#Him and his cool sun top!

[thereseuwu]

Wawawawa, drew Apollon instead of doing my school work (It do be like that dkjasfds.) Also, drawing Apollon in a somewhat more modern time is fun! :^)))) (Idk, man... Idk)

[sun-stricken]

Hello. I absolutely love your Fairy Tail head-canons, especially about demon slayer Gray. Feel free to take or leave these little ideas. Always love when you post <3

~

Imagine Team Natsu has to rent a vehicle or something and they require actual legal paperwork like a birth certificate and address or something like that (more than just “guild business! Gonna need this!”). Lucy doesn’t want to rent it because there is no way she’s going to be responsible for the inevitable damage. Erza, being the leader and a good friend volunteers. A few minutes later she comes back out, puzzled.

Erza: “why would they need a birth certificate? Shouldn’t me being present be proof enough of my existence?”

Gray starts snickering in the background. Natsu goes in next but comes out even earlier than Erza, cause at least Erza had a probably legal address at Fairy Hills, Natsu on the other hand lives in a house in the woods.

By the time Wendy goes in the receptionist is exasperated. “Yes I understand you are with Fairy Tail but that isn’t until page three of the paper work. None of you have made it past the first page.”

Gray finds this all very amusing.

Lucy: “Since you find it so amusing why don’t you go register, Gray!?”

Gray: mutters something

Natsu: “What do you mean you’re legally dead?!”

Cause you know, Ur just found a kid (the only survivor) and just decided to keep him. Oh, no official rescue crews didn’t show up until two days later? My kid now :)

The search and rescue teams never found any survivors in Gray’s old town so everyone was pronounced dead. The magic council or whoever is in charge of that stuff is also disorganized enough that no one realized that Gray Fullbuster is both a famous wizard and supposedly dead. So, just, Gray technically being considered legally dead the entire time he was at Fairy Tail.

~

Also, the slayers all going out on a job together(the dragon slayers had to drag Gray). The job turns out to be a trap (surprise!) and the floor just opens up revealing a giant vehicle.

Dark mage: “Ha-ha! I have bested the dragon slayer! The most powerful mages-“spots Gray just chilling, perfectly fine and not motion sick. “what are you doing?” Cause the guy was planning to capture dragon slayer, not whatever a demon slayer was (the dark mage didn’t even know demon slayers were a thing). Gray defeats the dark mage but holds it over Natsu’s head for a week.

After that anytime a large group of dragon slayers takes a job together they take Gray along for “extra security during transportation” or just extra security in general.

I also head-canon that each type of slayer magic has its own unique weakness. Dragon slayers get severely motion sick. God slayers are claustrophobic. Demon slayers cannot handle sweets. If Gray gets even a whiff of cake or any other dessert his gag reflex acts up and he gets really nauseous and other stuff like that. He of course hid it at first (he was afraid Erza would disown him) but eventually everyone learned about the weakness of demon slayers. Natsu teases him about it but never pushes it too far to the point of accidentally making Gray really sick.

Anyways, sorry for the long ask. Feel free to expand on anything. Always love some good slayer bonding head-canons and just Fairy Tail head-canons in general. <3

This was so much fun to make tbh so domt apologize, i love long asks <3 and thank for for what you said ant my posts! theyre fun to make so im glad ppl enjoy them

Oh, you have no idea how often ive though about Gray being legally dead, my personal favorite scenario is him trying to fix it and prove himself alive but cant

“How the fuck would i know my social security number??? i was eight years old! i had no reason to know!!!”

There was no dna or finger-print records of him or his family so he couldn’t prove it that way either. Apparently, declaring someone born or dead is easier than someone ‘resurrected’. To the law Gray of Isvan is dead and although Gray of Fiore bares similarities, they are two different people.

But ALSO to the law Gray of Fiore doesnt exist bc he has no birth certificate. And while hes adamant, he has no real proof beyond his word he is Gray Fullbuster of Isvan.

So basically, According to the law, Both Gray Fullbuster of Isvan and Fiore are dead and never existed, respectively.

tbh this sounds like an identity crisis waiting to happen, but what else is new with him

Erza probably tried to fix it after she was told bc she legally didnt exist for a minute either (never was filed as a real person, she was able to file for a late birth certificate on account that she wasnt claiming to be a ‘separate’ person and also Makarov did it for her) (dont ask why he didnt for Gray, i like plot holes). But quickly realized their situations were very different, him waiting over a decade to check in as a survivor with the proper authorities definitely weakened his case considering he was running around free before he decided he needed a birth certificate.

But hey, as long as he doesn’t need to rent something, or get a license or id, or work somewhere beyond Fairy Tail, or get married, or, god forbid, die again, he should be fine!

i wonder if he would be considered a ‘john doe’ if he actually died again since they have ‘no’ birth records

This also makes games like ‘two truths and a lie’ amazing

“alright so, im legally dead, i legally dont exist, and ive never physically died before” “Gray what the hell do you mean” “Guess the right one and ill tell you” “WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEAN THOUGH??”

i love everything to do with the ‘dragon slayers + gray’ dynamic

‘Extra security’ just turns into Gray babysitting a bunch of rambunctious dragons for hours. seriously, get this guy a reward for how he hasnt killed or maimed any of them yet.

Imagine them trying to convince Gray to walk to their destination instead of taking the train

“Its not that far!!” “its fucking 5 hours by train, How long do you think itll take to walk? Why would even you pick this job if you knew how long the ride would be??” … “nobody looked..” “are you actually serious.” … “oh my fucking god”

and thats the story of how one Demon slayer ended up having to babysit 4 very pitiful looking Fairy Tail Dragon slayers on a train. Dude had to drag them off it once it stopped too.

His side career of ‘Dragon Slayer Babysitter’ only gets harder when they realize holy shit! cold compresses can help nausea! and what do they have? a walking cold compress.

Taking a train trip with them just means second hand nausea AND embarrassment, and absolutely no personal space. A dream come true.

At least he gets to hold it over their heads

Tbh i like the irony of Dragon Slayers being motion sick because, yk, dragons can fly, so my hc for side effects for God Slayers and Demon Slayers were along the same lines

God Slayers being wide open space or flying since Gods are like the epitome of freedom? all knowing and have complete reign over everything, But claustrophobia works so much better for that same reason. It would cause extreme panic and rash decisions

And Demon Slayers was the dark because demons are supposed to be these evil creatures who thrive in the dark n stuff? basically it would send a Demon Slayer into a paranoid spiral.

But sweets being a weakness instead is such a silly thing that im gonna take it and run

Gray never cared for sweets in the first place, gave him a stomachache, but now he has to walk away from Erza mid conversation if she decides to indulge, which is almost everyday. She was absolutely heartbroken and devastated when the weakness was revealed, it was such a dramatic reaction one wouod think she was the one with the new weakness

When Gray pokes fun at Natsus motion sickness he’ll go on about how Gray is gonna have the lamest parties since he cant handle even the smell of sweets, especially cake.

A terrible realization for everyone involved with him, on par with when Gray realized he wouldnt be able to have ice cream comfortably again, thats like a staple for ice mages

heart wrenching, truly

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[bleeding-hart]

some sketches

based on @theicarusconstellation's writing

I keep thinking of details I left out and stuff I need to fix but if I let myself do that I'm going to go insane so we're leaving it at this

Also some Sirius because they're a fucking king and we love them (I very strongly hc them as genderqueer and using any pronouns, but specifically he/they/she/it)

The dress was a bit of a failure but hey it looks like fabric at least I think maybe

[marilynslove]

the face bsf!rafe first made when he saw the bikini picture you posted from your day at the beach

“fuck,” he whimpered softly, jaw slack as he desperately rutted his aching cock into his fist, angry tip leaking with pre-cum as his eyes flickered over the phone screen.

he felt like such a fuckin creep, getting off to his own best friend’s instagram pictures. he couldn’t help it though; not with the way your ass was hanging out of the bottom of your suit, tan lines clearly visible. and most definitely not with the way your tits were spilling out of your bikini top, the wet material clinging onto the soft curves of your breasts.

he couldn’t help but think about what it’d be like to fuck them; his tip coming to barely brush between your lips after every thrust, how he’d make you part your lips and lick at the stickiness that would string off.

“sh-hit,” he moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut and brows furrowing as he picked up his pace, tightening his hand a little - trying to imagine it as you fluttering around him instead.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck, mmmh shit-” he whined, biting down on his lip to quiet himself.

his hand moved frantically for more friction, the cool of the ring on his index finger only bringing more effect to the warm pool in his stomach.

“need it y/n, shiit, wan’ to cum.” he groaned under his breath, his blue eyes opening to look back at your picture. but this time, a small glint in the sun caught his attention.

sitting beautifully on your neck was a gold necklace he had gotten you on your birthday, a little ‘r’ pendant hanging just out of reach from your cleavage. how the fuck did he not notice it before? a flare of possessiveness bloomed in his chest, n he felt the familiar rush of heat course through him.

he came hard, the spurts of slick painting his chest and stomach; his hips stuttering and abdomen flexing.

as he slowly came down from his high, body spent and limp against his mattress, he silently made a decision - he was definitely gonna make you take that post down.

[rin-eko]

Sylus, who doesn't just call you kitten from the start, but also treats you like one. He can't help it. Not when you remind him exactly of a fierce, scraggly stray kitten, hissing and arching its back at him whenever he comes close.

After coming to understand how uncomfortable you felt around him, he decided to adopt a different approach to getting close with you. A less forceful approach- a plan you didn't realise was implemented even when you were finally pliant and comfortable around him like a relaxed fat cat.

