#I only have the eyes colored so you can see the difference between the two beans

[nerdygirlramblings]

finally, the courting contract and Ren's response

previous

You leave the briefing off-kilter. You didn't expect to ever put yourself in Spinner's orbit again, assuming Laswell would connect him to his nefarious doings other ways. But you can't shake the image of him holding you close, the predatory look in his eyes as he told you he didn't believe in putting birds in cages. The way you could tell he wanted to put you in one. No matter how much you want to get back to normal, especially after your heat, you know you can't go back on your scent blockers. That thought is almost more upsetting, and from the soft grunt behind you, you know Ghost can smell your distress. You'd told Price a few weeks back you could control your scent, but you're doing a shit job of that now.

As if called by your thoughts, the smell of his autumn fire invades your senses as a warm hand falls on your shoulder. "Why don't ya take the afternoon, Ren. Tha' was a lot ta come back ta, yeah?"

You want to jump on his excuse, use it to get some space, but between the heat and being told you'll have to try get Spinner's attention, your omega is begging you to stay here with your pack where it's safe. Except they aren't your pack, you grudgingly remind her. They might not want to be your pack. And she does nothing but howl and weep at that thought. Knowing your scent is still laced with distress, you try to dial it back enough to softly say, "I think I just need ta rest a bit."

"Well then," Soap pipes up from somewhere behind you, "why don't we all head to the barracks. Nothing needs doin' right away. Ye can go shopping wi' Adam tomorrow."

Before you can respond either way, Price speaks up, "Actually, Soap, that's brilliant. Let's head off base for a little. Maybe hit the shops, get some scran. Can't promise we'll be as helpful as Adam, but I bet we can help ya find something."

Two hours later, you find yourself in a shopping center near base, different from the retail park you’d gone to with Adam for the first op. Though he'd warned you they wouldn't be as helpful as Adam, Price surprises you when he pulls out several tasteful dresses in a style similar to the first one. Holding them up, question clear on his face, you can't help but smile and nod. A sales clerk comes over, glancing hesitantly between you all, the others intimidating even in their civvies, and asks, "Can I get a room started for you?" He directs the question at you despite Price holding the dresses.

"Er, sure," you reply, watching him walk away with the clothes Price selected. Something in that action opens the floodgates as Gaz and Soap practically dive into dress racks. You smother the giggle that bubbles up at seeing your team trying to help pick a dress. Ghost's only contribution is taking pictures of the dresses and sending them to Adam. After the first six, Adam responds with pictures from the last few events supporting the dinner's nature charity.

While the auction was nearly black tie in attendee attire, the riot of color from the previous nature charity events sends Gaz running to put back nearly every dress they've found so far. Instead he and Soap start grabbing anything jewel-toned. Frills and layers, silks and chiffons, it all ends up over the changing room door. One after the other, you try the on the fabric concoctions. At first, you simply slip a dress on, note how it looks and feels, and move on. It’s when Soap calls out, “Ach, lass, how long does a little dress take?”

The teal fabric falls back around your ankles. “Er…did ya want ta see them?” you tentatively call.

Sounds of a scuffle reach you, a yelp and the distinct sound of fabric being slapped. “Ignore ‘im lass,” Price calls. “Unless ya actually want ta show us.” There’s a hesitant note in his voice. It feels out of place and warms you imagining him nervous in the waiting area.

Thankfully, the teal dress is fit, so you walk back out, watching your feet instead of their reactions. The silence at your appearance stretches for long, uncomfortable seconds until you finally glance up. Ghost is gripping the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, muscles tight. Price’s lips are rolled together, and you can’t tell what he’s holding himself back from saying, though based on how wide his eyes are, you hope it isn’t bad. Soap is literally hanging on the edge of his seat, and Gaz simply looks awe-struck. You take a breath to calm your nerves before saying, “If this is yer reaction ta each dress, we’ll be here all day.”

Soap barks out a strained laugh, saying, "Wouldnae mind at all."

"Well, ya really did put the whole shop in the changing room. I can't promise ta come out in everything, yeah? I do'n really want ta be here all day."

They don't respond as you walk back to the gowns they picked out. You already know the taffeta of the blue one will be too uncomfortable, and the one in an array of sunset colors won't let you move enough. They see the ombre pink with the asymmetrical hem and the deep purple velvet with virtually no back, but it's the white slip dress with silk overlay that elicits the most reaction. The fabric whispers over your skin, and with hidden slits along the front and the back that make it easy to move in. The silk layer has a riot of tropical looking flowers on it: deep pink blooms and bright yellow petals curling over vibrant green leaves and little blue blossoms.

When you step into the waiting area, you're startled by a deep purr reminiscent of a Bristol Fighter. The surprised looks on Price's, Gaz's, and Soap's faces show you how uncommon it is for Ghost to react like this. Price quickly gets over it as the purr fades off almost as fast as it came on. "Yer a sight," he says, looking at you. You want to hide from the intensity of his gaze but your omega won't let you.

