#⇐divider cred

[swordymacaroni]

A/N-I know for a fact that Simon would be obsessed with you but would refuse to just admit it, finding the stupidest excuses before he finally relents.

Warnings-Suggestive/Language

Just so I don't break her heart, Simon thinks to himself when Gaz and Soap tell him that you wanted to go out with him. He's not oblivious to his charm; many find him attractive. He doesn't really care about you, he'll just go on one date to change up his routine a little bit.

Just so I don't break her heart, Simon tells himself when he meet you in a dimly lit bar, the disco lights highlighting the gorgeous outline of your body. He only met at the rendezvous point because if he didn't you'd probably bitch to the entirety of 141 that you got stood up, and he didn't have time for the drama.

Just so I don't break her heart, Simon reasons as he voluntarily secures his hands around your soft waist and leads you out onto the dance floor. He dances with you the whole night thinking maybe you'll lose interest in him and he can go on his merry way. Definitely.

Just so I don't break her heart, he thinks though a lavender haze as he rips off your dress in a dark nook of the bar, drinking in the contours and curves of your body. He needs to relieve tension anyway. He'll just forget you exist tomorrow.

Just so I don't break her heart, Simon mumbles to himself as he curls around your smaller body, greedily soaking in your warmth. Your love. He should leave. You'll wake up and start being clingy. He should leave. As soon as you turn around and tell him you were his and his only.

Just so I don't break her heart, his thoughts are dimmer each time you laugh, sob into his shoulder, touch his cheek, grow irrevocably closer, become his. It's progressed to a fling, but will be nothing more. Really.

Just so I don't break her heart, he thinks as you walk down the aisle in your flowy white dress, gracing him with your goddess-like presence as tears flow unchecked from his cheeks. He says his vows with reverence and devotion. Just so your special day isn't spoiled. He doesn't care about spending his whole life with you.

He does

He does

He fucking does

Just so I don't break her heart, Simon's thoughts begin before something bright and brilliant shoots through his mind. It says, Whose heart? The singular one that beats between two people? Simon pushes it out, away, as he gently unbuttons your wedding dress, staring at your face lovingly. It looks the same as it did all those months ago. Beautiful.

Just so I don't break her heart, Simon thinks as you fall asleep in his arms. Because if he does, his own will shatter into a million pieces.

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader - halovian courtship

warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual

summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.

a/n: i read about birds for this

halovian courting rituals

1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.

You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.

The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.

“Nightingale Famil-“

The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.

“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”

Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?

“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”

He looks a bit disappointed?

He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”

The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.

“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”

Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?

“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.

“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!

He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”

For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.

You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.

“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.

“Please, take it.”

Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.

2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!

Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”

“Mr. Sunday?”

He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.

“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.

“Well, they are very pretty but—“

“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.

“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.

The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.

“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?

Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.

“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”

He wishes that moment would never end.

3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.

One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.

Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.

Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.

Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.

♫ ♬ ♩

Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.

Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?

Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”

He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”

“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”

“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.

A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?

Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”

“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“

“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.

“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?

Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”

His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”

“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“

“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”

a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion

[ogprettyprincess]

✧ shifting simplified (using loa)

you want to be in your dr, so you imagine that you are. now you're there in the 4d. but because imagination creates reality, you are also there in the 3d. you do not need to wait for the 3d to conform. because shifting/manifesting is not a process.

it is instant. stop making it hard for yourself. you're literally in your dr right now. you literally have everything you want right now. there is no waiting.

tell yourself you're already there. that you wake up there every morning. fall asleep there every night. throughout the day, do stuff you'd do there or imagine (or visualize) that you are. say and think this over and over and over. the trick is to not contradict these thoughts and actions.

decide that you're in your dr and make that the final decision. be cocky about it. impulsive thoughts that say otherwise mean absolutely nothing. shut them down. point and laugh at them. fruition will show.

if you're as determined as i am, drown in your affirmations. make it all you do. saturate and it'll happen faster than ever.

✦ affirm and persist.

disclaimer 、this is all based on my belief system. if it contradicts something you believe, that doesn't mean you're wrong. we just see things differently!

[chosows]

"AM I DOING GOOD?"

YOUR OBSESSED LOSER BOYFRIEND

Choso x Fem Reader

Summary: Choso just can’t seem to get enough of you. To him, you’re the only woman worthy of his time—the only woman he’ll ever look at so intimately. When you’re at work, he struggles to cope with your lack of company, becoming desperate for your attention when you aren’t around. Every day he awaits your return impatiently—craving your familiar touch.

Word count: 2.5k

Contains: Submissive Choso, established relationship, masturbation, interrupted masturbation, begging, teasing, no protection, penetrative, cowgirl, missionary, cumshots, creampie

Audio: i based this on this audio from a request. full credits to the VA for inspo

Note: need to write more one shots like this ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

Left alone in the bedroom, Choso grumbles. The past few hours have been spent aimlessly flipping through TV stations; there is nothing to satiate his boredom. He wants one thing and one thing only—you. He flooded your phone with messages, receiving no response since you’re likely making your way home from work. Time couldn’t tick by any slower.

Rolling onto his side, the open drawer full of your panties catches his attention. Choso pierces his lips together, his mind wandering to picture you in your lingerie—thinking about how sexy you look when you tease him, sending him all those naughty pictures when he’s the one at work. The ones he saves to his gallery in a special folder just for you; two albums have your name, one inaccessible without a passcode.

Grabbing a pair, he balls them up into his hand and throws himself back on the mattress, admiring them in the air. A black lace set, simple but equally as seductive. He lowers them to his face, cursing himself for his perverted ways as he sniffs, only to be disappointed by the smell of laundry detergent. No one could miss pussy more than he does; his dick throbs at the thought of your taste when you guide his head, holding him down while he eats you out.

Unable to contain himself, he fumbles with his zipper and pulls his dick from his underpants, his tip sensitive to the touch. Using your panties for added stimulation, he begins stroking himself, wishing it were you touching him. Sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you—it’s beginning to interfere with his life; deep down, he knows he’d live no other way. You’re the only thought in his head; he’d do anything for you—the possibilities are endless.

