, as much frustration and relief and adoration into it as possible. He returns the action in kind, hands leaving the base of his neck to cup your face. He pulls you closer, kisses you more deeply, and litters your neck with bruises of his own. 

Arousal spreads like spilled sunshine in your lower abdomen, warming you from within. You feel yourself grow damp as he palms your breasts, as he rolls a pert nipple between two fingers. He cups your cunt with his free hand; you can’t help but keen at the contact. 

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he rasps. “Did you touch yourself at all while I was gone?” 

“No,” you admit, heat rising to your cheeks. You whimper as he parts your lips, and coats his finger in your essence. “No, it doesn’t compare.” 

“Damn right it doesn’t,” he groans as you swipe your thumb across the tip of his cock. “Am I going to get to taste you tonight?” 

“Later,” you keen. “For now, just lay back, okay?” 

He doesn’t listen immediately, too reluctant to retract his hand from between your legs. You have to pry him from you, beg for him to let you make your longing known. Smiles spread across both of your faces at the playful struggle that ensues: Leon pinches your nipple, you squeeze his cock, and urge him to lay back by threatening to cease all ministrations until he obliges. He chuckles sweetly as your expression softens, as you resume pumping his length, and trail wet kisses down his torso. 

You bat your eyelashes at him coquettishly as you reach his pelvis, fingernails sinking into the flesh of his thighs. He emits a small grunt of approval, hips bucking in anticipation. His eyes grow glassy, unfocused in his lust for you. He tries to close his eyes but the attempt is met with a sharp nip to his upper thigh. 

“Eyes on me, Leon.” 

He opens his mouth to protest, retort on the tip of his tongue, but it’s drowned out by a guttural growl. You drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, eye contact unwavering. You take him in your mouth slowly, inch by inch, the salty tang of his precum sending waves of desire through your system.

Your pace is slow at first, hesitant more than self-assured. It grows quicker as you acclimate to his size. You hadn’t forgotten how large he is — in fact, you’d been looking forward to the day when he’d mold you to himself once again, to the day he’d stretch you so thin you’d see sparks behind your fluttering lids. But your lungs can’t keep up with the pace with which you take him and soon enough, you see the blackened wisps of asphyxiation enter your periphery. You slip a hand between your legs, and rub tight concentric circles along your clit. You use your free hand to compensate for what your mouth can’t reach.

You moan around him as your orgasm builds; he moans in return, savoring the way the sound reverberates through his system. He cradles the back of your head, strokes it lovingly as you take him deeper, deeper, deeper. The coil in his stomach tightens — he’s so close. He can tell you’re close, too, based on the arrhythmic tempo with which you take him.

An overwhelming need to take you, to hold you, to make you his once again grapples at his chest. It had been so long since he’d had you, so long since he’d showered you with praise and affection. He feels his consciousness slipping, mind growing fuzzy as his arousal reaches a fever pitch. He wants to tell you to keep going; he need to tell you to stop. But his words come out as garbled nonsense the more you tighten your lips around his length and the more you hollow out your cheeks.

Unable to control himself much longer, he thrusts up into you. You’re taken aback, gagged as the head of his cock collides with the back of your throat. You give him a warning glare, pausing halfway down his cock, tears pricking the inner corners of your eyes. He could come from the heat of your scowl alone. 

“S-sorry,” he chuckles as the fog slowly lifts, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.

He sits up to caress the back of your head. You mirror his posture, removing his cock from your mouth to press your forehead to his. He’s mesmerized by the way your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath. 

“I just… didn’t think we’d get the chance to do this again,” he whispers through a choked sob.

And you heart shatters. You take his face in your hands. Tears threaten to spill forth, threaten to snuff out the heat building between your legs, but the gentility with which he holds you, the heaviness of his breathing, the ease with which he sweeps you onto his lap, stokes the fire nonetheless. 

“I need you,” he whispers, “I need to feel you. Please.”

“You have me, Leon,” you keen, softly rolling your hips along his length. “You have me. I’m here. Let me take care of you.” 

You readjust to straddle him more wholly, knees caging in his eager hips. You roll your hips gently along his length, coating him in your essence. His head slumps forward into your breasts. You stroke his hair. 

“I love you, Leon. I love you so much.” 

“God,” he rasps, “God, I fucking love you, too, sweetheart.” 

He admires the way the plush skin along your hips bubbles beneath his grip. You’re so soft, so sweet, so lush and comforting. His chapped lips latch onto the junction of your neck and shoulder, stifling a lascivious moan. Leon urges you to keep moving, keep gyrating along his aching cock. You’re happy to oblige, meeting the steady pace he’s setting with his hands. 

“Inside me, baby,” you gasp, “I want you inside me.” 

Leon lifts your hips just long enough to align the head of his cock with your entrance. Your hold on his hair tightens as you feel him push the tip inside, You clench your teeth, and shut your eyes in anticipation, only to receive a sharp, playful slap to you ass. You glare down at him, eyes alight with indignation, mouth agape. 

“I need your eyes open, sweetheart,” he growls, tightening his hold on your hips. “I want you to look at me while you fuck me. And I promise—,” he bucks his hip up into yours, “that I”ll return the favor.” 