He had to coax you, silently and gently encourage you to put away your claws and start trusting him.

When you were at the base and basically sticking to the opposite side of the room as him as if you were glued there, sometimes he'd pretend to be deeply curious about something in front of him, such as a book or artefact, and pretend to pour over it as he clicked his tongue softly.

As expected, and just like a cat, the sound would catch your attention, and when you realised he wasn't making the sound to gain your attention but just casually clicking his tongue because he was interested in something else, you would slowly approach with a little furrow in your brow. He tried not to laugh as you took slow steps around the edge of the room to come closer, you yourself pretending to be interested in other books and things to seem as if you just casually ended up near him, meanwhile you had been eyeing him from the corner of your eye the whole time, little interest in anything else.

Treats. You hadn't though deeply about why Sylus' pantries were stocked with your favourite snacks. After a few visits to his home, you would naturally make your way to the kitchen to grab your favourite treats without a care in the world, happily munching them like a stray cat that had been lured over by temptation.

At the base, you would also be able to find your favourite toys (the cool guns in his armoury) and your favourite games, such as kitty cards. The blankets and pillows in the guest room you stayed in were all made of your favourite soft material, so expensive it felt like sleeping on a cloud. Sylus even tried spraying his cologne in certain areas of the house so you would become accustomed to his scent.

When in his home, Sylus would make sure to give you plenty of alone time while still ensuring you were aware of his presence, so as not to intimidate you but also to make sure you knew he was around if you wanted to approach him.

And you did, sometimes peeping over his shoulder like a curious cat to see what he was doing. Or sitting on the kitchen counter watching him as he cooked. The distance slowly closed before you even realised it. But he knew, and he was torn between smugness and the happy trilling in his heart.

You remained blissfully ignorant as the comforts around you grew. You naturally relaxed into your surroundings and his presence, not even noticing Sylus had planned it this way from the start.

Even now, he watches you- in your own small home this time- lounging on a fluffy, pink bean bag situated in a spot of the living area that catches the sun's soft glows through the window, and can't help but liken you to a cat. Especially when the sun moves through the sky and your eyes crack open, an unhappy frown creasing the top of your nose because you are now in a shady spot and even with a blanket covering you, that will just not do.

He watches you stretch languidly, yawning, before dragging the bean bag to a new patch of sun and once again settling on it, falling into a comfortable nap once more.

He's come from the kitchen, and he approaches you to place a warm cup of tea beside you quietly. One of your eyes peek open to take him in.

"Sylussss," you whine sleepily, rolling onto your back. He squats in front of you and rubs the top of your head.

"Mm?"

You don't say anything else, just falling back into slumber, but he smiles and continues to pat your head. It's something he does often, and he wonders if you even realise that you've come to always expect these head pats, bouncing up to him when you're proud of something you've done and want his praise, waiting for his warm hand to tell you you did well.

Or when the two of you are just relaxing together, sometimes he'll scratch beneath your chin and you'll preen, lips twisting up in contentment and enjoyment, eyes falling shut as you lean toward him for more. You may as well have purred and rubbed against him in silent askance for more.

Of course, if you became aware of the fact he was treating you like a cat, you would start pretending to not like these small affections, so Sylus keeps quiet with his teasing.

Although, he thinks of how cute you'd be, turning away with a pout after discovering he had been treating you like a pet. He could almost see an imaginary tail flicking irritably. Maybe you'd even growl unhappily.

He chuckled quietly. Truly a kitten.

[drewswife]

                                                  Clingy

Summary: Rafe has been clinging to y/n all morning

Contains: s2! Rafe, making out, booty grabs, suggestive

Pairings: soft! Rafe x sweetheart!Y/n

Words:1.5k

The morning sun streamed through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred, blinking sleepily as you became aware of a weight on your chest. You smiled, opening your eyes to find Rafe fast asleep, his arm slung over your waist, his face buried in your neck. His breath tickled your skin, a comforting rhythm against your pulse.

You gently disentangled yourself from his grasp, careful not to wake him. You slipped out of bed, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine. You made your way to the closet, pulling out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. As you dressed, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of Rafe's peaceful slumber. He looked so much younger when he slept, his features softened, his brow unfurrowed.

You tiptoed back to the bed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He stirred, muttering in his sleep, his arm instinctively reaching out for you. You chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you whispered, your voice soft and melodic.

His eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile gracing his lips. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. "Don't leave."

You laughed, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. "I'm not going anywhere," you assured him, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed again. "Stay," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. He sighed contentedly, burying his face in your neck once more. You held him close, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

After a few minutes, he pulled back, his eyes meeting yours. "You smell amazing," he said, his voice a low growl.

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks. "Thanks," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "You know," he said, his voice husky, "I think I might be addicted to you."

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I think I might be addicted to you too," you admitted.

He smiled, pulling you closer into a deep kiss. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips grabbing your ass, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, arching into him. He pulled back, his eyes dark and intense.

"Come on," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Let's go back to bed."

You grinned, following him back to the bed. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He reached up, tangling his fingers in your hair. You leaned down, pressing a series of kisses along his jawline, his neck, his chest. He groaned, his hands tightening around your waist.

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. "I love you," you whispered.

He smiled, his eyes filled with love. "I love you too," he replied, pulling you down for another kiss.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist:@chrislilcumslvt @drewstarkeyzwhore

[creamflix]

𖦏    /mdni: age gap ( gojo is in his 40's, reader is in her 20's as a university student ). swimsuits. lots of chlorine 'n sweat. fingering. scenting [?]. random scene jump since i did not plan this much, sorry ): 

gojo satoru, at the ripe old age of 45, had come to a singular, immutable conclusion about the world: fashion was a godless pit.

he sat in his disgustingly expensive living room, squinting at his phone, trying to make sense of the endless scroll of short skirts, crop tops, and swimsuits that looked more like intricate strings of betrayal than actual clothing. "must be global warming," he muttered aloud, tossing the phone onto the couch beside him. "or everyone's just decided modesty is for losers."

and honestly? he couldn't blame them. if he still had a body like his younger self—taut and reckless and unsullied by the grim ache that came with being halfway to 90—he'd be strutting around in a speedo too. except, even now, he still looked good. better than good. infuriatingly good.

but none of it mattered. people didn’t care about the six-pack or the sharp jawline anymore. no, they cared about what his bank account looked like. how many zeros were tucked neatly behind that '1'.

and then there was you.

sweet, sunny you. who stumbled into his orbit not because of his money or his name, but because you were genuinely stupid enough to think he was funny.

poor thing.

he couldn't let you go after that. decided then and there that he’d keep you—like a pretty bird in a gilded cage, doors always wide open if you ever wished to leave.

but you hadn't. not yet.

and gojo, for all his sins, wasn't a man who believed in wasting miracles.

the front door clicked open, the sharp wet slap! of your flip-flops hitting the marble echoing through the house. he turned lazily towards the sound, propping his head up on the back of the couch, expecting you to look the way you usually did: messy hair, oversized hoodie, probably snacking on something you didn't pay for.

what he did not expect was to see you walk in wearing a swimsuit that looked like it had fought for its life to cover even an inch of you. the university pool's standard issue, right? supposed to be modest?

laughable.

the navy-blue one-piece clung to you like a desperate lover, the material slick and gleaming under the hallway lights, still wet enough to trace the delicate dip of your navel, the teasing slope of your hips.

gojo's breath hitched embarrassingly quick.

he was used to beautiful things. he'd had beautiful things.

but you—flushed from the sun, hair dripping, toes curled against the cold tile—were a whole different breed of temptation. you looked up, saw him staring, and smiled—bright, innocent, with not a damn clue about the fire you were poking at.

"hey, satoru," you chirped, tossing your towel over a chair without a second thought. "the pool was freezing."

your voice was casual, offhanded—as if you weren't currently rewriting every plan he had for the rest of the night.

"freezing, huh?" he echoed, forcing himself to sound normal, even as his eyes tracked a single bead of water sliding slowly down the column of your throat, over your chest, sinking between the soft weight of your breasts.

he swallowed. hard.

you didn't notice.

of course you didn't. you trusted him. believed him harmless, just a lazy old man nursing a midlife crisis and a wallet full of guilt.

"go shower before you catch a cold," he said, voice low, a little rough around the edges.

you pouted—a dangerous, stupid thing to do.

"but i'm so tired..." you whined, dragging yourself closer, so close he could smell the chlorine clinging to your skin. "i just wanna sit down for a bit..."

then, without thinking—without even hesitating—you flopped down beside him, soaking his sweatpants instantly, your thigh pressed against his, warm and soaked.

gojo stiffened like you'd jabbed a knife into him.

play it cool. he told himself. play it cool. be the adult. be the—

you shifted, your hip rubbing his with a casual intimacy that stripped the last ounce of patience he had left. his hand twitched, almost reaching out to grab your waist, to yank you into his lap where you fucking belonged—

but he stopped himself. barely. instead, he turned his head to you, a slow, sly smile tugging at his lips.

"you know," he drawled, voice darkening, "you keep dangling yourself in front of me like this, and one of these days, i might just take you up on it."

your eyes widened—not scared, not angry—just startled. maybe a little curious.

and that's when gojo knew he had you.

the tension was thick enough to choke on now, a crackling heat in the air between you. you weren't moving away. you weren't scrambling for distance. you were waiting.

gojo's fingers brushed against your bare thigh, featherlight, as he tilted his head, studying you like something delicate he was about to devour.

he likes to think of himself as a patient man.

he waited out assassination attempts, board meetings—hell, he even waited thirty whole years for someone to finally invent a decent low-fat ice cream. but this? this stupid, stubborn, university-issued swimsuit? this was testing his goddamn limits.