Since you’re not home, he’s free to be as loud as he wants. His moans leave his mouth as his head lolled back, letting himself get lost in the endless fantasies his mind curated of you. You enter through the door and take your shoes off, humming the tune to the song playing through your headphones while you walk through to the living room. When you call Choso’s name, he doesn’t reply and your brows pinch together.

“Baby? Are you home?” You call out again, hearing clattering coming from the bedroom.

“M’ here. Wait—” The floorboards creak as you approach the bedroom and he panics, covering himself carelessly as the door swings open.

“I missed you so much!” You beam at him and walk over, holding his head in your hands while cuddling him to your chest.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles, his dick twitching from the material of the blanket rubbing him the wrong way.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” You pull your lips to one side and put your hand on his forehead, slicking his hair back, “You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m okay, just sleepy.” He smiles, his eyes innocent despite the deceit—he’s not tired at all.

“You’re always sleepy.” You hum, pressing your forehead to his. Your gaze lowers, noticing him swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Not always.”

“Your cheeks are rosy.” Your thumb strokes over his smooth skin, unaware of the situation under the blanket that he is desperately attempting to conceal.

“You’re so beautiful.” He chokes on his words when you straddle him, your ass directly on top of his hardly-covered dick.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s—” He grits his teeth, turning his head to the side, “—Nothing. I told you I’m fine.”

“What’s this?” Underneath the blanket covering him is a slip of fabric. Before he could stop you, you reel it out and reveal your panties.

“I swear I can explain, please.” He whines, grabbing your hand while you stare down at him. You don’t speak, giving him the approval to justify his actions.

“I just wanted to feel you. I missed you so much; I need you so fucking bad.” His eyes were wide, a soft glimmer possessing them while his hands rubbed up and down your hips.

“How long have you been jerking off in my panties?”

“A few weeks—”

You flash a stern glare at him and he huffs, squeezing your fingers while they intertwine with his.

“I know, I’m sorry. Please, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’re so needy, you know?” Your voice lowers, bundling his shirt as you draw him closer to you. He couldn’t handle being touch-starved for much longer and cracked, connecting his lips with yours.

While you intended to go for a controlled approach, Choso was sloppy, dragging you down with him while his lips assaulted yours. All his pent-up sexual frustration is revealing itself, his tongue meeting with yours in an instant. Despite not being touched, this was all he needed to orgasm, whimpering pathetically into your mouth as he cums all over himself. You pull back and remove the blanket, seeing the trail shot up his lower abdomen and shirt.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” He murmurs, grabbing onto your face with both hands, “I’ve been a good boy for you.”

“You’ve been perfect.” Your lips twist up, “Only you could cum all over yourself like this. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours. Only yours.” He hastily replies, grinning right back at you.

“I think it’s only right that a good boyfriend deserves a treat, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You’ve made such a mess.” You toss the now dirty blanket onto the floor, helping him out of his shirt and boxers.

“I’ll clean it all up later, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and pull away, only to feel his grip on your forearm tighten.

“Where are you going?” He whines, tugging you back as you stumble forward.

“I’m going to get changed.”

“No.” He lets his head roll back, his cheeks lit with a red flush, highlighting his dire need for your attention, “I need you now.”

“No?” You cock your head slightly askew, his demanding words catching you off guard.

“You haven’t touched me in ages.”

“You’re going to have to wait, Choso. I won’t be long.”

“Please don’t leave the room; you can do it here. I want to see your pretty body.”

“Let’s make a deal, okay?” You brush your hair away from your face and he nods, “I want you to get yourself off until I’m ready and I’ll stay in the room. Can you do that for me?”

“Am I allowed to cum?”

“What fun would it be if you cum again before I get my hands on you?”

“Okay, I won’t. Don’t make me wait forever.” Choso lets go of you, watching you waltz over to the laundry basket.

His eyes linger on your figure as you strip out of your clothes, using his previous spill of cum as lubricant. It was hard to remain silent, his moans muffled due to him forcing his mouth shut. There is no shame left in him as his body twitches, the sight of you from behind leaving him tearing at the skin on his lips. He was overstimulated, hornier than he was previously—but he never gave up. His body knew you were what he craved—likely the only thing providing him the stamina to keep going.

You grin while your back is facing him, hearing the soft noises he makes while he strokes himself to the thoughts playing in his mind. You glance back, noticing him divert his eyes, his hand trembling due to the repeated motions. Though cruel, you want to see how long you can make him wait. Choso always cums quickly, but he’s the type of man that wants to cum multiple times until he gets everything out of his system—until he knows that he has pleased you. If necessary, he’d continue until his eyes are forced shut.

His heavy breathing increases, his big amber eyes begging you to turn around and place your hands all over him. Under the muffled sounds of his whimpers, he calls for you, his voice too weak for you to register from the distance you’re at. He knows you’re doing this to him on purpose, turning him on as his pitch rises an octave, his whines now desperate cries for attention. You unclasp your bra, slinging it aside, then slowly step out of your panties. His face lights up, a gleaming smile displayed as his hands proceed to tremble.

“Are you ready?” He gasps in between his words, eagerly awaiting you to spin around and join him on the mattress.

“Not yet.”

“You said— We had a deal.” He almost sounds hurt, as if he took the betrayal to heart, “I’m going to cum— You know I can’t last—”

“Relax, Choso. I’m teasing.” You chuckle, spinning around and closing the distance, “You can stop now. You did so well.”

“Did I?” His sticky hand leeches onto yours, “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I keep sending you inappropriate messages while you’re at work and I steal your panties.” He utters. He feels ashamed at how attached he is to you—many of your friends have commented on his clingy behaviour.

“I like your little messages; I think they’re cute—the pictures too.”

“Yeah? You like them?”

“I love them; you look so pretty in the videos. Got the most handsome face I’ve ever seen, haven’t you?”

“I’ll send you more. You make me this way—I’m so horny. I get so excited for you to come home every day.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes drift down to his dick, wrapping your hand around it, grazing against the veins that decorate it. “All of this because of me, I’m flattered.”