You let out a filthy moan as Leon thrusts his cock into you. Your cunt is so tight, so wet after two months of neglect. He slips right in, from tip to base, without much struggle. But the dampness of your cunt and the depths of your arousal don’t negate the blinding pleasure you feel from being stretched to your breaking point. You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, you pull at his hair, you try to cling to something—to anything—in a desperate attempt to stay grounded. But through it all, you don’t dare break eye contact. You don’t dare look away from his darkening irises — once a startling blue, now a deep, sensual indigo. You don’t dare deny him the opportunity to watch you come undone.

“Leon,” you keen. “Fuck, Leon, it’s s-so much.” 

You press your forehead to his again, and work to match his bruising pace. He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and lapping at your pert nipple while he watches your pupils widen. 

You’re so stunning like this, he thinks, so sweet when your lips have turned a startling crimson, swollen from his kisses. And he can’t help the elation rising in his chest when you moan his name or when your pussy, dripping with arousal, tightens around his cock. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, the only one who could bring this out of you, and that knowledge nearly sends him over the edge. 

White spots blossom in your vision the head of his cock kisses your cervix. You grind on him. You gyrate and bounce and roll your hips in your frantic search for release. His cock twitches within you. His grip becomes bruising. His thrusts sputter. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “Fuck your pussy feels so good. God, I’ve fucking missed this pussy so much.” 

It’s all so much messier than usual, so much less rehearsed. You’d both fallen out of practice, and it’d be dishonest for you to say that you aren’t the smallest bit relieved. The way he fucks you feels primal, carnal, like a deep-seated hunger that has long demanded satiation. It’d been a while since you’d both felt this desperate for release. 

He sucks at your neck. You toss your head back to grant him further access. 

“Leon—fuck— Leon, I’m going to—“ 

“Do it, baby, come on my cock. Please fucking come on my cock.” 

And you’re swathed in rolling waves of euphoria. Realty splinters, your consciousness is swallowed in brilliant pyrotechnics as your orgasm crashes down around you. Leon wraps his arms around you instinctively, allowing you go to limp in his embrace. He fucks you through your climax, relishes the way his name spills from your lips in fragmented syllables. Before you’re able to come to, Leon flips you onto your back. 

You coil your legs around his waist, and your fingers find purchase on the slats of your headboard before he drives his cock into you. You let out a sinful moan on impact. Leon reaches between your legs. He pressurizes your clit, rubs tight circles with a calloused finger, and the friction in tandem with the unrelenting bucking of his hips catapults you straight into another shattering orgasm. 

Leon’s not too far behind. It takes a few more strokes, long and deep, for him to come undone and when he does, he swears he’s never felt pleasure quite like it. An immeasurable sense of peace washes over him as he feels your cunt tighten around him, as he feels you pull him to your chest and pepper his cheeks with loving kisses. The feel of your hands, of your lips, of your heartbeat pounding against the thin walls of your chest is akin to heaven. 

“Leon,” you cry, “Leon, Leon, Leon.”

An incantation. A promise. A psalm recited at his altar. A hymn sung between a smattering of kisses.

His name is symphonic as it leave your mouth, grounding as it tethers him back to this plane, this apartment, this bed. He’s so underserving of your love. He’s so undeserving of your patience and kindness — he’s learned that long ago— but he’d be damned if he ever gave it up for anything.

Leon manages to regain lucidity long enough to remove himself from between your thighs, and lay on the empty side of the bed—his side of the bed. It’s cold, he realizes, colder than he’d ever remembered it being. But before sadness can burrow into his bones once more, you envelope him in a disarmingly warm embrace. 

He hugs you to him, kisses your temple, your cheeks, your lips, and audibly laments over all of the nights you’d spent apart. 

“It’s okay,” you placate. “You’re here now, and that’s what matters.” 

“I know,” he whispers between kisses, “I know.” 

He kisses away the tears that fall from your tired eyes. You manage to say, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you more,” he croaks, choking back tears of his own.

Silence befalls the bedroom once more, but for the first time in a long time, it does’t unsettle you. You take comfort in the slowness of Leon’s breathing, in the slowed beating his heart. You nuzzle into his neck. He lightly scratches your back, and traces hearts and stars with dull nails. 

“So,” he says after a period of comfortable silence, “those didn’t sound like curses to me.” 

Your snort in amusement. “They sure as hell weren’t prayers.” 

“Weren’t you on your knees for most of them, though?” 

You smack his shoulder playfully, and giggle as he pulls you closer to his chest. 

“Fine, they’re prayers” you acquiesce. “Though I don’t know what I’d be praying for now you’re home.” 

“I didn’t know you prayed at all.” 

“I don’t,” you state flatly, “But I… I’d’ve done anything if it meant you coming home safe.” 

He clenches his jaw, and kisses the top of your head. “Well, I’m home now. And I don’t think I’ll be leaving again any time soon.” 

You sit up at that, “Really?” 

Leon melts at the optimism in your tone. He guides you back onto his lap gently, delicately as though you were made of glass. The kiss he places on your lips is sweet, docile, genial, so unlike the hunger with which he’d ravished you before. 