"modern fabric technology my ass," he hissed under his breath, thumbs digging uselessly against the slick material clinging to your skin like a second, infuriatingly sexy layer. it squelched wetly when he tried to peel it back— squelch! —snapped aggressively when he yanked a little too hard— snap!

you let out a soft, startled whimper at the noise, your hands flinching to your sides, clearly unsure if you were supposed to help or apologize.

and the worst part? every time the fabric stretched and snapped, it pulled at your body, hugging even tighter to the soft curves he was desperate to get his mouth on.

"it's like fighting a fucking sea monster," gojo muttered, half to himself, half into the crook of your neck, where he was already nuzzling shamelessly, breathing in the dizzying mix of chlorine, shampoo, and something sweetly, deliciously you.

you laughed, breathy and nervous, squirming against him—and jesus, the way the motion made your hips rock against his thigh—

it was a miracle he didn't just lose it then and there.

he got a good grip on you, finally, hands spanning your waist like he was meant to hold you. hoisting you up was embarrassingly easy, your thighs falling open around one of his, your bare skin sticking to his sweatpants with a nasty little schlck!

"there we go," he purred, voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble, the vibrations making you shiver in his arms. "nice and easy, baby. just sit pretty for me."

you bit your lip, eyes wide and glassy, and that look alone—trusting, needy—made his cock throb almost violently against the confines of his pants.

but there was still the matter of the swimsuit.

gojo growled under his breath, fighting the urge to just rip it in half, consequences be damned. instead, he reached between your legs, fingers tugging at the soaked crotch area, trying to pull it aside—

useless. it snapped right back into place every damn time, slapping wetly against your folds in a way that made your whole body twitch and whimper.

"hold it," he ordered finally, voice sharp enough to cut through your foggy little brain. "c'mon, baby. use those pretty fingers. hold it open for me."

your cheeks flushed bright red, but you obeyed, trembling hands slipping down, pinching the slippery fabric to the side with a soft squelk! that sent another thick wave of your scent flooding the air between you.

gojo's mouth actually watered.

he leaned down just a bit, the barest hint of wetness already slicking your thighs. "fuck," he whispered reverently, his fingers tracing the delicate, soaked folds, barely touching, making you whine and jerk in his hold. "all that for me, huh? you don't even know what you do to me, baby..."

and oh, he tasted it, tasted you in the heavy, wet air—salty with chlorine, sweet with your arousal, and something so devastatingly you that he knew he'd be a fucking addict after one taste. he grinned against your skin, wicked and slow.

"better hold it reaall tight, sweetheart," he warned, thumb dragging lazily up your slit, slicking through the mess you were already making. "because once i start, i don't think i'm gonna be polite about it."

your answering whimper, small and broken, was the last little crack his restraint needed. he shifted you higher on his thigh, grinding you down against the hard muscle, making you gasp and cling to him, your wet cunt dragging sloppy little circles against the rough fabric of his pants. the obscene sounds filled the room, bouncing off the marble walls, mixing with your breathless moans and his low, guttural praise. gojo watched you unravel, watched the way your thighs trembled and your hands slipped, struggling to keep the suit out of the way.

and when you finally looked at him, eyes pleading, mouth trembling, body so soft and willing in his hands—

he knew tonight, he wouldn't be letting you go until you learned exactly what kind of man you had decided to stay with.

it should've been criminal, honestly. but it was almost funny, in a pathetic, cosmic way—

someone like you, perched so innocently on his lap, trembling and squirming with every ruthless thrust of his fingers—while he sat back against the couch, loose-limbed and panting, looking every bit the man who had lost his mind over some university brat. 

the great gojo satoru, clan head, most powerful man alive, reduced to a panting, desperate mess, all because of you. 

he looked absolutely deranged like this, mouth open, tongue dragging up the inside of your neck with the clumsy enthusiasm of a dog who didn’t know any better, lapping at the traces of chlorine and sweat with wet slck! sounds that made your toes curl.

his fingers—god, those fingers—were pistoning into you with brutal precision, slick squelches schlk! schlk! filling the too-big, too-quiet living room, so much wetter than even he could've hoped for. he meant well, he swore he did—even as he crooked his fingers cruelly, dragging hard against the spot inside you that made you seize and sob, the obscene squelch of your cunt tightening around him egging him on without mercy.

"fuckin' hell, baby," gojo slurred against your neck, voice dripping wet with awe and hunger, "you’re makin' such a mess... you’re gonna short-circuit the damn couch." he buried his face closer, nosing at the twitching pulse of your neck, inhaling deep, shaking with the effort to not just bite down into your tender skin like some starved beast.

the smell was devastating—chlorine sharp, but overpowered by your sweet, rich sweat, thick and heady in the air until it felt like he could taste it just by breathing.

but breathing wasn’t enough. it was never gonna be enough.

your swimsuit was a pathetic little thing now, pulled aside and barely hanging onto your hip, the fabric dark and glistening where it clung to your slick skin. every messy thrust of his fingers into your tight little cunt made the ruined elastic snap! wetly against your thigh, a constant, obscene slck, schlck! filling the room like background music to your ragged little gasps. gojo could feel every twitch, every desperate little clench around his fingers—long, calloused from years of pointless paperwork and weaponized now for one thing only: you.

he should’ve been embarrassed, really, with how hard he was throbbing in his pants, with how shamelessly he was rutting his own hips up into the curve of your ass, grinding helplessly against you like a teenager—but how could he care, when you were making those pretty, broken little noises for him?

“baby, you’re fuckin’ floodin’ me,” he drawled, voice hoarse, breath ghosting over your shoulder. his forehead pressed to your temple, damp with sweat, catching the faint smell of chlorine and your syrupy sweat clinging to your skin. “keep squeezin’ me like that, i might just start cryin'.”

your clit, swollen and neglected, brushed against the heel of his palm with every roll of his hand, sending violent little shudders through your whole frame. you whined, high and desperate, hands scrabbling uselessly at the thick fabric of his shirt, trying to find something, anything, to hold onto.

and fuck, if that didn't make him feral.

his thigh bounced under you with every sharp, merciless thrust, jostling your whole body in rhythm to the wet sounds of his fingers driving deeper, curling viciously inside you. the couch creaked softly under the growing violence of it—the smell of sweat, chlorine, and sex practically boiling in the air. you tried to hold the swimsuit aside again, fumbling with clumsy fingers, but you were too far gone—the slick fabric snapped back snap! against your folds, making you jolt and keen, forcing more slick to gush out around his knuckles with a lewd, messy schlck!

“aww, you’re tryin’ so hard,” he crooned mockingly, hips grinding up sharper beneath you, forcing his fingers impossibly deeper. “poor baby... can't even keep your little swimsuit outta the way for me,” he rasped, his free hand coming up to palm at your lower belly, pressing down firmly to feel every obscene squelch of his fingers plunging in and out, deeper and deeper, mixing the chlorine with the thick, syrupy gush of your cum.

you whimpered something weak and unintelligible, legs trembling, your whole body sagging against him—and god, the way you soaked him, smearing slick across his hand, his pants, the insides of your own thighs—it was filthy. so stupidly filthy he was seeing white at the edges of his vision.

he flexed his fingers again, grinding the rough heel of his palm against your throbbing clit, relishing the squelch! that answered him, feeling your cunt spasm wildly around him. "c'mon, sweetheart," he murmured, voice pure sin against your ear, "show me what you got. make a mess for me, yeah? ‘m not stoppin’ till you do."

and judging by the way your body was already locking up in his arms, teetering on the edge, shaking like a leaf—he knew you were gonna give it to him, sooner rather than later. you’d have no choice. not when he had you like this—wrecked, whining, split open on his hand with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to even think except for how good it felt to let him ruin you.

yeah, this swimsuit? he was keeping it. it was practically soaked in you already, the sharp smell of chlorine completely overwhelmed by the pure, sticky, sweet scent of your cunt. he grinned against your skin, tongue flicking lazily at your neck just to hear the way you choked on your own moan, body stiffening, that pretty belly flexing under his hand.

"fuck, angel," he whispered, voice all cracked and reverent, "you were made to ruin me, huh?"

and ruin him you would—because even now, even with your thighs trembling and your voice breaking, you were still grinding desperately against him, chasing after the pleasure only he could give, greedy and glistening and so fucking beautiful he could barely see straight.

he’d drag you down with him, into this filthy little hell he was building with his hands and mouth, and he wouldn’t let you go till you forgot there was ever a world outside this house.

[a-hermit-pining]

Making Up with LaDS Men

AN: So soft. Ugh, I love them so much.

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Ingredients: 95% fluff, 5% angst.

My Fav: Rafayel's was the one that made me write this but Caleb is pretty nice too, if I must say so myself.

Rafayel:

He stares out his window and finds you perched on the pavement. In the rain. Right beneath his window, waiting for him to look.

And when he does, he nearly trips in his rush to get to you. He’s exasperated. Worried. And irrevocably touched.

By the tides, love made idiots of you both.

It had started as an argument about dishes. But it spiraled, into fights about living together, into complaints about time, into accusations about waiting too long, loving too little.

Until you finally stormed out, leaving behind one very outraged, very wounded fish. “Truth is, you’ll never choose me. Not even at the cost of my soul.”