“All for you. I love you so much.” Choso tugs you forward, making sure he’s able to hold you in the kiss so you can’t break free this time.

His lips were soft; you could feel his smirk pressed against you while you shuffled closer. He adored kissing you; exploring every inch of you is a blessing to him. He pulls back and shifts your hips, lining his tip up with your entrance. The moment he’s been waiting for all day is finally in his hands, the greatest privilege he has been gifted in life.

“I can’t wait to feel you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He mutters, dotting kisses down your arm while you lower yourself onto him, “So good. I’ll make you cum, I swear.”

“Quiet down, Choso.” You snicker, his pupils blown out as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Oh fuck, ‘so tight,” Since he can’t tone it down, you put your hand over his mouth. You silence his moans, barely doing enough to dull the volume.

Your day at work drained you; you don’t have enough energy to remain on top for long, growing exhausted only after the first few minutes have passed. Choso recognises your lack of energy and rolls over, allowing you to lie down. When you give him this opportunity, he makes sure he doesn’t disappoint you. He inches back into you, setting the pace to his liking, carefully analysing your facial expressions.

“Please talk to me.” He grunts, reaching forward to stroke your face.

“You’re doing so well—just like that.” Your eyes flutter shut as his tip massages a point deep within you, stimulating your G-spot. From the look on his face, it’s as though he is awestruck by you; none of this is new to him, he just can’t get over how gorgeous you are.

“Are you close?” He’s aware that it’s early on, but this has been prolonged for him—he’s already at his point of release.

“Not yet.”

“Fuck— I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“You can do it, Choso. Do it for me.”

“I’m trying. M’ trying, but it’s so hard—”

“Keep yourself there.” You readjust your position, raising your hips slightly while he secures you in place.

“Here? Should I press down?” He rubs his hand on your lower abdomen, applying pressure to aid your pleasure, “Look at you— You’re so pretty. You’re going to be mine forever, aren’t you?”

“Forever.” You mumble your words, repeating them as the satisfaction begins to take over your rational thinking.

“Can you feel this?” He says in a proud tone while his fingers circle around your clit, building your climax rapidly, “Am I doing it right?”

“Mhm’, that’s it.” Your breath hitches, muscles tightening due to the stimulation, “That’s it, Choso.”

“I’m holding out for you,” The atmosphere was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of skin slapping, “Please don’t be mad if I cum.”

“Just a little more.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.” His voice was raspy, barely able to get his words out. “I love how you take care of me. I love how good our sex is—”

“And— Those other people,” He pants, glaring directly into your eyes, “Who said I wasn’t enough for you were wrong, weren't they? I’m so good for you.”

“You’re more than enough for me.”

“Not every man has to pretend to be emotionless. They’re so jealous because I’m the one you wanted.” He plants his lips on your neck, leaving a soft trail of pecks leading down to your chest, “I’m going to give you everything, going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Choso comes undone inside of you, his whimpers flowing while his cum spurts out, filling you up just as he had anticipated. He continues to thrust, making sure you have the opportunity to finish despite him being close to passing out from the overstimulation. His hands are groping your breasts, sliding all over your body, doing anything he can to help you.

“Please cum, please,” He whispers his plea, his breath fanning onto your neck, “I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes— Oh shit,” He laughs in between gasps, not expecting his words to have an effect, “You’re so tight around me.”

Locking with his innocent eyes, you break, losing your composure as your orgasm reigns over your body. Choso is struggling to speak, his words coming out in hiccups while he continues—unable to stop himself. He pulls out of you and shoots cum all over your stomach, letting his drained body fall beside yours. Tonight, he made a mess much bigger than he ever had before, his head spinning while his body regains energy.

“I really needed this.” Choso turns, noticing the sweet expression on your face as you gaze at him.

“I love you too; I forgot to say it back.” You beam over at him while your chest heaves, your body sticky with both sweat and cum, a combination that becomes irritating as time passes.

“Give me a minute and I’ll clean everything up like I promised.” He pecks your cheek, pleased with himself for the state you’re in. Usually, you prefer to be the one in charge of aftercare—you don’t have the heart to stop him as he seems so ecstatic with his performance. “Do you want a fresh set of lingerie or my boxers and a shirt?”

“Boxers and a shirt, please.”

[thef1diary]

𝐅𝟏 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ‘𝟐𝟒

Strap in you filthy fuckers, I’m participating in kinktober this year. A total of 11 fics will be posted from October 1 - 31, specific dates and prompts are listed below:

Oct 1: Dreamy Desire | C. Leclerc ~ Somnophilia

Oct 4: Yes, Sir | L. Hamilton ~ Sir Kink

Oct 7: Guide Me | G. Russell ~ Guided Masturbation

Oct 10: Fill Me Up | C. Sainz ~ Breeding Kink

Oct 13: Anytime, Anywhere | D. Ricciardo ~ Free Use

Oct 16: Hot ‘n’ Cold | M. Verstappen - Temp Play

Oct 19: Sit On It | L. Norris ~ Cockwarming

Oct 22: Hands Full | O. Piastri ~ Nipple Play

Oct 25: Behave | P. Gasly ~ Spanking

Oct 28: Reflection | D. Ricciardo ~ Mirror Sex

Oct 31: Too Big | G. Russell ~ Size Kink

— have fun, stay filthy, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged for any of these fics. all kinktober fics will be tagged with #di’s kinky fics in case you want to block the tag.

[sseuda]

　　　　　　ꢾ꣒ ⠀　⏖　⠀ocean ⠀themed ⠀divs

[star-koos]

✮ ۪ ⋆ good bones

[rottiens]

ਏਓ content. — boxer sukuna x childhood friend fem!reader. modern au, fwb, chocking kink, petnames (princess), no happy ending.

ਏਓ notes. idk i wanted to explore the idea of a jealous sukuna, unable to take control of a situation that gets out of his hands. reader may be read as a bitch,,, perhaps. but she is just as scared of her own feelings and ruin the friendship as he is ksjd felt i needed to clarify that.