“Really,” he affirms, smiling into another kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling exuberantly at the possibility of having Leon to yourself for an indiscriminate amount of time You start to make a mental checklist of the new restaurants that you’d discovered in the past two months, the pop ups and farmers markets that had taken root in his absence. But your planning is disrupted as Leon’s half-hardened cock grinds up into your cunt. You gasp as its head grazes against your swollen clit. 

“Have I told you how much I missed you?” He whispers in a voice so husky, so rough that it shoots arousal straight through your core. 

God, you’ve missed him, too. 

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 by anonymous user ꒱. . . hello ! I really like your works, could I please request an insecure!reader with chuuya? and him fucking some sense into her? don't feel pressured to do this btw and feel free to ignore :D

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 note ꒱. . . here u go, nonnie ! I really liked this idea and sorry for taking so long on this request 😭 anyway, hope you enjoy ~~

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 c/w ꒱. . . (18+) n/sfw content, mentions of insecurities, body worshipper chuuya, praise, lowercase intended, hints of dumbfication, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, chuuya eats it from the back !! 🗣️🗣️& more + not proofread

summary. . . you've been feeling insecure about your body and started to wonder if you were really good enough for someone like chuuya? but no worries, your lover doesn't mind reminding you how much he loves your body and more importantly, you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the fancy full-body mirror in front of you; god, you looked horrendous. you didn't know how chuuya, one of, if not the most beautiful man you've ever met, love someone like.. you.

what you also didn't know, though, was that your beloved chuuya had been standing in the doorway the entire time, slender figure leaning against the doorframe as a dull pain throbbed in his heart while he watched, heard you pick apart your body like it was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. he watched as you ran your fingers up and down the parts you hated the most, a frown tugging at your lips as you muttered something about "not being pretty enough". he didn't understand why you'd say such things about your body− all of those beautiful parts of yours that he cherished wholeheartedly.

you whipped your head around hearing the sound of the once slightly ajar bedroom door shut, your boyfriend entering the room. "hey doll, what're you up to?" chuuya's voice was heavy, laced with something you couldn't exactly put a finger on.

"hey, chuu," you smiled, though the action didn't meet your eyes. and chuuya could tell.

his eyes narrowed, gloved hands found their way around your waist, tugging you closer to him− your back flush against his chest. when did he walk all the way across the room?

"y'know, I heard everything right?" he muttered into your neck, strong arms tightening around your figure as you gulped nervously. "chuuya I−" "you're fuckin' beautiful. so don't say hurtful shit about yourself 'cause it for sure ain't true," he cut you off, now pressing soft kisses on the back of your neck to your shoulders, gloved hands reaching up your shirt to knead and gently caress your soft skin.

a whimper caught in your throat as chuuya's hands found your breasts− pushing your bra up to grope them under your shirt. "i love all parts of your body. fuck, you're so pretty. i'll fuckin' prove it to you if i have to."

"you see that, baby? see the way this pussy sucks my fingers in?" chuuya mused, now bare fingers plunging in and out of your sopping cunt as he had you spread in front of the giant mirror. "mm-! fuck, chuu−!" you were cut off by your own moans, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, making the little strands of your baby hair stick to your skin. "shh, baby. just focus on the way i finger fuck this pretty cunt, yeah?" your lover's voice was muffled by the soft kisses he was busy pressing all over your nape and shoulders, moving your hair out of the way to make it easier.

you could see everything in the mirror, from the way chuuya's slim fingers disappeared inside of your pussy to how much of a mess you've already become− glossy lips parted as loud moans and whines escape from your throat, the way your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust of his digits. and hell, was it embarrassing. you jolted up when the tips of his appendages rubbed against that one spongey spot inside of your gooey walls− your jaw slacking as your eyes shut. only to receive a gentle but firm slap on your face from chuuya, "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna watch how I please this beautiful body of yours," he growled lowly in your ear, fingers speeding up their pace as you twitch and whine in response. your vision was blurry− but you could still make out the way your face contorts to one of pure bliss in your reflection.

"yeaah− cum on these fingers, sweetheart," the ginger groaned as you soaked his fingers− your slick running down his wrist and staining the bed sheets underneath, soft curses and his name spewing out of your mouth as his fingers slowed down, aiding you to ride out your orgasm.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled them out of your still sensitive cunt− only to pop them in his mouth as he moaned from the taste of your juices melting on his tongue. "fuck, doll− I gotta taste you, need'a make you cum on my tongue−" he pushed you on your hands and knees before even finishing his sentence− a large hand pressing your back to a perfect arch, face down ass up.

"such a nice fuckin' ass," he groaned, fingers digging into the soft fat and spreading them as you whimper, pitifully clawing at the bed sheets. he playfully bit one of your globes, earning a whine in return which made him chuckle. chuuya's greedy hands ran down from your ass to your thighs, only to go back up to knead at your ass, "and these soft thighs− god, I could kiss 'em for hours."

and as if to prove himself, he started littering kisses all over your inner thighs, hands still kneading your ass before giving it a firm spank, making you jump. "hah, and of course−" he smirked before making his way to your pussy, "this pretty fuckin' pussy− prettiest one I've ever seen," he growled before diving in between your legs− hungry lips wrapping around your clit as you gasp out from the feeling.