He had yelled it at your retreating back. And he hated how hard he had to dig for words that would hurt. Hated how good he was at choosing the cruel ones. How stupid it was, wanting to wound you before you could wound him.

And when the tempers cooled and silence set in, you returned. But the door was locked.

So you sat outside, holding a bunch of slightly wilted flowers. And you waited. You waited until the sun disappeared. Until the clouds rolled in. Until the rain began to fall.

You stayed there, below his window. Because you knew how much your beloved fish loved the smell of petrichor. The scent of the world right after it breaks.

You wait, not as long as him, never that much but enough to make his heart melt.

Xavier:

He doesn’t stay mad for long. You know that. He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t slam doors. Doesn’t lash out. But when the fight ends, if it can even be called a fight, he just... gets quiet. And that silence feels heavier than anger ever could.

He still makes your tea the next morning. Still leaves your charger on your pillow. Still kisses the top of your head before leaving for work. But he doesn’t hold your gaze. Not the way he usually does. Not for long.

So you show up that night with his favorite takeout. The kind that makes his shoulders drop the second he smells it. You light a candle, put on that playlist you both pretend not to love, and pull him gently into your lap when he walks in.

He lets you.

You wrap your arms around him. You kiss his cheek. His temple. The corner of his mouth. Soft, lingering things.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

His voice is muffled, face tucked into your shoulder. “I know you are.”

You press your forehead to his. “But are we okay?”

He hesitates. Just for a breath. Then nods. “We’re okay,” he says. “I just, sometimes I wish you’d come back sooner. I miss you too fast.”

You close your eyes and squeeze him a little tighter. “You’re allowed to be upset, you know. You don’t always have to hold it in.”

He gives a quiet laugh, “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But if I hold onto it, I lose time. Time I’d rather spend like this.”

Zayne:

BAKE. HIM. SWEETS.

He’s not the one to start arguments, he rarely even realizes they’ve become arguments until they’re over. Too real, too blunt, too logical for his own good. So most fights leave him confused at first... and horrified once he understands he’s the reason you walked away upset.

And if you’re the one feeling bad? Baking is the way.

This man is powerless against soft banana bread and sincere apologies. Bring him a tray of kiss-me brownies, what-are-we cinnamon rolls, or a marry-me pie, and suddenly he’s the most forgiving man alive.

Drop by hospital with a wrapped container, and you’ve won.

The moment he sees you standing outside his office, holding Tupperware and fidgeting like you might flee, he’s already smiling.

He’s a big fan of how you tailor everything for him. How you swap sugar for dates. Add protein. Use almond flour because “it’s good for your brain.”

He won’t even bring up the fight. He’ll sit beside you, still in scrubs, tucking into banana bread like it’s a love letter. And listen as you explain how you got the texture just right.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” you murmur.

“I know,” he says, brushing crumbs from your wrist. “But this banana bread earns you forgiveness. ”

Sylus:

He has not learned to share his pain. It is sharp and biting, searing both you and him. Sometimes, it lashes out hard enough to damage the fragile thing between you.

And he knows it.

He pushes you away, offering you the trigger, daring you to run the bullet through his heart. Because that would be easier than being vulnerable.

So lost is he in his ancient ache that he can’t see clearly anymore. He hides his hurt beneath a cold, cruel mask, like a wounded animal, snapping before it can be touched.

But it’s your gentleness that undoes him.

It’s when you give him nothing but love in return for his lashing, when you reach for him instead of leaving, that he breaks.

Be there for him. Stay. Hold him. Let him fall apart in your arms. Kiss the pain away, slowly, quietly.

He doesn’t need fixing. He needs time. And love that stays soft, even when he can’t.

Caleb:

A grand gesture.

This man is all about belonging. Wanting to be yours. For you to be his. And for the entirety of existence to know it.

The fight had been devastating.

You’d blamed him. Walked out, left him waiting for weeks. No contact. No updates. He couldn’t find you. Didn’t know if you were safe. Didn’t know if you still wanted him.

And when he finally found you again, Caleb had been quiet. Distant.

He didn’t know whether to reach for you or let you go. Didn’t know if you needed him… or needed to be free of him.

So imagine his surprise when he sees you, at the Fleet’s Christmas party. On stage. At the grand piano. In front of everyone.

You don’t speak. You play.

A soft song. Gentle. Hesitant. An apology spun into musical notes. A lullaby between lovers. A plea for forgiveness.

And then, as the music shifts, it becomes the song of Penelope, the woman who waited for Odysseus, year after year, unwavering.

It’s not subtle. It’s not meant to be.

You are declaring yourself his. You are saying it in front of everyone.

And that is what wins him.

Not just the music. Not just the apology. But the audacity of loving him loud, after hurting him quiet.

He watches you under the stage lights, blinking like he’s afraid to breathe. And when the song ends, he doesn’t wait.

He crosses the room, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you like he never wants to stop.

[ivyues]

Sibling Bonds: Stray Kids x Member's sister Scenarios

Bang Chan (Seungmin’s sister)

Chris plopped down beside Seungmin on the practice room floor, immediately draping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a side hug. He rested his chin on Seungmin’s shoulder, swaying them side to side like an over-affectionate puppy.

Seungmin sighed, unimpressed. “What do you want?”

Chris pouted. “Can’t I just love my favorite dongsaeng?”

Seungmin deadpanned. “Hyung, if you think this is gonna make me buy you food, it’s not working.”

Chris grinned but didn’t deny it. “Okay, fine. I need to talk to you.”

Seungmin hummed in response, still scrolling. “We are talking.”

Chris huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. ���It’s about… Y/N.”

That got Seungmin’s attention. He glanced up, one brow raised before giving Chris an irritated look. “Hyung, don’t think I haven’t seen the two of you throwing heart eyes at each other. It’s honestly disgusting.”

Chris groaned, already regretting this. “I just— I like her. But I don’t want you to think I’m overstepping. Like, I’m older, I’m your leader, and I don’t want it to seem like I can just… take what I want.”

Seungmin blinked before letting out an amused chuckle. “Hyung, she’s an adult. She can make her own choices. I don’t have any say in who she dates.”

“I know, but—”

“And I can’t really do anything if she’s into old men.”

Chris’ jaw dropped. “What—?!”

Seungmin shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, you are basically a grandfather. Maybe she likes the ‘experienced’ type.”

Chris groaned, burying his face in his hands as Seungmin laughed. “You’re insufferable.”

Seungmin grinned. “Look, if she likes you and you like her, then just go for it. But don’t come crying to me when she realizes she doesn’t want to date a grandpa.”

Chris scowled. “I love you too, Seungmin.”

Seungmin smirked, unlocking his phone again. “You’re welcome.”

Lee Know (I.N’s sister)

The engine purred as Minho shifted gears, rolling smoothly out of the driveway. The sun was bright, the morning air crisp, and a whole day of plans stretched ahead of him and Jeongin. It wasn’t often that they had time to hang out as just the two of them, so today was supposed to be chill.

Jeongin, sitting in the passenger seat, tapped away at his phone, only glancing up occasionally at the road ahead. That is, until something caught his attention.

In the corner of the passenger seat, nestled between the seat and the door, was a very familiar-looking scrunchie.

His brows furrowed before he reached out and plucked it up between two fingers like it was evidence in a crime scene. “Uh, hyung,” Jeongin said, his tone shifting. “Why is my sister’s scrunchie here?”

Minho didn’t even flinch. “Because she apparently left it,” he said, voice casual as ever, eyes still on the road. He wasn’t about to act guilty over something as harmless as a scrunchie.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes. “When?”

“Last time I drove her,” Minho answered smoothly. Not a lie.

Jeongin leaned back, arms crossed. “So, how often is she in your car, exactly?”

Minho’s lips twitched slightly. “We’ve been dating for a while now. I thought you were cool with it.”

Jeongin scoffed. “I am. But as her brother, I have to make sure you’re treating her right.”

Minho finally turned his head slightly, giving Jeongin an unimpressed look. “You do realize I’m older than you, right?”

Jeongin didn’t back down, only tilting his chin up. “And? That just means I have to watch you even more.”

Minho rolled his eyes, refocusing on the road, but his fingers subtly flexed on the steering wheel. He wasn’t worried about Jeongin’s protective streak – if anything, it was amusing.

Casually, he flicked his gaze up to the rearview mirror. And that’s when he saw it.

In the footwell of the backseat behind Jeongin, barely visible but there nonetheless, was a top. Your top. His fingers tightened just slightly on the wheel as he swallowed, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

The last time he had driven with you… well, let’s just say things had gotten a little heated before you had finally gone inside. And apparently, not all of your clothing had made it back with you.

His foot pressed just a tad heavier on the gas pedal. Maybe if they got to their destination fast enough, your brother wouldn’t have any reason to look back.

Changbin (Han’s sister)

Changbin tapped his pen against his notebook, staring at the half-finished lyrics in front of him. The dim glow of the studio lights flickered against the desk, and the faint hum of an unfinished beat filled the space. Across from him, Han lounged back in his chair, spinning lazily.

“I feel like we should go for something love-related,” Changbin murmured, rubbing his temple. “Like... the excitement of a first date or something.”

Han suddenly sat up straight, eyes widening as if a light bulb had just flicked on above his head. His lips curled into a slow, mischievous grin, and he clapped his hands together with excitement.

“Oh! Oh! Wait, I just got the best idea ever!”

Changbin immediately looked suspicious. “Why do I feel like I'm about to regret this?”