Things had been weird lately. You assume that all unspoken situations end up like this at some point. At least, that's what you presume, because you've never found yourself in a position like this before. You haven't wanted to think about it too much, or at least not as deeply as the situation probably requires. You and Sukuna have been friends for several years now, and when you started this arrangement between the two of you, you made it very clear that there were no emotional ties, nothing that could bind you together enough to later separate you.

You were nothing more than friends hooking up, a deal implied from the very first time, right here in your room. The same place where it has happened over and over again. The room that holds your secrets, your shared laughter, tears and some heated arguments. It all started with a kiss that led to another, like the flutter of a butterfly unleashing a storm. The hunger of desire pushed you to sit on his lap, you were hungry and he knew how to feed you. So it has always been: you call and he comes.

Lately, however, the tension is different. Not the kind of tension you like, the kind where a simple glance can set your skin on fire, the kind of electricity that runs through even the boxing ring and makes you clench your thighs because you know what's coming next. What surrounds you now is an uncomfortable veil, laden with unspoken words that you both avoid, knowing that a conversation about it would only make things worse.

There's only one thing you're sure of: you don't want to overthink it.

Sukuna lets out a grunt of pain under the alcohol-soaked absorbent cotton. Out of the corner of your eye you notice how his hands, wrapped in white bandages, tighten and cling tightly to your thighs.

“Hold still,” you reproach him in a soft but firm tone as you lean over to reach for a band-aid on the bedside table.

Night has fallen, and you are both enveloped in the noisy calm of the city where the murmurs of other apartments and the distant bustle of the city seep through the walls. The atmosphere feels intimate, as if the outside world is just an irrelevant murmur compared to what is going on between you.

“ He really fucked you up, hm?” you murmur with a hint of concern in your voice. He growls low, resembling a dog that's been scolded, his brow furrowed as his red eyes bore into the wide cotton t-shirt you're wearing, especially the 'V' shape that exposes your collarbones and that little necklace hanging from your neck. You seem to notice, but decide to ignore how his gaze slides with restrained desire. “You never let yourself get hurt like that,” you add with a tone that mixes reproach and concern, pressing the alcohol-soaked cotton swab against his injured eyebrow.

“I was distracted,” he replies indifferently.

You gently push his shoulders to get a better look at him, noticing how he avoids your eyes, knowing you can read him all too easily. A black eye, a split eyebrow with a few fresh stitches, and a swollen lip; signs of a fight where he clearly wasn't in his best shape. “You weren't there,” he mutters, almost as if the confession escapes his lips.

So that's what this is about.

“I was busy with work,” you reply, trying to make it sound casual.

He emits a low sound, a deep purr that vibrates against your fingers as you continue to clean his wound. There's something in his tone that reveals a need he doesn't want to admit.

“I called, you weren't there.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“You're my watchdog now?” you tease, though behind the question lies a tension neither of you is willing to fully face.

“Are you fucking him?” the rawness of his question doesn't take you by surprise as it should. You knew this was going to blow up eventually, but still, the impact of his words causes an uncomfortable knot to form in your chest. You wonder if it was the shirt, visibly larger than you usually wear, that made him suspicious or if it was your growing coldness over the past few weeks. “You reek of him. Is that why you didn't come to see me, because you were fucking him?”

“Ryomen…” Your voice sounds like a gentle, almost motherly reproach, as if you're trying to stop a child about to get into trouble. Yet he receives it exactly that way: with a mixture of frustration and indignation, as if it's unfair of you to speak to him that way when all he wants is the truth.

“The fucking guy from your job,” he spits, his gaze piercing you with a mixture of anger and hurt that he rarely lets on. His hands are tense, knuckles white on your thighs.

The words hang in the air, heavy and toxic, mingling with the bitterness of everything unsaid between you. But deep down, you both know this goes far beyond simple jealousy.

Your tongue moistens your upper lip as you try to buy time, looking for the perfect excuse to deflect the conversation. But this time, there's no escape possible. You're trapped in his lap, his hands firmly gripping your ass, his face so close you can almost feel the heat of his skin.

“It just… happened. We have no strings attached, remember? It was what we agreed to. I thought we were both having fun.”

Sukuna lets out a bitter, dry laugh, laden with an irony that cuts through the air between you like a blade. His fingers sink harder into your flesh, making you aware of the tension coursing through his body.

“Do you really think I'm having fun right now?” he murmurs, his gravelly voice with an edge that cuts through you. The way his scarlet eyes pierce into you it's as if he's searching for something beyond your words, something even you don't know how to express. There's a restrained fury in his gaze, but also a hint of pain that you didn't expect to see. That glint that suggests that, perhaps, all this has gone further than either of you would dare to admit.

Your fingers slowly glide across the scarred skin of his shoulders, following the path of his tattoos, noting how each small movement tenses his musculature. You run down his naked torso, feel the warmth of his chest under your palms, then wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in close enough for your words to brush his lips in a whisper.

“Are you jealous, is that it? It's hard for me to tell when your boner is pushing against my ass,” you whisper to him with a mixture of mockery and desire.

Sukuna hates it when you use that tone, one that reminds him that, despite everything, he's always the one who ends up giving in to you. It's as if you have an invisible leash around his neck, and every time you pull on it, he comes without resistance. You lean a little closer, making sure his cock rubs directly against your pussy, barely covered by the thin set of panties you're wearing. The woody scent of the other man on your body confounds his senses, mixing rage, lust and something he doesn't want to name.

You hide in his neck, leaving a trail of kisses just behind his ear, that spot that always makes him lose control. Sukuna squeezes your ass cheeks tighter, pulling you even more into him, letting you feel every inch of his hardness.

“You have to talk to me,” you murmur against his skin, your teeth catching his lobe in a playful bite that makes his skin bristle. “I can't read what you're thinking.”

You know you're driving him crazy, that you're playing with fire, but you enjoy watching the cracks in his facade of hardness begin to appear and wonder how hard you can push before he snaps.