"fu−ck! chuuya−!" you babbled, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm from earlier, his nose bumping against your slit as he runs his tongue in a zigzag motion across your clit. his fingers were spreading your ass apart for him, to get easy access to your sweet pussy that he wanted to devour so bad.

shamelessly nasty slurping noises came from between your parted thighs. your slick was already dripping down chuuya's chin as you tried your best to keep your gaze on the mirror, watching yourself getting eaten out from the back. fuck, your hair was a mess− your bare figure covered in bites and bruises that your boyfriend gave you, claiming it was his way of showing you were his. your makeup had been completely ruined; mascara running down your cheek in inky streaks, lipstick smudged− you looked utterly debauched, chuuya's favorite look on you.

a gurgled moan came out of your mouth when two fingers pushed inside of your sloppy pussy, the mafia executive's tongue now writing his name on your clit. a deep groan rumbled in his chest when you tried to run away from the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you− pulling you back before harshly cracking a palm down on your left globe, before curling his fingers further into you. tears were falling freely from your eyes at this point, mouth dropped to an 'o' as you chanted his name like a prayer− "chuu− please, fuck! s'too much−!" you cried out, if it weren't for chuuya's death grip on you, you'd already have fallen face first into the matress.

"you can− fuuck− take it, sweet girl," chuuya moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of the sound making your toes curl and apparently that was the last straw for you− "fuckfuck! 'm cummin'− cummingg−!!" your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted all over chuuya's face, his own hips rutting into the mattress as his eyes widen− he wasn't expecting you to do that.

chuuya gave your messy cunt a few more licks before kissing your clit, then pulling away. you looked back to see his face completely drenched− him licking his lips as he gave you a lopsided grin. "holy shit, baby. that was..." he muttered, still dazed as he ran his clean hand through his sweaty orange locks. you were still panting, chest heaving as you tried came down from the euphoric high before looking away in embarrassment, fingers fiddling with the sheets− then suddenly, you got slammed back against the bed. face down, ass up, again.

you heard a metal clink− likely his belt. the sound of expensive leather hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, he must've tossed the belt somewhere. it wasn't long before your thoughts got quickly cut off, chuuya's heavy tip slapping against your clit a few times as you whined, begging him to give you a rest but no− he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure he fucked all those negative thoughts out of your mind− wasn't gonna stop 'till all thoughts but his left that pretty little head of yours. you just had to sit still and take it, like the good girl you were.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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.ೃ࿔ SECRET SURPRISE ☾

finding out you’re pregnant on the day of toji’s big mma match

tags —nsfw, unprotected sex, pregnancy, cum dump, pet names, riding, dacriphilia, cum slut, cockwarming, mood swings, morning sickness,

notes— links are informational NOT nsfw links! OPEN THEM!

one thing that always calmed toji was definitely being deep inside his most precious person. feeling you squeeze around him had his stomach clenching, lips clashing with yours as you whined.

“my dicks fuckin’ melting,” he pants. he had you in so many different positions, absolutely wrecking your body. currently he had you in one of your favorites. especially after missing him after he’d been away for so long. his hand laced in your small one, squeezing it with each sharp thrust. holding it beside your blessed out face.

“gunnu c…cumm,” your eyes flutter, your free hand held his face, lips falling open as he kissed you, groaning as he picked up the pace, your back arched up, legs crossed behind his back as he angled your hips up. he felt himself slide deeper inside letting you suck him in.

“remember the shape of my dick, pup?” he chuckles, sitting up on his knees to grab your hips, thumb falling over your swollen clit.

“mmh just know y-yours, toji!” his thumb circles your bundle of nerves watching you cry out, legs trembling.

“good girl,” his grin had your stomach bursting with joy, you love him so much. so much. your fingers reach out, desperate for his touch. “still so needy after all this time.” he takes your hand, leaning over to kiss the soft digits. your eyes are crossing as you feel your legs tremble. “my pretty wife…” he cooes, only making you tremble at his deep voice.

“shit, squeezin me tighter than usual!” you almost knock the wind out of the man as he crashes his lips, drinking your gasps and tears as you tremble around him. “trying to push me out?” he slaps the outside of your thigh as you cum around him.

“more cum,” you kiss his lips, sucking his tongue, playing with his scar as your eyes gloss over, too dumb to think of anything else.

toji pushes your legs higher, sinking deeper as the squelching of your pussy echoes in the bedroom. “love you, love you toji…toji—ah” your pretty chants has his body heating up and dick throbbing even bigger. you feel every vein that bulges around his fat girth and his big tip kissing your cervix.

“if you keep acting like a needy brat, ‘m gonna bust soon,” his voice is strained. he fell deeper than ever, your eyes crossing as toji practically drools into your mouth. your tight pussy around his throbbing cock only had his tongue lolling out.

“mph ah ‘s big,” the large bedroom balcony was wide open as the cool night breeze swept your moans.

“want it please,” you held him so close. arms squeezing around his sweaty neck as you kissed his pretty scar—

“gun kill me,” he felt his stomach tighten, dropping his sweaty head into your neck as he gives a few more very sloppy thursts, until he’s twitching unbelievably hard, hips stuttering inside as his tip sprays long ropes of cum.

“feels so warm, toji,” you lick his ear as toji hums, lazily rolling his hips inside you as he breathes heavily against your neck, a few strained groans coming out when he feels you clench, filling you up.