Han practically bounced in his seat. “No, listen! My sister!”

Changbin blinked. “What about her?”

“You should take her on a date!" Han exclaimed, looking way too pleased with himself. “It's perfect!”

Changbin nearly dropped his pen. “What? No. Why?”

Han was already on a roll, his brain working a mile a minute. “It makes so much sense! She hasn’t dated in forever, and she’s been totally unmotivated to put herself out there. She just needs a little push.”

“And that push is me?” Changbin asked incredulously.

Han nodded enthusiastically. “Dude, think about it. You're my best friend, you're cool, responsible, buff—”

“Why do you keep mentioning that?”

“Because it's a selling point!" Han waved his hands around dramatically before grinning wider. “And besides—you're hot, and she's hot! It just makes sense!”

Changbin groaned. “Han, that is not how matchmaking works.”

“Sure it is! Attraction is key,” Han shot back. “Look, she deserves someone awesome, and you’re awesome. Plus, it’d be so fun to play matchmaker. Imagine if it works out? You’d be part of the family!”

Changbin hesitated. “What if it's weird?”

“Only if you make it weird,” Han said with a smug grin. Before Changbin could argue, Han was already whipping out his phone. His fingers flew across the screen, his grin growing wider by the second.

“Wait, what are you—”

Han: Hey, sis. You have a date. No, you don’t get a choice. Be ready tomorrow at 5.

Changbin’s jaw dropped. “Did you seriously just—”

Han locked his phone and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Too late to back out now. You, my friend, are officially dating my sister.”

Changbin groaned, running a hand down his face. “I think she'd like to have a saying in the matter too.”

“Look, you're already talking like a responsible boyfriend,” Han pointed out, absolutely beaming. “You guys will thank me at your wedding.”

Hyunjin (Bang Chan’s sister)

(A/N: this are 2 seperate scenarios that are not connected / have different vibes!)

Hyunjin and you stood near the door of the dorm, ready to head out for your long-awaited date. The relationship was still in its early days, the kind where every little moment felt both exciting and slightly uncertain as you both navigated the newness of it all.

Hyunjin laced his fingers with yours, flashing you a soft smile as you turned back towards the living area. “We’re heading out now,” you announced. “Bye, guys!”

Goodbyes rang out from the dorm – some genuine, some exaggerated just to be annoying.

Just as you were pulling the door closed behind you, your brother’s voice suddenly boomed through the room:

“Have fun, DON'T FORGET TO USE PROTECTION!”

Your breath hitched, fingers freezing on the doorknob. But before you could even react, the door shut completely.

Hyunjin stood frozen beside you, his eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. Meanwhile, your face heated up in embarrassment.

-----

The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you sat across from Chan, absentmindedly stirring your drink. Your brother had practically dragged you out of your apartment, insisting you needed a break from sulking indoors. And honestly? He wasn’t wrong.

“You know,” Chan started, eyeing you over his cup, “I get that you and Hyunjin fought, but locking yourself away isn’t going to fix anything.”

You sighed, staring at the swirling foam in your cup. “I’m not locking myself away,” you muttered.

Chan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve ignored every invite to go out, haven't been responding to messages, and, according to Felix, your social battery is at negative levels.”

You huffed. Felix always had a way of exaggerating.

Chan gave you a knowing look, and you averted your eyes. He didn't push, though. He knew. Of course, he knew. He always knew. Hyunjin was one of his closest friends. And you? You were his little sister. Of course, he noticed how off things had been between you and Hyunjin lately. He didn't bring it up, though, and you were grateful.

Instead, he started talking about something else—his music, the group’s upcoming schedules, something funny Felix had done the other day. You listened, grateful for the distraction, even managing a small smile.

And then Chan’s eyes flickered to your wrist, his words pausing for just a second.

Your bracelet.

You hadn’t even realized you were wearing it until now. It had become almost second nature to have it on—Hyunjin’s gift, the one he had stressed over for weeks, secretly asking Chan for advice on what you'd like best. You had loved it from the moment he gave it to you. It was delicate but strong, simple but elegant, just like the way he saw you.

Chan didn’t say anything right away, but the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “Still wearing it, huh?”

Your fingers automatically traced over the cool metal. “Of course,” you admitted softly.

(A/N: I remembered this scene of a yt image i watched like 5 years ago)

Han (Hyunjin’s sister)

The last thing you expected when Hyunjin invited you to meet some of his group members was to see Han Jisung again.

You had harbored a tiny, innocent crush on him back in their trainee days. Something about his energy, his dorky yet endearing personality, and his talent had always drawn you in. But back then, your brother and Han weren’t exactly close. Their clashing personalities made sure of that.

During that time, you had gone abroad to study, spending years away from your brother and his now-bandmates. 

So, naturally, when Hyunjin casually mentioned that some of his members were coming over to his parent’s house to eat, you didn’t think much of it. You certainly didn’t expect your stomach to twist in nervous excitement when you saw Han standing there in the doorway, looking just as surprised as you felt.

“Oh… uh, hey,” he greeted, his voice an octave higher than normal. His hand went up in a small, awkward wave.

“Hey, Han,” you said with a polite smile, ignoring the slight flutter in your chest.

From that moment on, it was obvious.

You weren’t sure if Hyunjin was oblivious or just ignoring it, but Han’s eyes kept finding you. Every time you laughed at something, his gaze softened. Every time you looked away, you caught him sneaking glances. Every time you spoke, his attention was solely on you.

It was adorable.

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to think of something to say to you but chickening out at the last second. His usual confidence when performing was nowhere to be found.

“So, uh— you, um, still paint?” he blurted out at one point, catching you off guard.

You blinked. “Yeah, I do.”

“I— I remember Hyunjin used to complain about you taking all his art supplies,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You were, uh… really good.”

A warm feeling bloomed in your chest. He remembered?

“Thanks,” you said, grinning.

His face turned a little pink, and he quickly shoved a bite of food into his mouth to avoid saying something dumb.

Hyunjin finally seemed to catch on, because he suddenly narrowed his eyes at Han. “What’s wrong with you?”

Han choked. “N-Nothing! Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Felix (Changbin’s sister)

Soft music played in the background as you and Felix stood side by side in the kitchen, carefully decorating a fresh batch of cupcakes. The warm scent of vanilla and chocolate filled the air, making the cozy space feel even more inviting. Felix hummed along to the song, his hands steady as he piped little swirls of frosting onto each cupcake.

“You’re really good at this,” you commented, watching his concentrated expression.

Felix glanced at you with a small, proud smile. “I’ve had practice. Baking is kinda relaxing, you know?”

You nodded, adding sprinkles to a cupcake he had just finished. “It is. And more fun when I have you as my partner.”

Felix’s ears tinged pink at your words, but he grinned nonetheless. “Of course! We’re the ultimate baking duo.”

Just as he finished decorating the last cupcake, the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. A moment later, Changbin stepped into the kitchen, pausing when he saw the two of you.

Felix, ever the affectionate one, turned to him with a bright smile. “Hyung! You’re home.”

Changbin stopped, taking in the scene – the neat rows of cupcakes, Felix’s gentle smile directed at you, and the way you both naturally moved around each other. His lips twitched as if he was trying to suppress a smile, but it was obvious he found the moment endearing.

“You two really are something else,” he said, shaking his head.

Felix chuckled, holding up a cupcake. “We made these! Want to try one?”

Changbin sighed but stepped forward, picking one up. He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully while you and Felix watched expectantly. After a moment, he nodded. “Not bad.”

Felix pumped his fist in the air. “Success!”

Changbin finally let a small smile slip through. “Alright, alright. Just don’t make the kitchen a disaster zone.”

You and Felix exchanged glances before turning back to Changbin with innocent looks. “Of course not,” Felix said sweetly.

Seungmin (Lee Know’s sister)

(A/N: I also wrote this -> X)

The afternoon sun reflected off the rippling pool water as you sat on the edge, lazily kicking your feet in the cool blue. The guys were spending some of their free time in a rented house and you visited them for the day. What they didn’t know is that the house had a pool. Therefore, you were perfectly content staying dry.

Seungmin, however, had other plans.

He waded towards the edge where you sat, tilting his head with a smirk. “Enjoying yourself?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. But before you could react, his hands were on your back, and before you could protest—

Splash!

Cold water rushed around you as you resurfaced with a gasp, pushing your soaked hair out of your face while your wet t-shirt stuck to your body.

“Seungmin!” you shrieked, glaring at him.

He was standing at the edge now, arms crossed, grinning triumphantly. “That was satisfying,” he mused. “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Oh, I’ll show you a face—” you started swimming towards him, ready for revenge.

But before you could reach him, Seungmin felt a solid push against his bag.

He barely had time to register what was happening before he was tumbling forward.

Another Splash!

For a moment, everything was silent – until Seungmin resurfaced, coughing slightly, his eyes widening when he saw Lee Know still standing at the edge.

He hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even moved after pushing him.

“…I think I’m gonna stay here for a while,” he muttered to himself, slowly walking to the middle of the pool—just to be safe.

Because, well… Lee Know couldn’t swim. And that meant as long as Seungmin stayed in the water, he had at least one layer of protection.

From the edge of the pool, Lee Know’s stare didn’t waver.

Seungmin gulped. Yeah. Definitely staying in here for a while.

I.N (Felix’s sister)

“You know, I love you guys and all, but I feel like I’ve been abandoned,” Felix said dramatically, flopping onto the couch in the dorm’s common area. “Ever since you two started dating, it’s like I don’t have a sister anymore. My poor heart.”