“Is this what you think I am to you, a dog you can call whenever you feel like fucking?” Sukuna spits out the words, his voice laden with a resentment he makes no attempt to hide. Every fiber of his body is still vibrating with the adrenaline of the fight just ended, and even though the physical battle is over, he still feels cornered, as if he's taking blow after blow.

Instead of responding with words, he lets his body do it for him. His hands scrape your skin, descending to your neck, squeezing gently to get your full attention. The pressure isn't enough to hurt you, but enough to make you focus on the burning that ignites in your clit, yearning to be rubbed and abused by those same hands that know exactly how to bring you to the edge.

“Is that what you want me to be?” he murmurs in a dangerous tone. “To let you use me over and over again? To make you cum on this thick cock until you're sobbing, crawling under me because it's too much?”

Your only response is a moan that escapes uncontrollably. You thrust your hips against him, seeking more friction, and he, despite his anger, begins to thrust from below, losing control over his own desire. This is what you needed, what you had forgotten in weeks without touching. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, are marked through the soft fabric of your t-shirt, begging for his mouth, for his teeth. There is always something about the way Sukuna holds you after he has humiliated you to the point of making you cum on his cock, an intimacy, that you find in no one else. It's that closeness that envelops you when he embraces you while you're still trembling after you've reached your climax.

“Answer me,” he growls, his fingers squeezing a little tighter, his voice demanding a confession.

“Yes… I need you to make me cum,” you murmur, unable to help the tremor in your voice.

Sukuna laughs, but it's not a kind sound. Your eyes widen in surprise when he lets go of your throat. The next breath you take is painful, immediately missing the pressure of his hand again.

Suddenly, he stands up, forcing you to be quick not to slip off his lap. Before you can process what's happening, he pulls on his blood-stained shirt, his movements calculated, as you stare at him blankly. “Jerk off and go to bed, princess,” he says coolly, adjusting his clothes without looking at you. “If you really wanna talk, come see me tomorrow after the fight. I'm leaving.”

With nothing more to say, Sukuna turns away, leaving the unresolved tension in the air and you with the feeling that, this time, the rules of your arrangement have changed forever.

[lunarw0rks]

────141 headcanons: touching the belly────

a/n: y'all know i'm a sucker for the the pregs trope so i had to do this request. and i only did the four dinguses for this one, sorry anon ☺️

warning(s): pregnancy, fluff+angst, invasion of reader's personal space/privacy, protectiveness, hurt/comfort?, afab!reader

‧˚₊ MAIN MASTERLIST ⟢ 141 MASTERLIST ‧₊˚⊹

๋࣭ ⭑ PRICE

⌞one of the perks of being married to john is being supported. quite literally the definition of it, in every form. that goes for your baby too, no questions asked. he's more akin to simon in being traditional while you're expecting. wants you home, resting and not lifting a finger.

he's very particular about who he lets close to you, more than ever now. it makes sense considering his work and the general fragility of a new family. in the same way as kyle, he's constantly stressed. wants everything to be perfect for you and soon to be little one.

always has his eye on you, just like he does all his men. there's nothing he doesn't see or already knows about. honestly, may even spot a bad apple before you do. won't even bother with politeness and will shoo them away before their hand(s) even make contact with your tummy.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ SIMON

⌞ he was already protective enough before you got pregnant, but he's at a whole new level now. practically a full-time security guard by the time you reach your third trimester. ESPECIALLY when you two find yourselves out and about — which isn't often.

on the off chance that you're at some sort of gathering with simon, he's at your side no matter what. eyeing every person who approaches you, only chiming in when spoken to, out of mere courtesy. as soon as you give him any inkling of discomfort, he's asking you if he should go start the car.

one thing he hasn't gotten used to yet is the touching. how people often belaud pregnant women. cross boundaries constantly to get a feel of them and their bellies. it's already hard enough getting the man to relax, but it's hopeless now with all the new people he "needs" to keep an eye on. it's not a matter of him catching someone touching your belly; he'll already be standing there most likely. glares, huffs, will certainly go as far as removing their hand if it lingers long enough.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ SOAP

⌞doesn't see any point in excluding you from functions if you think you can handle them. loves having you on his lap or right beside him when he's out, even in pregnancy. as long as you're comfortable and able to signal to him when you're too tired or need something — he's just happy you're there.

most of all, johnny is fiercely protective of the bump. more than he is of you (which is nearly unfathomable, i know). and if there's one thing he loves more than you — it's gushing about you to anyone who'll listen. so, initially, he might not notice someone making you tense while amid his blabbing.

but after so long with him, you've learned to accept the flattery for what it is and remember how easy it is for him to get distracted. a firm squeeze to his hand or a tug to his jacket will do the trick. but once realizes what's happening, he's on it (with his new Dad Speed). finds a way to distract the person and slip you the car keys. promises he'll be out in two minutes to drive you home — and he always is.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ GAZ

⌞ even though he'd prefer you bundled up in bed and waiting for him, kyle still enjoys doing things with you. he definitely gives a wider berth than the other guys, but he's just as vigilant (if not more). he's more subtle about it, if anything.

it isn't just you to protect anymore, it's you and his baby. so, forgive the man for his pinched brows and clenched fists, he's reverted into nothing but a ball of anxiety the further the months progress.

doesn't mind people having a feel of you, usually, when they only mean well (it's typically older ladies anyhow). but sometimes it's a more unsavory interaction; someone who isn't taking any hints, who can't bear to leave the two of you alone. on one hand, gaz understands — an expectant, attractive couple out on a wholesome shopping trip is bound to lure attention. he takes a slower approach, less hostile to avoid upsetting you anyone. brushes it off with an excuse; "oh, love, you got that appointment today, right? don't wanna be late." and then makes his exit, a guiding hand around your waist.⌝

[swordymacaroni]

High School Sweethearts

A/N - I'm sorry I literally typed this up at an award ceremony don't hate on me.

You flung the pencil at Ghost. "Dork. " He caught it midair, throwing you a scalding glance. "Nerd. " You leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Idiot. " It was as if you were daring him to retort. He took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. "Stupid. " You tugged him forward by the hem of his mask and kissed the cloth where the tip of his nose would be. "Mine. " And he'd never blushed harder in his life.