“take it all,” he pushes up, leaning over your face as he pants, your fingers holding his face as you pull him to your lips.

“I mean you’re still cumming—“ you suddenly squeal, toji flicking your clit causing your body to jump.

“don’t be all snarky,” he pants over your lips, your tongue hangs out as toji deepens the kiss. sucking your tongue, making your cream ooze around his bulging cock some more.

you rub your tummy as toji groans, pressing a hand over yours and pushing down, making you whimper. he was filling you up so good. you loved the feeling of him cumming inside you.

once his dick runs dry, he rests beside you, pulling you closer. your deep breath falling even as you two fall asleep.

toji kept his soft cock deep inside you, holding you close to his chest as you slept. the warmth and closeness wasn’t something he’d admit out loud, but he needed it.

A couple weeks go by, as you roll over to your side. your stomach hurting as you extend an arm out, only to feel an empty bed.

“to…ji…” you feel another uncomfortable churn before suddenly tripping out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom, quickly falling in front of the toilet as you throw up.

you miss toji, you almost whine. why was he gone so early? you don’t think much of it. instead you go about your day until toji comes home. leaning on the man as you sit with him on the couch. he’d gained some weight for the weigh in tomorrow, so he was bigger than usual.

“you went harder than usual last night,” you mumble in his side. toji looks over, noticing the healing bruise around your thighs, his big hand gliding between your legs to rub the skin.

“i thought i heard someone cry for it to be harder,” he snarks.

“well like ya, but i have a shoot tomorrow,” you mumble rolling over so you were hugging toji.

you were more affectionate than you usually were, toji notes. you’ve been attached to him since he walked in. sitting beside him as he bathed, helping him get dressed, now you’re all over him. wasn’t this was your favorite show? is your period soon?

“you feelin alright?” toji runs a hand on the back of your head, petting you gently, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders.

your leg glides across his lap, nuzzling yourself onto him even closer. “mhm.”

he wraps an arm around you pulling you closer as he continues watching. you’re quiet, maybe you were just tired…you were wearing his sweater and sweats, but he could feel you trying to get closer to him.

“you’re needy tonight, pup,” toji grunts, feeling your hand down the front of his pants, playing with his semi-hard on.

“just missed you,” you kiss his ear, toji hums snaking his own hand down the back of your sweats and slipping a finger inside you from behind.

it didn’t take long for his fat cock to be nuzzled deep inside your dripping cunt.

“something happen today?” toji holds your cheek, the other on your hip helping you bounce on his lap. your ass slapping down on his firm thighs, whining at how big he is.

“why do you keep asking that?” you huff, getting annoyed with his questions. “just…uh, wanna feel you,” your nails dig into his shoulder, head falling back as you chase your high.

“you’re acting…”

“what?” you squeal feeling toji grab the back of your neck pulling you to his lips. you cry as he kisses you aggressively.

“I’m asking how my wife is, don’t act like a child,” he snaps, making you whine, clenching around him. toji groans getting worked up and helping you fuck him faster.

he could never get tired of this view. your head thrown back as you held his shoulder and the other hand holding his wrist that was playing with your tits. you were so fucking beautiful. your eyes fluttered as you cried out and cumming with a shake, letting him spill inside you again.

usually you would cuddle into him and let him soothe a hand over your back, but instead you stood up, his cock slipping out of your holec immediately watching his cum ooze out, still sticking to his tip, as some more cum slid down to hos base. your hand cupped your pussy and headed to the bathroom.

“baby?” he leans over the couch, puzzled.

“haveta pee,” you mumble, discarding your sweater and the door shuts.

toji follows a couple minutes later, grabbing a towel to clean off before tucking himself. he looks over seeing you in the shower. sliding the screen open, you hum looking over your shoulder.

“you’re worrying me here, did something happen? did i do something?” toji was horrible with words, but that doesn’t mean he’s a complete fucking idiot. he thinks he can read you pretty well especially having married you. likewise. yet, this is the first time he’s seen you act so…moody.

“worried about what? we just had sex?” you wash the conditioner from your hair, opening your eyes to look at the man. he looked so confused.

“dunno,” he mumbles. he wanted you to confide in him. is he really that bad with emotions that you can’t tell him what’s going on? “can you tell me you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you smile softly, quickly easing his nerves, but he can’t help but look at you longingly.

“c’mere,” his hand reaches out, cupping your face and pulling you close. “gimme a kiss.”

you smile as you walk closer, away from the water, to lean high up meeting his lips firmly. he’s leaning down, holding your face as he continues kissing you. he couldn’t get enough of you, his hand stroking the back of your neck as you hum, rubbing your fingers on his wrist.

toji still had his guard up. you were in fact “okay”, but you seem more irritated one second, but suddenly okay the next. he checked your temperature and you seemed fine.

“she’s been really moody,” toji chugs some water as he leans against the ring.

shiu doesn’t bother to look up from his ipad. “what did you do?”

toji rolls his eyes. “thanks.”

“did you forget her birthday, leave your dirty socks in the kitchen?”

toji fixes his gloves. “who do you take me for? you’re no help.”

“she could just be sick for your ass,” shiu shrugs, looking up to laugh at toji’s annoyed expression.

“fuck off.”

your head was pounding. heart thumping out of your chest as you sat on the cold tile floor. your lips trembled, hands running cold….no way….no way…..