"I think that's the one," Gaz says.

Your smile is tentative but warm. "I think so," you reply. "Let me get back into my civvies an' we can grab some supper."

You put the unselected dresses on the rack by the changing room and pass the white dress to Price. Ghost is standing awkwardly near the shop entrance, but you don't see or hear Gaz and Soap. Eyebrow raised, you look at your Captain, asking, "Where are the others?"

"Said they needed ta grab somethin' and ta meet 'em at Chinese," Price tells you, large, scarred hand carefully taking the dress bag from the salesman. He herds you in front of him, gently brushing his fingertips along your low back as you precede him. Ghost joins you as you leave, trailing in Price's wake.

The Chinese is a large buffet on the other side of the shopping center. At this time of day, it isn't too busy, but you hear Price mention the base, and when the hostess leads you into the restaurant, it's to a table in the back, facing the door. Price and Ghost sit on the outer edges, herding you into the center seat. Gaz and Soap aren't here yet, but they'll be able to see you when the get here.

It's strange to be sat between your captain and your leftenant, silent as they both currently are, but the wait for the others isn't long. Soap spots you immediately and heads straight for the table, nearly knocking into a poor pensioner carrying a plate piled with desserts to his table. Gaz isn't much better, weaving around other patrons for the fastest route to where you are. As they sit, both men share the same smug look.

"Jus' show 'er," Ghost grunts, looking at the sergeants.

"Ren, lookit wha' we found fer ye!" Soap whisper shouts, putting a flat felt box on the table. He's watching you the way Mama usually watches the triplets on Christmas, eyes alight with anticipatory glee.

You reach out, flipping the lid up and sit back, a little startled, and then shocked and surprised that the kaleidoscope of butterflies isn't taking flight. There are several different sizes and colors, a riot of piercing blues, vibrant yellows, rich-hued oranges, and deep reds framed in pitch black or pure white. It isn't clear what they're made of, but they're all paused mid-flight in a large arcing collar that will protect your neck. Glancing between Gaz and Soap, you blink back tears. "It's...it's lovely," you choke out. "But it's too much. I remember Laswell's budget for my clothes the first time, and between the dress and this, I know we've gone over."

"Consider it a courting gift," Price murmurs, shocking you straight to your core. The gasp that escapes is entirely unconscious. You try to gather the words for a response, shifting to see Price better, but he continues talking without looking over at you. "We've been wantin' ta talk wi' ya about courtin', about yer place in the pack, for a while now."

Ghost make a noise that can only be a grunt of agreement, and Gaz and Soap are nodding encouragingly. It's only when he turns to look you in the eye do you realize the agreement and encouragement weren't for you, weren't to show you they all want you, though that's a secondary effect, it was to shore up your captain who's looking as uncomfortable as the day he mentioned Ghost's rut. Is he scared of your reaction?

"Told ya when I offered ya the spot on the team we were open ta courtin' ya," Price reminds you. "What I didn't say was we'd already agreed we wanted ta court ya if ya were willin'."

"But," you stammer, "ya didn't even know me! How could ya want ta court me?"

"Because yer amazing, Ren," Gaz says, smiling gently, trying not to spook you. "We knew what others were sayin'. We knew ya were strong and capable. Hell, we knew a few alphas made arses of themselves tryin' ta court ya all the wrong ways." Ghost chuckles darkly, and you wonder if they know about the alpha you'd put in medical.

"When ya had yer heat," Price says, drawing your attention to him again, "we drew up a courtin' contract." He places a single page on the table in front of you. It's shockingly short but thorough, stating that the 141 Pack would like to court you. "The 141 Pack will, in the course of their courting of the omega, never impinge on the omega's career or make demands that demean or diminish the omega's service. As much as is possible, the integrity and safety of the pack will come before everything else; no member of the pack will be transferred off the 141 task force unless a specific request is made, in writing and with the consent of all pack members, to both Captain Price and Station Chief Laswell. During the courting, the pack will find non-barracks lodging that meets the omega's needs for a nest and / or other safe space. After the courting period, the pack may maintain this lodging or find alternate housing that continues to meet the needs of the pack. All members of the 141 Pack will take shared compassionate leave for any ruts or heats that arise in order to support the impacted pack member(s). Non-compassionate leave is not required to be shared by any members of the pack. At no time either during or after the courting process is the omega obligated to undergo a full bonding / claiming."

Tucked at the bottom is the kind of clause the military requires: "If the courting is unsuccessful, all pack and non-pack members would still be considered valued member of the 141 task force. However, if desired, any pack or non-pack member of the task force may request a transfer which will be supported with full-throated recommendations of service from both Station Chief Laswell and Captain Price."

It's everything you would ever want from a pack: the space and support to be you. You knew the team had your back before, but to see it laid out so unequivocally makes your breath catch in your chest. Looking at the paper, with signatures already from the four men around you, Laswell, and the base commander, you whisper, "This doesn't feel real." You swipe at the tears you can't control, catching them before they hit the page. You look up at Gaz and Soap who are wearing warring expressions of yearning and fear, vacillating in that space between achieving your dream and having it destroyed.