[k-yujin]

❂ ⠀﹒ ⠀ ➣ ⠀ （⭒ ˘˘） 🐾 ⠀ ⠀ ⏖

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ Hidden Eyes — “Stop trying to deny it. You must understand that rest is essential to every form of life. You are no exception.” Jiaoqiu x GN reader.

Word count: 1.8k

Contains: Jiaoqiu x GN reader, fluff, subtle jealousy, protective Jiaoqiu (in a good, non-toxic way!), light teasing, clingy Jiaoqiu, kisses, long cuddles, Jiaoqiu taking care of reader, + more!

Rousing from your slumber with a pounding headache, you sit up in the unfamiliar environment and groan. No matter what you do to recall your previous whereabouts nothing comes to mind. A knitted blanket covers you, and your head is propped against a plush pillow. After batting your lashes a few times to clear the haze cast over your eyes, you are able to make out that you’re inside a living space of some sort. 

Overhearing the shuffling in the other room, Jiaoqiu turns the heat down on the stove and saunters into your view, an apron snugly tied around his slim figure. He greets you with his usual friendly smile, now approaching your resting body. Crouching down, he presses his hand to your forehead, his tail swaying slowly behind. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop over-exhausting yourself?” He feigns disappointment, letting his breath breeze down onto your face.

“I haven’t done anything to be exhausted.” 

“Stop trying to deny it. You must understand that rest is essential to every form of life. You are no exception.”

“But—”

“I ordered you to stay in bed and you go out on a date the next day. Don’t be ignorant.” He opens his eyes, glaring at you while his lips remain in that pleasant expression. Though his smile seems sweet, his gaze is a threat.

“A date?” You raise a brow, unaware you had gone out with another person, let alone left your house this morning. 

“Hm?” Jiaoqiu cocks his head to the side, tapping his index finger against your cheek. “You don’t remember?”

“No. Who was I—”

“Never mind.” Jiaoqiu drags out his speech, squishing your face before standing up straight. “Your soup should be done!”

Jiaoqiu had always had an unsettling energy around him. Upon meeting him a few months ago, you had noticed his strange behaviour patterns, though no one else did. It may just be in your head; you have a common issue with judging new people in your life too harshly. Trusting a stranger takes a lot of effort, but since becoming acquainted with Moze, you realise that the image you crafted of Jiaoqiu may be a spout of nonsense. He has nothing bad to say about him, he praises his work ethic and commitment. For someone who always presents himself so content, there must be some facade in place.

It didn’t take long for you to become friends with both men. They were welcoming and extremely kind; even Feixiao had surprised you with her demeanour behind closed doors. Knowing you have a group of people to fall back on when things get rocky is reassuring. Having a person like Jiaoqiu in your life is a bigger benefit than it is a drawback. Your health is his main concern, making it clear that it should always be your priority above all else. It’s a topic he doesn’t deal with lightly. 

With the steaming bowl of soup in hand, Jiaoqiu returns to his living space and kneels beside you. When you went to free your arms from the swaddle you’re in, he held you down, shaking his head. Raising the soup spoon, he brings it towards your lips, waiting for an opening. 

“I’ll do this since you can’t follow simple instructions.” His tone was snappy, his ears flopping down while he rubbed the spoon against your closed lips. The smell of the soup was enticing, prepared to the standard of all of his other meals. 

“I can feed—”

When you opened your mouth wide enough, he inserted the spoon and dumped the liquid in, grinning at you when you swallowed it. Since you are too tired to protest, you accept defeat and comply with his demands, drinking the soup as he feeds it to you.

“Is it tasty?” Jiaoqiu rubs his thumb over the small spill travelling down your jaw, licking the remnants from his fingers.

“It’s nice. You already know that.”

“The chef appreciates your compliments.” Jiaoqiu hums, stroking your face with two fingers.

Whether it be the heat of the soup or the tenderness in his touch, you felt yourself becoming warm. You began squirming under the blanket, the bowl of soup almost empty. After the final few spoonfuls, he places the leftovers on the coffee table and takes you into his arms. You whine, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I know. You’ll be in bed soon.” He speaks quietly, trekking up the stairs and pushing his bedroom door open with his back.

Lowering you carefully, he lies you on the mattress and covers you over with the duvet. Undoing the bow on his apron, he tosses it into the laundry basket and climbs in beside you. Dragging you over, he wraps an arm around you and holds you in his embrace, his tail brushing up and down your leg in a soothing motion.

“Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you. We’ll see how you are in the morning.” His lips are pressed against your neck when he talks, the movement almost feeling as though he is pampering you with tender kisses. Perhaps he was, but you don’t feel the need to raise attention to it when it feels so good. Within seconds, you fall back into a deep slumber. 

With your droopy head hanging low, he supports you with an arm and wraps himself around you, burying his nose into your flesh. Jiaoqiu loved your scent. It bothers him when you’re away for too long, always lingering on his mind. No matter what he does to replicate it, he can’t craft it to perfection. Burning different candles, sniffing perfumes you use—anything he could think of led to failure. It would explain why he’s been lingering around for longer than he would usually. 

While his recent observations have been unknown to you, it grew increasingly harder for him to leave you alone. He would never want to scare you by admitting all of this—none of his actions carry ill intent. He simply believes you wouldn’t understand his reasoning due to you being human.

It was when you were at the food market that he noticed a shift in your scent. A smell of death. The day prior, you had received a rough blow to the head in battle which had left you tremendously dizzy. It took you two hours to stand, and even then you were still clinging onto his clothes for support. He gave you medicine and advice which seemed to go in one ear and slip out of the other. While with the dark-haired man who was accompanying you, you stumbled backwards and collapsed to the ground before he could catch you. That’s when Jiaoqiu decided to reveal himself from the shadows and usher you back to safety.