“hon, he’s asking about you! you alright in there?” shiu’s hand knocked on the door.

of all the days to find out your pregnant, you had to find out now. you couldn’t hold back and wait until tomorrow…but you were nervous! you couldn’t wait—

you inhale sharply. “I’m fine.”

the moment you step out though, your eyes immediately scan around, overstimulated by all the people moving around, the coach warming up toji, shiu answering calls—

“you alright, baby?” toji is loosening his muscles as he looks up at you, ready to head out as they try to push him out the door . you don’t even realize how your legs automatically carried you to him. “baby?”

you’re an idiot, truly. because the way his hand stroked the back of your neck and the way his voice sent your stomach fluttering.

“i have to tell you something….” you bite the inside of your cheek. no, you couldn’t tell him now, that would be absolutely disastrous.

“ya, quickly,” his thumb caresses your cheek, waiting for you. instead you only lean up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him to your lips. his lips automatically open as you kiss him feverishly. you pull away breathing for a minute. toji’s eyes are slightly open watching the way you squeeze your eyes shut as you kiss him….“you alright?”

your breathing heavily, before forcing out a tight lipped smile. his brow quirks even more concerned as you nod. “f’course…stomach just hurts a bit,” you peck his lips again before letting him head out.

your eyes follow him as he glances over his shoulder. he was concerned, he still couldn’t figure out what was going on. maybe something happened at work? but you haven’t complained about anything, which you always do if there’s a problem—

“you got this toji, make sure to keep your guard up after his left hooks!” his coach yelled in his ear as toji stepped into the cage. his arms snapping out, before stepping up to the middle. his eyes immediately ventured out, scanning the front row to find you. you weren’t looking at him…

“scared to look at me, king?” his opponent mocked, practically making toji roll his eyes into his skull.

once they shook hands and the round began toji was in the zone. his fist colliding with his opponents stomach then face. sending ripples through his body. it was always impressive watching toji move around the cage, his feet carrying him so fast you could barely keep up.

your heart felt like it was about to leap from your chest, and not in a good way. would toji even want a kid? he’s in the highlight of his career, he wouldn’t have time for this…are you even ready?!? you’ve been with toji for awhile, but you never imagined having kid so early, did you even discuss it with him. would he think you’re not ready??

toji took a hard elbow across the face, knocking him to the ground.

“FOUL!” the ref shouted. your eyes were filled with worry. you like watching toji fight, it was exhilarating, but this time you felt sick.

toji’s eyes seemed to find you immediately. ready to get back up, but he stopped breathing for a second…..the simple gesture of your hand on your stomach…he felt his heart beat a little faster as he unconsciously, almost automatically, connected the dots in his head.

“oh fuck.”

the eye contact you made said absolutely everything. it was too easy reading you. his stomach churned, his fist slammed into his opponent. he couldn’t think, taking hits he would normally dodge. your hands falling over your face as toji kept getting beat, over and over and over—

what is going on?!? toji was screaming at himself. stop thinking! just move!

with every ounce of his being, toji used it to land a direct blow across his opponents head, immediately knocking him out on impact. the ripples of his muscles, sent a wave of adrenaline pumping through his veins. and the only thing he could do was shove the flooding people coming into the cage, not even letting the ref grab his hand to announce his victory.

your eyes blew wide as toji fell to his knees in front of you, immediately between your legs as his hands grabbed your waist, staring up at you with bright green eyes. his chest was heaving, blood still trickling from his split lip and cut eyebrow.

“toji, congratulations!” you immediately try to wipe the blood with your sleeve, not caring that you spent so much on it. his dark green eyes were blown, immediately falling on your beautiful lips, congratulating him over and over—

your heart stops. his lips press softly on the back of your hands. kissing so gently…. he’d normally go for your lips and shamelessly deepen it—

“don’t be nervous,” he speaks softly, surprising the living hell out of you. he’s never been so soft after a match. but the look in his eyes immediately told you…he knew.

“I don’t know if I’m ready…” your head dropped, you couldn’t be a mother, you’ve fucked up so many times! you lost your keys just a week ago and accidentally got on the wrong train home after a long day!

toji tilts your chin. “and your career—“

“do you wanna keep it?” he asks, tilting his head not breaking eye contact. your stomach was churning even more. you felt like throwing up. you never gushed about having children, nor did you ever wish to have some. but it’s weird….its weird because you felt really warm inside. you didn’t know why your mode was shifting, why you were okay, but the sureness in toji’s eyes—having him come immediately to you.

you could only nod, biting your cheek so you wouldn’t cry, but covering your face with your free hand. the mma victor could only smile, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. the audience and reporters around had no clue what was happening, but everyone was swooning at how gentle toji was being.

“I’ll be the one to fuck it up, so don’t worry.” he teases.

you hit his chest. “don’t say that.” you take your hand off to look at him, he had a light flush on his cheeks. you’ve never seen him so calm after a match. “you sure?”