You rolled your eyes, but a pang of guilt hit you. Ever since you and Jeongin had started dating, you hadn't spent as much time with your brother as you used to. Of course, he was joking – his tone made that clear – but there was truth in his words. And Felix, for all his mischief, had always been one of the people closest to you.

“Fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “How about a day out? You, me, and Innie.”

“Oh?" Jeongin perked up from where he was sitting beside you. “That actually sounds fun.”

Felix gasped, delighted, and clapped his hands together. “A date with my two favorite people? Say less!”

That was how the three of you ended up spending the day together. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. You had worried Felix would feel like a third wheel, or that the dynamic would feel forced, but instead, it just felt right. The three of you effortlessly fell into an easy rhythm – eating street food, teasing each other, dragging Felix away from every bakery he tried to enter, and even stopping by a claw machine.

But the highlight of the day? The photo booth.

“We have to!” Felix insisted, already pulling you and Jeongin inside. “For memories.”

You all squeezed into the small space, laughing as you tried to fit into the frame. The first photo was a normal one, just the three of you smiling. The second? Felix did a peace sign while Jeongin grinned, and you attempted a cute pose. By the third, chaos had ensued – Felix making a goofy face, I.N pretending to push him away, and you caught in the middle, laughing uncontrollably.

When the strip of photos printed out, you couldn’t stop smiling. It was perfect.

Later that night, while lying in bed, you stared at your phone screen, now set with the photo from the booth. A warm feeling spread through your chest. Felix wasn’t losing you, and you weren’t losing him. If anything, you were just gaining more memories together – ones that included Jeongin as well.

masterlist

[mrshigurumasshop]

Summer Mornings | Fushiguro T. ~ the one where toji wakes up to a pretty view in the mornings

─➭ pairing: husband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

─➭ mentions of: little bit of nsfw (boob sucking/somno), fluff

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

One thing that Toji is most thankful of are the mornings on the days he has off from work. He would still wake up before you even though he slept in and during that time before you wake up, he just admires you. His wife.

Especially on summer days.

Gods, you were a sight for sore eyes. He’s happily admitted to you that this part of you in the morning is the best. It’s your bare and most vulnerable self that no one will ever have the chance to see.

These mornings is when he’d roll over to face your sleeping form and find how your body is comfortably splayed out on your side of the bed. Your hair is in some form of disarray, one arm over your head while the other is thrown over your torso, and your mouth is open enough to let out your soft snores. He studies your face, letting his eyes graze over the blemishes and moles you have here and there. Then depending on the day he’d be able to count how many pimple patches you have decorating your cute face. Sometimes he’d count one or two star patches on your forehead or chin.

Your soft lips have a faint rose color from the lip balm you put on before you to bed every night. He swears he could die happily feeling your lips against his.

His eyes then rake down your face to your neck and chest to see how the sun hits your body just right to make you glow so naturally. If it’s really hot by the time he wakes up he’d see a very light layer of sweat on your neck and chest. The ends of your hair in the background are being lightly blown away from the fan that was placed facing the bed for more cool air. He can see that your cropped tank top and panties are doing to no little by making you cooler as you’d move every so often in discomfort.

The light layer of sweat can also be seen back on your glowing face. Your hairline has a slight glisten to it and your cheeks feel warm to the touch as he lightly caresses the back of his hand against them. The said hand would gently move down towards your chest where one of your tits had been peeking out from your top.

Fuck, your tits… is a blessing from whoever it is from above.

Toji lets out a strained groan as his fingers would graze over your perked nipple. He’d shift his body closer to yours; near laying his head on top of your chest he has to stop himself from indulging too fast but, fuck it, who cares?

Toji whimpers the second he starts sucking on your pretty tits. He can never get enough of them by having them first thing in the morning. But sucking them like his life depended on it just wasn’t enough. He’d start giving you love bites on and around your nipple as his moans. His arms are completely wrapped around your waist as he tangles his legs with yours and that’s when he hears those oh so beautiful gasps.

“Toji…,” you softly whine. Your husband moans in response as he suck a little harder while he feels your nails run through his dark hair. “Toji, it’s hott,” you whine with a laugh.

You softly tug on his hair to pull him away and he smiles up at you as he trails kisses around your nipple. “Just lay back and enjoy, pretty girl,” he then sloppily kisses your nipple not once but twice before saying, “Mmm, and good morning.”

You softly laugh out a sweet “good morning, honey,” as you let him go back into his blissful state.

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

[urmum-lovesme]

Ok but toxic!dad!rafe where this don’t effect the children’s life but when it come to the mother of his kids he’s still very overprotective. I mean she is a MILF.

This is the best thing I've ever heard anon I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Toxic!Rafe as a dad?

Surprisingly present. 

His kid adores him, and in their eyes, he’s just their cool, protective father. He spoils them, takes them out on the yacht all the time, and he makes sure they have everything they could ever want. He told himself he would never be like Ward if he ever became a father, and he- for a change- was living up to his word.

But when it comes to their mom? That’s where the real problem is.

Because Rafe does not change when it comes to Y/N.

Y/N falling pregnant, certainly wasn't planned. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She was young, she had a future and more than anything, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with Rafe, let alone have a baby with him. She didn't tell Rafe right away. Not because she was hiding it, but because she knew- deep in her gut- that he wouldn’t react like a normal person. She needed time to think, to weigh her options, to figure out what she wanted before he got involved.

But Rafe found out anyway.

Y/N had been so incredibly careful, she didn't leave any trace of the positive pregnancy test in Tannyhill; but he just knew her too well, sensed that something was off when she stopped drinking.

“What?”

His voice was quiet at first, his brows furrowed, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But then the realisation hit. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, the room suddenly feeling too small. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.

“You were gonna tell me, right?”

“Rafe, I—I don’t know what I’m going to do yet—”

Wrong answer. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“The fuck do you mean, you don’t know?” His breath was hot against her face, his fingers digging into her skin.

“That’s my kid, Y/N.”

Her stomach churned, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“I just- Rafe, I need time to think—”

“No, you don’t.”

He cut her off, shaking his head like the idea itself was ridiculous, angrily running a hand through his messed up hair.

“You don’t need to think. It’s already decided.”

She tried to take a step back, but his grip tightened, his other hand settling on her waist, firmly keeping her closer to him.

“We’re having this baby.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the words passed his lips, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop the feeling.

“I don’t- Rafe, this is my choice—”

His fingers pressed harder, his face inches from hers.

“No, it’s ours.”

Even now when they have a child together, he still watches her like a hawk. Still gets unreasonably possessive when she dresses a certain way, still makes a scene when he catches another man looking at her for a second too long. And she knows better than to fight him on it- most of the time.

It’s a summer afternoon, and she’s lounging by the pool, drink in hand, wearing a bikini that makes Rafe’s jaw clench. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over her as she adjusted the thin strap of her bikini top. It was tiny- too fucking tiny. The black fabric barely covered her tits, which, thanks to breastfeeding, were even fuller now, spilling slightly over the edges. His jaw clenched as his gaze dragged down, taking in the way the strings hugged her hips, digging into soft, newly gained curves that had him gripping the bottle in his hand just a little harder.

His friends are over, and while they’re talking, his eyes keep flicking toward her, watching the way the fabric clings to her curves. And then- Topper nudges him, nodding toward one of the new neighbours talking to her.

Rafe’s face goes dark.

She’s laughing at something the guy said, totally unaware of the way Rafe’s grip tightens around his beer bottle. He doesn’t make a scene- not yet- but when the guy finally walks away, Rafe strides over, towering over her as she peers up from her sun bed. His voice is deceptively smooth, but she knows that tone.

"Having fun, baby?"

"Yes."

His fingers skim her thigh, tracing the edge of her bikini bottoms.

"You looked like you were having a little too much fun."

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on her head, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious." He leans down, voice dropping.

"Go inside and cover up."

She scoffs, shifting to sit up, the towel underneath her crumpling slightly as she moved,

"It’s our backyard and it's a pool party-."

"-I don’t give a fuck."

"Rafe, you’re being ridiculous."

"Yeah?" His grip tightens on her thigh.

"Then why’s he looking at you like he wants to fuck you?"

Her stomach flips.

"Stop," she hisses, even as heat creeps up her neck. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in so only she can hear.

"Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, huh?"

Her breath catches.

And the way he says it? The way his hand tightens on her thigh, just enough to send a warning? It sends a shiver down her spine, even as she glares at him. Because she knows- if she doesn’t listen now, he’ll make her.

Somehow, their kid never see this side of Rafe, he makes sure of it.

To them, their dad is just protective, he just 'cares about mommy so much!'. They never see the way their mother bites her lip in frustration when Rafe pulls her away from conversations. They never see the bruises he leaves- not always from violence, but from gripping her too tight, kissing her too hard. They don’t hear the way she argues in hushed tones behind closed doors, or the way she eventually gives in and melts into him anyway.

Because as much as she hates his jealousy and his control, she loves him too much to walk away.

He is the father of her child after all

[yukioos]

Your writing is so good im eating up every little bit hsesuritvjhb

can I request a Katsuki x windquirk!reader? Hes tired and sweaty after training and comes into readers dorm to cool off with cuddles cuz shes basically a human fan thank you!

katsuki bakugo who relies on you to cool him off

treat it like it's the real thing. katsuki was always told that ever since he was a little boy. when he had to practice for sports events, his parents always advised him to play like he was really in the game. when he studied and did quizzes in school, he did his best to get all of them right. this wasn’t any different from training.

he always tried his hardest, and especially harder when he was against eijiro, who he considered to be one of the strongest in the class. while training, he and eijiro were one of the pairs that were the most entertaining to watch. it always ended in both of them being covered in sweat and many scratches, bruises, and cuts.

this time, after a couple of rounds of trying to push each other out of a large boxed arena, katsuki finally won. eijiro applauded him and placed a hand on his sweat-soaked shoulder, making him immediately pull his hand back.