That barely present beat of your pulse was something he’ll never forget. He should’ve known you wouldn’t take your medicine; you’re usually one to forget things like that. You were ice cold in his arms, fingernails darkening to an almost navy shade. Seeing corpses was not uncommon, but seeing your corpse was something he knew he wouldn't be able to handle. He just wishes that you’d listen to him. While he’s not angry at you, it still upsets him that you disregard your health so easily like that. The warmth you radiate now brings him comfort; he keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, waiting there as time ticks throughout the evening.

Unsure of how many hours have gone by, you stretch out your legs and reach to rub your eyes, only to find another hand with its fingers linked between yours. Jiaoqiu’s soft breathing was directly down your ear, his hand squeezing yours as he mumbled something barely audible. You knew Jiaoqiu was touchy, but the position you found yourself in made you flustered. 

“Morning…” He whispers, kissing the side of your face. His voice was raspy and his tail was still brushing against your skin.

“How long was I out?”

“Nearly eight hours. You slept through the entire night.” Even though you’re conversing, he doesn’t release you from the cuddle he trapped you in.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“To you? Yesterday?”

“Yes. Why am I here?”

“Mm, I saw you unconscious at the food market. Your dark-haired friend didn’t know what to do with you, so I told him I’d handle it.”

“Dan Heng?”

“How could I forget?” Jiaoqiu responds, his voice laced with sarcasm while he pulls you close. “I’ve heard a lot of that name from you.”

“Well, he—”

“I wasn’t asking to hear more.” Jiaoqiu nips you with his canines, earning a small yelp. “What I want to know is why you didn’t take your medicine. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“I was going to take it when I got back home from shopping…”

“No. You take it at the time I tell you to. There are reasons behind it.”

“Did I make you mad?”

“I’m not angry; I was worried about you. I’m tired of seeing you push yourself to the side. You’re just as important as anyone else in your life. Other people can wait when you need to put your health first.”

His chest falls as he exhales, hurling you upwards to rest his lips on the top of your head. 

“All I want you to do is listen. I’m not yelling at you.”

“I’ll listen. I promise.” You smile at him, watching as he closes his eyes from the relief of hearing those words. “You’re awfully clingy today.”

“I can’t help it. You made me sick with nerves; my emotions are not behaving as they should be.”

“Besides…” Jiaoqiu trails off, redirecting the topic of conversation. “If you’re going out for food, just come to me instead. I have the superior options.”

“You just want me to be around you so you can make sure I’m okay.”

“Is that such a bad thing? I thought you’d appreciate the fact I care for your well-being. And for your knowledge,” Jiaoqiu leans his face closer to yours, “I would’ve caught you before you hit the ground. Foxian reflexes are like no other.”

He pouts before connecting his lips with yours, sharing a brief peck momentarily until he backs off. His thumb rubs under your lower lip, his eyes widening as he sees your smile grow. Repositioning himself, he pushes down on you and engulfs you in his desire with another kiss.

It was both fiery and packed with raw emotion, his trembling hand stroking your cheek. You have no idea about the amount of dire situations you wind up in, but those near-death moments are something that will forever haunt him. As the kiss breaks, you feel his tail batting against your leg rapidly, his ears twitching from thrill. 

“I have some more medical advice. Are you going to listen to it this time?”

“Tell me.”

“Based on my judgement, I think it would be best if you stayed here and got proper rest for the next few days. Cancel your plans and let me take care of you. You’ll be better before you know it.”

“You cancel for me.” You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, “Hearing a doctor’s note directly from the source would cut the hassle.”

[starkeyvhs]

wrong number

PAIRING: rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: your love life had some major updates but you ended up calling the wrong person for it (or maybe it was the right person all along?)

WORD COUNT: 938

WARNINGS: none?? just frat rafe, and shy reader

EDITH SPEAKS: this is such a random idea I had 😭 with the lack of my updates on my blog at the moment combined with my writers block, this is the best I can give you right now :’) if you like reading this, please reblog and share any feedback you may have 🍙

masterlist / join my taglist / requests

“You won’t believe this, I swear you won’t!”

Huh?

Rafe brings down the phone from his ear, looking at the screen. Yeah, it’s definitely you, and you’ve never called him before to say something like this.

He attempts to say something, but before any words can leave his parted lips, you speak again. 

“God Sarah, it was crazy! Can’t believe you didn’t come to school today,”

Oh, so you wanted to call Sarah and not him. Rafe attempts to speak again but your train of words cuts him right off. 

“It was his match today, and god, he looked so good!” You sigh. “He looked just like a dream, I swear, and that last jump shot was so good! He’s made to be on the court I’m telling you Sar. Everyone says he’s the best captain the school team’s had so far.” 

Basketball team captain. 

So you’re talking about him.

Rafe’s lips remain parted as he listens to you speak on and on about him, and a small smirk curves his lips as he hears you rant. 

“And then, after the match, the entire team was celebrating in the cafeteria and I went there too and he saw me!” A small, elated scream erupts your lips. 

Rafe can’t help but silently chuckle at your words as he leans against the wall of his room, his ears only focused on what you’ve got to say about what happened at the cafeteria between you two. 

“And when he saw me, for a second I froze. Completely. But then he smiled at me and he winked at me, can you believe it!” Another elated scream leaves your lips, causing him to silently laugh again. 

Rafe has seen you around his house since you both were kids. The tight knit friendship of you and Sarah meant you hung out at Tanneyhill often. 

Were you ever subtle about your crush on him? 

You thought you were, but Rafe can provide you with over a hundred instances which prove you certainly weren’t. 

“He winked at me, and I swear my heart almost stopped!” You sigh, and Rafe can hear some rustling from your end of the phone; as you probably shift your posture on your bed. 

“Can you believe it, Sar? Rafe motherfuckin’ Cameron winked at me. And I know what you’re probably thinking. ‘He’s my brother ew don’t talk about him that way.’” You say, imitating Sarah’s voice, which causes Rafe to let out a silent chuckle. “But I don’t care if he’s your brother Sar. He winked at me! That’s insane dude, absolutely insane. He’s so amazing ugh and so perfect Sar, really,” 

You finally seem to take a breather, the voice on Rafe’s other end going silent as your breathing sounds through the microphone. 