“kids are annoying brats, but if it looks like you…,” you roll your eyes. “what did you think was gonna happen?” you quirk a brow.

your breath hitched as he leaned his face close to your ear, his voice low, similar to how he spoke to you when you’re intimate. “your pretty eyes always filling with tears if I don’t stuff you full with my cum.”

your face burned red as his hand stroked your neck unbeknownst to the cameramen and reporters all waiting for toji to return. “can’t remember a time where you weren’t begging for it deep inside.” his hand travels down to your lower stomach!

you felt your legs closing as you hid your face in your hand, trying desperately to compose yourself, but my god, this man was so absolutely shameless.

“wonder what day of me pumping your tiny pussy with my cum was the one that struck gold—“

“toji,” you almost cry out only for his ear, so unbelievably hot from embarrassment you couldn’t breathe. “are you trying to kill me?!”

“of course not, pup, i was just reminiscing,” he laughs, pulling away to hold your face.

you roll your eyes at his amused faced. “haha, fuck you. so mean,” you shove his shoulder back making the man laugh, as he leans forward, tilting your chin to capture your lips.

he winces for just a moment, his cut lip stinging as you taste the metal on your tongue. you loved kissing him. your ears still hot as toji pulled away, his hand slipping down to hold yours as he walked with you back to the reporters. he did not take his hands off you that entire night.

when videos and photos were released, fans were deep diving to try and read toji and his wife’s lips. desperate to know what was so important.

but was only confirmed at his match a year later, when he stepped into the cage and gave a wave to his wife and little baby sitting on her lap.

PART 2

link // link // link // link // link // link // link

OPEN THESE LINKS 🔗 do not stop talking about this! I hope u enjoy my fics but it’s all pointless if u don’t open these links and repost! information is power! especially and most importantly NOW!!

I think Im done! ZOMBIE SANEMI YEEEEEEEESSSS MY BELOVED GRRR

He is my religion…. Anyways this is fanart for @sassysaxsolo ‘s Zombie Sanemi fic, I am literally IN LOVE with him, he lives rent free in my head purrr. Check her stuff out, its really finger licking good!

Can we please take a moment to appreciate this latest chat photo?

I would make Solomon talk to every cat for me. Be my kitty translator I need to know all about that precious baby’s life.

Barbatos, darling, give me those books they look stupid heavy. He calls that paperwork in the chat.

I love them both so much it makes me silly.

Hi! Idk if you still write about Obey Me! Characters anymore or not but I just read your fic about Mc on their monthly and I absolutely fell in LOVE with it! I was wondering if you could do one where Mammon kind of takes care of Mc while they’re pregnant? I just think it would be a cute idea to see Mammon go into devoted partner/parent mode :)

I actively write for Obey Me and Twisted Wonderland, actually! Thank you for asking!

If you're ever wondering what my status is for taking requests, you can find my status updated on my "Masterlist/Rules" post, which is pinned on my blog. I've now added a link that I'll keep updated on the latest posts I make for that status. Also, I've done a few AFAB pieces recently, but I also am comfortable doing AMAB pieces as well if any readers are curious!

That being said, I hope you enjoy this! It was a little more outside my wheelhouse, but I wanted to make it fun and engaging as much as I wanted to make it comforting and heartwarming. It falls a little outside your request, but it sparked a muse and I ran with it.

Content Warnings:

AFAB Reader

Gender Neutral Reader

Pregnancy

Established romance with Mammon

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "So what's this gonna be like?" Mammon, arms wrapped around your shoulders, looks to Solomon from over your shoulder.

As the resident expert on humans and demons, and having an extensive history of oddjobs, many of which were medical, Solomon made the most adept medical professional for your current situation. You and Mammon have decided to start a family together. That doesn't come without its own complications, but Solomon made it easier.

It also helped that he helped you fuck with Mammon a lot.

"Well, as the baby grows inside of me, it'll eventually start growing a brain, and probably by about the second or third trimester, it'll start trying to fight me for control of my body." You hardly keep a straight face, but it gets worse as you and Mammon see Solomon sagely nodding along. You almost break and laugh right then and there.

Mammon's face turns from disbelief to shock at the sight of Solomon agreeing and he looks to you with the most gentle and nervous horror. Like he feels responsible for what you're about to endure. It's so hard to keep a straight face as he's losing it, so you half-cover your mouth and close your eyes, nodding to reaffirm what you've just said.

Mammon steps back, releasing you from his comforting hug as he tries to digest this information. He realizes he's about to lose it in front of you, so he excuses himself. "Uh, I just realized I left our.. Our pregnancy bag! Back in the car! Yeah! I'll be right back."

You can tell he's freaking out. It takes all of yours and Solomon's strength not to crack until Mammon's gone. ---

Once he's gone, you two just lose it. You laugh so hard that tears form in the corners of your eyes. Solomon has to hold himself up against his table.

Between hushed laughter, Solomon wheezes out; "I didn't think he'd actually believe it"

"I never thought you'd go along"

"How long do you think we can keep this up"

"Honestly depends on whether Belphegor wants to spoil the fun or not."

"I hope we can keep this going forever."

"It'd truly be the gift that keeps on giving." ---

Mammon, texting his brothers;

Mammon: [APPARENTLY HUMAN BABIES PILOT THEIR HOSTS WHEN THEY GET SMART ENOUGH]

Levi: [Wait, wait what??]

[YEAH, LIKE THOSE ROBOTS FROM YOUR SHOWS]

[WAIT WHAT]

[YOU KNOW- THE ONES THAT PEOPLE GET INSIDE AND PILOT??]