“thanks for training with me, bakugo!” eijiro thanked, showing off his shiny, sharp teeth with a wide grin.

the blonde rolled his eyes and attempted to hold back a smile, “yeah, whatever.” he paused, then thought for a moment. damn, he needed to see you, he was soaked in sweat and felt like the sun was burning him a hundred times over. he looked at the ground, and his lip turned into a shy smile.

a knowing grin stretched across eijiro’s face, he tilted his head and crossed his arms. he knew that look. “thinking about your girl again?”

katsuki’s eyes widened, then quickly glared at his friend. when would he stop with all this teasing? before he opened his mouth, eijiro suggested, “i know you need her to cool you off, just go to her.”

the blonde rolled his eyes, he knew his friend was right. he gave him a small wave and jogged to your dorm, still panting on his way there. god, he was feeling too hot. too overwhelmed. how long has it been since he’s seen you last? two hours? that was clearly too long of a break, and he just wanted to be held in your arms again.

your door opened in the middle of nowhere, causing you to quickly and anxiously turn your head. the wind in your room was strong as papers and books began to fly all over the room. a heavy schoolbook quickly flew to the doorframe, but your boyfriend caught it, then shielded his eyes from the heavy wind.

once you realized it was him, you smiled and kicked your feet. as the wind began to become less intense, your hair spiked up, a sign that meant you were feeling extreme emotions. the blonde stood in the doorway before he walked in, quietly closed the door, made a short trip to your desk to place your schoolbook down, and then stripped himself of his black tank top.

“come here, kats!” you exclaimed, laying on your bed, back to your sheets as you held your arms out.

he didn’t say anything but quickly climbed into your bed, and wrapped his arms around your waist. a deep sigh came from his chest, and he immediately felt a wave of relief and coldness. you used your quirk to cool him off, and rubbed your hands against his bare back, making him feel more comfortable than ever.

katsuki kissed your neck and closed his eyes, not saying a single word. he must’ve been extremely tired if he didn’t have any complaints about training or anything to brag about.

but as soon as you were about to open your mouth, you noticed his breathing was even. all the sweat droplets on his body were gone, and his eyes were closed. it wasn’t too common for him to pass out immediately after training, but maybe he was especially emotional today.

he didn’t tell you that he fell asleep around you so easily because he felt safe around you. the way you were always so caring and excited to simply cool him down warmed his heart every time. he loved how as soon as you saw the slightest sign that he may have been overheated, you would place a hand on his bicep or forehead to cool him down.

not long after katsuki fell asleep, you also drifted into slumber, holding his cool body in your arms.

tysm for 900 followers! you guys are so amazing, and thank you for this request! it’s absolutely adorable, and i’m so thankful you love my writing!

[gloomyluvr]

NEEDY

in which rafe just wants to nap

fem!reader x rafe cameron

fluff

warnings!: bit of sarah shade. cameron siblings getting along (iktr 🙂‍↕️), reader is from the cut and kind of a pogue idk,

a/n: hiii ! first rafe fic ever and first fic since 2023 (oops...) to my spiderverse readers i will write when they give us content and when the fandom is alive. hope this fic is good and people like it. it's not the best but i'm working on other fics so give me a chance please 😣. this ones pretty short. pls let me know if you enjoyed this or if there are any spelling errors. requests are open !

masterlist

summer in the outer banks was nothing short of fun. spending most days at the beach taking in the warm sun, relaxing and cooling down in the cold water, all while hanging out with the people you love most. but fuck, did it get so hot sometimes. unbearably hot. it wasn’t enough to cool down in the water, the intense sun on skin overpowering the coolness of the ocean. it was worse at the chateau, or anywhere on the cut. only a lucky few could afford the luxury of air conditioning. fortunately, you had a super awesome hot rich boyfriend with a mansion with air conditioning that ran 24/7. 

you laid in bed with the youngest cameron sibling, helping her with online shopping for the upcoming school year. having been with rafe for just a couple months, you had become close with his sisters. you saw sarah at the chateau with john b more than you had ever really seen her at tannyhill. therefore, when you spent time at the mansion, you typically spent time with wheezie when you got bored with rafe. 

“wait, that one’s cute,” you pointed to a crop top on wheezie’s laptop which rested on her knees.

“i think i already have that one though.” she looked around her room to see if the top was among the clothes on the floor before giving up and continued scrolling through the catalogue, “i feel like these clothes are too revealing.”

“cmon wheeze! this is nothing, you just gotta get out of your shell. it’s just clothes, try something new and i don’t know, maybe you’ll like it.” you tried convincing the younger girl. over the past few months you had become like an older sister to her, as sarah spent more time with john b and the other pogues.

“my dad would never let me buy these,” she turned her head to look at you. 

“just put it on rafe’s card,” you whispered, “i won’t tell.” you stuck your pinky out and wheezie quickly wrapped her pinky around yours, giggling. 

as wheezie finalized her cart a familiar voice began to call out for you, “babeee! babeee where are you!”

wheezie rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil,” she muttered. 

“summon him and he shall come,” you smiled at her which she returned, “i’m in wheezie’s room!” you called back. on queue, you heard obnoxiously loud stomps coming up the stairs. “he is so dramatic and for what?”

rafe stood in the doorway looking at you and his younger sister, “why’d you steal my girlfriend, wheeze?” 

 it was your turn to roll your eyes, “she didn’t steal me, dipshit. you were too busy ignoring me for topper and kelce and your stupid game so i came up here where i am truly loved.” you sighed, wrapping yourself around wheezie who stuck her tongue out at her older brother. in return, rafe picked up one of the shirts laying on the floor and chucked it at wheezie. 

“douchebag!” she yelled.

“cmon y/n, i wanna go take a nap.” 

“but i’m so comfy here!” you whined cuddling wheezie tighter. 

rafe walked over to your side and quickly got on the bed, spooning you and throwing one of his long legs over your body, reaching wheezie. rafe wasn’t an affectionate brother by any means, but when he was with you he definitely softened up with everyone around you guys. 

wheezie kicked her brother’s calf, “ew get your nasty dogs away from me!” but rafe didn’t budge.

“what’re you guys doing?” he mumbled looking at the laptop screen. 

“y/n’s helping me shop for school.” 

“why? you have enough clothes. you don’t need none of those crop tops. no boyfriends till you’re 30.” rafe stated as he viewed the clothes on the screen.

you gently smacked the leg that was on top of your own, “don’t be rude! wheezie’s not little anymore.”

 “hm, whatever.” he grumbled, nuzzling his face against your neck, eyes shut as he fully enveloped you leaving no space between your bodies. his hands found yours, wasting no time to intertwine your fingers. 

“get off me, fatty!” you feigned disgust, as if you weren’t enjoying every second of rafe’s neediness to cuddle.

rafe grumbled, “only if you come take a nap with me in my room.” 

“fineeee, get up then,” you reached behind to gently smack his butt and he quickly got up, no effort to hide his big smile, “sorry wheeze, duty calls.” you sighed, getting up following rafe as he walked to wheezie’s door.

before walking out he turned back to wheezie and stuck his tongue out as she had done earlier. with no hesitation, wheezie returned the gesture as you smacked rafe’s head and shoved him out the door. 

[dmitriene]

i couldn't wait for summer to post it

a small trip to the beach with simon riley, turning out to be his own personal show of you, tawny, brown eyes that hide beneath heavy eyelids don't leave your form even for a second, the way you look in that pretty, lovely bikini of yours, how the water glistens at your curves, at your sternum, dripping down the seam of your belly, letting the sun rays play with your skin teasingly.

unable to take his eyes off you, he swallows little drool that gathers behind his clenched teeth, fidgeting against the shuffling surface of the sunlounger with his muscular hips, swimming trunks lowered down and able to hide the view of his chubbing, dripping cock, but his pale skin still flushes deep, from the neck and down the exposed, scarred chest, enough to pass for sunburn.

simon waits patiently for you to enjoy the cool water and the bright, shining sun, watching how you smile giddily, run over to him to tell that the water is great, ask him to apply some sunscreen to your body, as his heavy palms sweep and massage over every dip and curve of your pretty body, and it's harder and harder to wait for where you'll be back to the rented beach house.

he strips you right from the doorway, pulling at the small knot of your bikini top to unravel it, let the wet fabric drop at the floor beneath your legs, as he palms needily at your round breasts, kneading, tugging at the supple flesh beneath to hear the heavy, hitched moans that escape your slack lips, before his hands hurriedly descend down your sides to hoist your body up, carrying you over to the bedroom.

you know how desperate simon is when his clothed, fully erect cock presses against the swell of your plump asscheeks, your body bent over the bed, smushed against the silken sheets, as simon's trembling fingers fiddle with the panties of your bikini, almost ripping the wet, skimpy fabric off with a whiny groan, catching a glimpse of your glistening, soaked pussy.

fingers pressing at the sharp curve of your spine, making you perch your ass, meeting the warm, stinging slaps of his heavy hips against your perky backside, weighing on you with his hefty body, with growly, ragged whines that rumble through his chest, sprawled against your back, while your slick heat sucks in every inch of his spasming, engorged cock, seizing tight.

clenching with little pulls, despite being stretched over to the very sting at each pound of his veiny cock along your rippling walls, soppy pussy growing even more warm and oozing wet, pulsing rapidly at each scrape of his fat tip against your spongy, sensitive spot, as you gasp and keen in the heavy palm that cups against the curve of your jaw, holding your face up when your eyes roll.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[inseobts]

could I please request a Luffy x fem Reader where the crew sees a bounty of another pirate and the reader goes on to make comments about how attractive he is which makes Luffy all jealous, thank you!