And Rafe is quick to grab the moment. 

“I’m that amazing huh?” Comes out his voice, laced with complete cockiness, and you can hear the pride in his voice, can practically make out that irritatingly perfect smirk on his face. 

The line on the other side goes completely silent, your breathing not audible anymore either. Rafe just can imagine the look of shock on your face as you realise you’ve been ranting not to Sarah, but to Rafe himself.

“Uh– Rafe, uh… hey,” your voice comes out as a stutter, completely shaken with anxiety. Rafe knows you’re attempting so hard to hide that stutter from your voice, to seem as if you’re completely cool with this when you most certainly are not. 

Rafe can see two ways from here; first is he goes easy on you, understands how petrifying it is for you that you just practically confessed everything to him. 

Or, he can tease you. 

And Rafe certainly sees more fun in the second one. 

“Tell me how amazing you think I am,” he says, and that smirk on his face only increases more and more. “I wanna hear it once again,”

The way the line goes silent once again – Rafe just knows the impact his words are having over you. 

“Uh–” He can hear the way your words lodge in your throat, nothing completely articulated. He can just imagine how heated your cheeks must be from the embarrassment of being caught and then being put directly on the spot. “I’ll– I’ll talk to you later Rafe–”

“Aw come on, where are you going now?” He chuckles, shaking his head at your attempt to avoid the conversation. 

“I just… I’m kinda busy so–”

“No no just,” he takes a deep breath, his smirk now converting to a soft smile. “Just listen to me for a moment, yeah?”

It’s completely silent for a moment, but then a small ‘what?’ is heard from the other end. 

“If you give me the chance, I would love to take you out.” His voice is smooth just like butter, not a single stutter in the way he talks. “You free this Friday?”

The line goes silent for another moment. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m free,” your voice is low and soft, and Rafe knows how hard you’re trying to keep the pure elation out of your voice. 

“Okay,” he grins. “I’ll pick you up at 8 on Friday. It’s a date.” 

“Yeah, a date,” you mumble quietly. 

Rafe’s about to end the call, but he stops himself to say one last thing to you. 

“Oh, and make sure you call Sarah after this and not me, yeah? You’d probably wanna tell her everything.”

And without hearing your reply, but a clear picture of your heated cheeks and flustered expressions in his mind, Rafe cuts the call with the biggest grin on his face. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewsonlyaurelia

tagging some moots: @runningfrom2am / @zyafics / @ilyrafe / @ladyinbl00d / @mileyraes

[fear-is-truth]

Sukuna doesn’t believe in love. To him, it’s a frivolous notion—a human weakness he’s long since eradicated. He’s slaughtered countless sorcerers, laid waste to armies, and crushed those who dared to challenge him underfoot.

The Sun, Moon, and Stars squad and the Five Empty Generals—once revered as the most elite—all reduced to ash by his hand, their powers and pride meaningless against his might. Nothing could hold his interest for long, no one could entertain him beyond the fleeting thrill of their destruction.

So when you arrived, draped in silk kimonos that fluttered like delicate petals, he was certain you’d be just another fleeting indulgence. A concubine, a temporary amusement to sate his carnal desires until the inevitable boredom set in. He’s had many before you, each more beautiful than the last, and he’s discarded them all without a second thought.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Yet, as the days bleed into nights and the moon rises and falls countless times, he finds himself lingering in your presence longer than intended. He watches the way you move with grace, each step carefully measured, your hands folding fabric or pouring tea with an elegance that comes so naturally. You’re unlike the others who have come and gone, offering themselves to him with trembling hands and downcast eyes. You don’t flinch under his gaze, don’t cower at his touch.

It should irritate him—this insolence, this challenge—but it doesn’t. It fascinates him.

One night, as you sit beside him, the flickering glow of the candles highlights the delicate features of your face, creating an almost ethereal radiance. Sukuna observes you in silence, the subtle slope of your nose and the soft curve of your lips. That’s when he realises with a bitter taste in his mouth that he’s been wrong. He hasn’t grown tired of you at all. If anything, his obsession has deepened to a point that borders on madness. You’ve become more than just a passing fancy—something more dangerous, more insidious.

Sukuna doesn’t believe in love, but he knows desire, and the way you’ve consumed him is something far more powerful than he anticipated. He knew he should sever it now, rid himself of the weakness you represent.

But he doesn’t. He won’t. He can’t.

Instead, he watches you in the dim light, eyes tracing the curves of your body beneath the silk, and feels a rare stir of something deep in his chest. He’s certain of many things, but this… this he did not foresee. And as much as he wants to deny it, a part of him knows that he’ll never tire of you.

Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

• a/n: english is not my first language, kindly ignore the grammatical errors

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[loveisunison]

🌻 Reminder for older self shippers (and anyone who relates, really) !! Your f/o will never shame you for liking and/or wanting to buy things that are deemed "childish."

You want games? Your f/o will play with you or watch you play!

You want plushies? Your f/o will love them all as much as you do, and they'll be overjoyed to learn all their names if they have any!

You want toys? Your f/o will go to the store with you and help you pick the best ones! 

Anything else that people may associate with kids? Your f/o won't unless you ask them to! 

They won't ever think you're childish or stupid for wanting these things; they won't view it as "wasting money" or an irresponsible purchase, and they won't make you feel guilty for it.

Your darling loves seeing you happy, and anything that helps with that is worth it for them !!

[ariesangelxo]

mornings - part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol

an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3

part three

the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.

this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.

she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.

you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.

"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.

"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.

you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.

"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."

"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.

you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"

sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."

you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.

"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."

you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.

you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.

“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.

“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”

“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”

“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.

“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.

“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”

you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.

“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.

you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”

she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”

after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.

you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.

the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.

you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.

you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.

“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.

you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”

“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.

you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.

rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”

your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.

you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.

“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.

you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.

“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”

“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”

your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.

rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.

when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.

“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”

“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.

“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”

rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.

when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.

rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”

everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.