[YOU TURNED ___ INTO A MECH?]

[YEAH]

Lucifer, interjecting: [That doesn't sound right.]

Belphegor, who knows damn well this is not what happens when humans have babies, is opting to stay silent, because this is significantly funnier than calling Mammon out for being stupid. If the entire group can believe this, it's even better.

Beelzebub, worried: [Are they going to be okay?? What's going to happen when the baby's in charge? Are we going to have to watch them?]

Satan: [I'm looking through my human pregnancy and prenatal books right now and I'm not finding anything about the baby taking over its host?]

Belphegor, who won't stand for your baby being treated like a parasite, only interjects to explain: [Parent. Not host. Parent. The parent carrying the baby.]

Satan, not understanding: [That's what I said?]

Belphegor: [___ isn't a host, they are the parent. Stop calling them a host like the baby is some kind of tumor.]

Lucifer: [Mammon. Please explain? Why do you think that the baby is going to pilot ___?]

Mammon, who still is losing his collective shit: [___ SAID IT THEMSELF AND SOLOMON SAID IT WAS TRUE, AND I'M FREAKING OUT. SOLOMON SAID IT WAS NORMAL AND WOULDN'T BE HARMFUL, BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HUMANS]

Beelzebub: [I wonder if the baby will like different foods when its in control. I'm excited to meet the baby.]

Asmodeus: [Oooh, I can get the baby's preferences for when we're getting their room ready, and deciding on clothes! What a great evolutionary trait!]

Satan: [I want to see if we can learn what books it likes. Then we can stock up on lots of them before they arrive.]

Mammon: [HOW ARE YOU ALL STAYING SO CALM?!]

Lucifer: [You said they said it was normal for humans, yes?]

Mammon: [Yeah??]

Lucifer: [Then there's no need to worry. You started a family with someone from another realm, so now you get a crash-course in their biology. Did you not think there would be differences between you two?]

Mammon: [BUT THIS IS WEIRD, RIGHT?]

Leviathan: [I'm actually with Mammon on this one for once.]

Mammon: [THANK YOU]

Lucifer: [Whatever may come, you're the one they chose. Are you going to prove yourself as their 'Number One', or are you going to fail them?]

There's a long pause in the chat as everyone awaits Mammon's reply. It takes him a moment as he's still freaking out but now he's upset because Lucifer is right. You chose him. He's your number one in every sense of the word. If he can't handle this, then does he deserve to be your number one?

Mammon: [I'm still freaking out but you're right. I've got a family now. I've got to stay strong and be the man they know they can rely on.]

Lucifer: [Good.]

Asmodeus: [Where are they?]

Mammon: [Oh shit I ran out of there I've gotta go back] ---

Mammon returns, sheepish, way outside of his element, and feeling like he's in over his head, but he refuses to ever let you down. He dips into Simeon's room, since you're both at Purgatory Hall for the check-up with Solomon, and he steals a bouquet of flowers from a vase in the angel's room. He dries them off on his shirt and brings them to you. When he arrives, he asks Solomon to give you two a moment together alone.

When Solomon's gone, Mammon hands you the flowers and looks away, his face hot with embarrassment. "Whatever happens, I'm here for ya'. I'm not goin' anywhere. Sorry if I seemed freaked out before, I just, this is new to me. But I'm here. And I ain' goin' anywhere. Even if y'get mad, or the baby hates me!"

You feel your heart soften from his warmth. That same love and devotion that melted your heart when you first got to know this demon. He's still as determined as ever to be strong for you. You smile warmly, moving to hug him, resting your head in against his shoulder. He softly massages into your back - A comfort he's been doing more as the pregnancy has been giving you backaches. "The baby's not going to hate you, Love. They couldn't. You're amazing."

You can feel the heat in Mammon's body rise as he gives you a soft squeeze, careful of your torso as he buries his face in your neck. "No you are.. There's so much new ground we're treadin', an' you're just so strong in the face of it all.." He rarely lets down his walls to admit his fears, but when it's just you, he's not ashamed to admit he's afraid. He knows you know his strength. "I just wanna prove to ya' that I'm here for all of it. I'll be your rock. Alright?"

You move to warmly peck his face, causing him to softly pepper your cheek with pecks, until you two meet in the middle in a warm, gentle kiss. You two savor the contact for a moment. When you part, you softly murmur "… Thank you. I love you."

Mammon smiles big, grinning as his love for you swells in his chest. He hugs you close. "We're gonna have a baby!" He picks you up, doing a small celebratory turn in a circle and gently setting you back down as you laugh, hugging him back just as warmly.

"We're gonna have a baby."

"Fuck, I love you.." You can see small tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he says this to you, his hand softly cradling your face. You laugh happily with his mushiness, cradling his head to you, tugging him into another kiss, which he warmly returns.

Mammon's love for you is overwhelming, and no matter what the odds you face together, he'll be there to fight right beside you. ---

Bonus Scene:

Belphegor, texting Solomon;

Belphegor: [So like, how long is this gag gonna go?]

Solomon: [As long as ___ can keep a straight face. I can go forever.]

Belphegor: [I'm in.]

Solomon: [They're going to be so happy to hear that.]