Jealousy on the Sunny

luffy x fem!reader

words count: 1.7k

tags: fluffy, sfw, humour, jealous luffy

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Straw Hat crew sits around the dining table on the Sunny, finishing up a meal Sanji prepared. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the deck as the ship sails smoothly across the sea.

Nami, flipping through a stack of fresh bounty posters, suddenly pauses. She raises an eyebrow, then smirks.

“Look at this guy,” she says, sliding a poster to the center of the table “His bounty just shot up to 400 million berries.”

Curious, you lean forward, along with the rest of the crew. The poster features a tall, broad-shouldered man with messy black hair and a sharp jawline. A confident smirk stretches across his face, and there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes.

You stop whatever you were doing to look “Damn. He’s kinda hot.”

The room goes silent.

A fork clatters onto a plate. Usopp chokes on his drink. Zoro raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, while Sanji scoffs.

But the real reaction comes from Luffy. Sitting next to you, your captain stops chewing his meat mid-bite. His usual carefree grin fades, replaced by a slight frown. He stares at the poster, then at you.

“You think he’s hot?” Luffy asks, his tone unusually flat.

You shrug, taking another look at the poster “I mean, yeah? Look at that smirk. And those arms—he definitely works out.”

Sanji rolls his eyes “Tch. As if a bounty makes someone attractive.”

“Not the bounty, just—y’know, the whole vibe,” you say, waving your hand “He’s got that mysterious, dangerous look.”

Luffy pouts, still staring at the poster like it personally offended him. He squints at it, then at you “But he’s not even smiling properly” he argues.

You chuckle “Not everyone grins like an excited puppy all the time, Luffy.”

Luffy’s pout deepens “I do not look like a puppy.”

Usopp, watching the scene unfold, snickers “You kinda do, though.”

“Shut up.”

You tilt your head, still looking at the bounty poster “I bet he’s got a cool voice, too. Deep and smooth.”

Luffy abruptly crosses his arms “You don’t even know him.”

“True, but I can imagine.”

Luffy frowns harder. He looks between you and the poster, then suddenly snatches it off the table and crumples it in his hands.

“Oi, what the hell?” Nami scolds.

Luffy grumbles, stuffing the balled-up paper into his pocket “This guy’s stupid. I don’t like him.”

You blink “Luffy, are you… jealous?”

His expression twitches “No.”

Zoro snorts “Yeah, sure.”

Luffy huffs and leans closer to you, nudging his forehead against yours “I’m way cooler than that guy..." he insists.

You bite back a smile “Oh?”

“Yeah! I can stretch, I have a ship, and I’m gonna be King of the Pirates,” he lists proudly, puffing out his chest “That guy probably doesn’t even have meat on his ship.”

Sanji sighs “Luffy, everyone has meat on their ship—”

“Not as much as ours!” Luffy argues, still pressing close to you. His lips form a small pout as he stares at you expectantly, waiting for confirmation.

You can’t help but laugh “Okay, okay. You’re way cooler.”

His face instantly lights up, his signature grin returning “See? I knew it!”

The rest of the crew groans at how easy you went on him, but you don’t care. Luffy tugs you closer, resting his chin on top of your head, still grinning.

“That guy’s dumb. You don’t need to look at other pirates,” he says “You’ve already got me.”

You shake your head fondly “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

Luffy hums happily at your words, wrapping his arms around you in a loose but firm hold. His warmth seeps through your clothes, and the familiar scent of sea salt and adventure clings to him. He’s content now, his jealousy already forgotten.

The rest of the crew, however, is not as quick to move on.

Nami crosses her arms “You’re seriously going to let him win that easily?”

You shrug “What can I say? I like my captain.”

Sanji scoffs, lighting a cigarette “Tch. You have no taste.”

Usopp shakes his head, grinning “Nah, she just knows that if she keeps teasing him, Luffy might actually go pick a fight with that guy.”

Luffy perks up at that “Oh! Should I?”

“No!” everyone shouts in unison.

You chuckle, resting your hand on his chest “Luffy, you can’t just fight someone because I said he looks good.”

“Why not?” Luffy tilts his head “I don’t like it when you say that about other guys.”

You smirk, deciding to tease him just a little more “But what if he is strong?”

Luffy immediately sits up straight, his expression serious “I don’t care. I’d still beat him.”

You laugh, patting his cheek “Relax, Captain. I don’t care about him. You’re the only pirate I’m interested in.”

Luffy beams, pulling you closer again “Good! ‘Cause I already decided—you’re mine.”

Your heart skips a beat at how easily he says it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The crew groans again, muttering about how unfair it is that Luffy gets away with everything. But you?

You just smile and let him hold you, knowing that no other pirate could ever compare.

Luffy is still grinning, completely satisfied with himself, but you’re not done yet. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, his warmth soaking into your skin, and that smug little smile on his face is just too cute.

You tilt your head, looking up at him “So… if I’m yours, what does that make you?”

Luffy blinks “Huh?”

You smirk, fingers tracing lightly over his chest “If I’m yours, then you’re mine too, right?”

His grin falters for a second, a faint dusting of red creeping up his cheeks. He’s never really thought about it like that “Uh… yeah,” he mumbles “I guess so.”

You hum in amusement “Good.” Then, before he can react, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Luffy freezes. His entire body goes stiff, and for once, he’s completely silent.

The crew erupts.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—did she just—?!” Usopp practically chokes on his own words.

Zoro snickers “Didn’t think I’d ever see Luffy speechless.”

Sanji groans dramatically, gripping his chest “Why must I suffer like this?!”

Meanwhile, Luffy slowly lifts a hand to his cheek, eyes wide. He turns to you, mouth slightly open, like his brain is still catching up to what just happened.

You giggle at his reaction “What? You can call me yours, but I can’t kiss you?”

Luffy’s face breaks into the widest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen “No, no, you can! Do it again!”

You laugh, shaking your head “Maybe later.”

“Aw, c’mon!” He starts leaning closer, obviously wanting another one.

You place a hand on his face, pushing him back slightly “You’re acting like a little kid.”

He pouts “So? You kissed me first.”

“And you got greedy right away” you tease.

Luffy huffs but doesn’t let go of you. Instead, he nuzzles into your neck, still grinning “I like it,” he mumbles “You should do it more.”

Your heart flutters, and you roll your eyes playfully “Maybe if you stop getting jealous over random bounty posters.”

Luffy immediately lifts his head “Okay! I promise! No more getting jealous!”

You raise an eyebrow “That fast?”

“Yep!” He grins “As long as you keep kissing me, I don’t care about anyone else!”

You shake your head, laughing “You’re ridiculous.” But as you look at him, at his bright smile, his happy, expectant expression, you sigh in defeat.

“…Fine.”

You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips this time. It’s soft, warm, and sweet, just like him.

Luffy practically vibrates with excitement “Hehehe.”

The crew groans.

“Great. Now he’s never gonna shut up about this” Zoro mutters.

You just smile, because honestly? You don’t mind at all.

Luffy is still grinning like an idiot, arms wrapped snugly around you, his forehead resting against yours. His excitement is contagious, and you can’t help but smile too.

But then he tilts his head, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Hey,” he says softly “Kiss me again.”

Your heart skips a beat. The way he’s looking at you, curious, eager, completely focused, makes your face heat up.

You roll your eyes, pretending to be unimpressed “You’re so greedy.”

Luffy just grins wider “Yep.”

You hesitate for a second, but honestly, you don’t really want to resist. So, before you can overthink it, you reach up, cupping his face in your hands. His skin is warm under your palms, sun-kissed and slightly rough from all his adventures.

Then, you close the small distance between you, pressing your lips against his.

Luffy goes completely still. For a second, he’s not even breathing. But then, just as you start to pull away, his arms tighten around you, and he kisses you back... messy, unpracticed, but so incredibly Luffy.

His lips are warm, soft, and he leans into you like he never wants to let go. It’s not a deep kiss, not rushed or desperate, just pure and full of excitement.

When you finally break apart, he stares at you, eyes wide and shining.

Then, his entire face lights up.

“WOAH!!” He bounces slightly, still holding onto you “That was awesome! Do it again!”

You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head “Calm down, Captain.”

But Luffy is anything but calm. He turns to the rest of the crew, still grinning like he just found a new adventure.

“Did you guys see that?! She kissed me!! On the lips!!”

The crew collectively groans.

“Yes, Luffy. We saw” Nami says, rubbing her temples.

Zoro smirks “Bet you won’t shut up about it for a week.”

“I won’t!!” Luffy declares proudly, hugging you closer “This is the best day ever!!”

You sigh, laughing as he nuzzles into you “You’re impossible.”

“But you like me anyway” he says smugly.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny it “…Yeah. I do.”

Luffy beams, squeezing you tighter “Good! ‘Cause I really, really like you too!”

You smile, resting your head against his chest. The bounty poster is long forgotten, because really, no one else in the world could ever compare to him.