"'S real, luv," Ghost whispers, putting a hand over yours. "We wan' ya ta be our omega."

Somehow you find the strength to nod your head and softly say, "Okay." You're staring at your hand under Ghost's, so you don't see their faces, but it's impossible to ignore the way Ghost's hand tightens infinitesimally on yours, or the whoop of glee from Soap, or Price's heavy hand as it drops to your thigh while he leans over and says, "Thank ya for givin' us a chance, Ren."

next

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~~

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[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Octavian, Reader/You

WARNINGS/TAGS: Mostly fluff, brief descriptions of animal cruelty and death (from a movie), blanket forts, modern AU, parental yandere, slight infantilization, cuddling, gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a commission! To the commissioner, I hope this is satisfactory! <3

"All of these screens are an eyesore," Octavian says, though doesn't resist as you drag him down the technology aisle. His cloak sweeps against his legs with his movements. You both get a lot of weird looks, to which Octavian glares them all down and pulls you close, as if they're giving weird looks at you and not his strange attire.

You smile at him. "Have you ever really seen a TV? Or a phone, for that matter? Anything?"

"Telegraphs are as far as I go, and those things were insufferable," Octavian huffs. "Though I have seen others on their phones many times when in town like now. I just never felt very curious about them."

"Here!" You point out the TVs on display, ranging in different sizes and shapes. Some of them have curved edges while others are so thin they can be mistaken for picture frames. They all play the same scene from some random drama show and none of them seem to hold Octavian's attention. You reach up and tap his nose, "You see how many colors they are? That's much better than a telegraph."

He laughs a little at that. "Sweetheart, anything is better than a telegraph. If this is what you want, I'll get the entire stock." He reaches into his cloak and pulls out an old-fashioned looking billfold.

"We only need one, Papa."

At the check-out, he pays, to which you awkwardly look away from the cashier.

"Sick costume," he says. "Did you guys come from the convention down the street?"

"Sure did," you answer upon seeing Octavian's confused expression. The cashier begins talking to another customer, prompting you to turn to Octavian while he fills out some things. "Are you excited to have some kind of entertainment other than books and gardening?"

"And cooking," he adds, not looking up from struggling with the electronic device. "I have you, though, and that's all the entertainment I need. You keep me on my toes every hour of the day." He finishes his indecipherable signature, making you snort. He sends you a playful glare. "Why on earth is everything digital nowadays? I can't even write my signature on a piece of paper now!"

You roll your eyes fondly.

...

Octavian tries hard to follow the directions you read to him. His eyebrows pinch together in concentration and there's a line between his brows from him wrinkling his nose. He wears reading glasses, which slip down his nose throughout the endeavor. He constantly pushes them back up.

Every time you try to help him, he refuses. "I've got it, Just let Papa handle this."

You're pretty sure he doesn't have it, but you don't dare argue. Instead, you just continue sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the living room floor while reading the directions.

Finally, after a grueling hour and thirty minutes, Octavian triumphantly stands back and looks at the TV propped against the wall. You grab the remote beside you, scooting up on your knees, and press the power button.

The screen comes on, much to your relief. Octavian lets out a big sigh as if he'd been holding his breath during the entire set-up process.

"So... what now?" Octavian asks.

"Now, we build our cozy little blanket fort in front of the TV and watch movies." You grin widely at him and put down the remote. You pick up the two bags filled with blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and everything you bought for movie night. Well, Octavian was the one to do the buying, but you picked out everything.

"Let me do that, silly," he chuckles and grabs them from you. You stand back up, ready to protest, but he wags a finger at you before turning away to start setting up.

You think about helping, but then remember how stubborn he gets whenever you try to make things easier for him.

Once everything is set up, Octavian turns around with open arms. "Well? How is it? Does this pass inspection, Your Highness?" There's a mock bow to finish off.

Instead of answering him right away, you duck down and crawl into the little fort made of soft sheets and blankets. Inside, it's very spacious— much bigger than any blanket forts you ever made as a kid. In here, the cushions are soft and inviting and warm.

"It passed," you tell him as you wiggle around, searching for the perfect spot. Octavian makes his way in and lays himself across from you.

"How do we work this thing?" he asks, picking up the remote.

"Oh, right." You crawl out of the fort to grab the bag, showing him the movies that were on sale. "They were buy three get one free. For your first movie ever, I'd like you to do the honors of choosing."

He squints at each one like it's a foreign language. All of them are animated children's movies from the past thirty years or so. You're afraid anything more than a lighthearted kids cartoon would be too much for him, rather than yourself.

"The Fox and the Hound, The Princess and the Frog, Ponyo, and The Land Before Time," he reads aloud. He looks mildly concerned. "These are all age-appropriate, right?"

"I think your mind can handle these all, so yes."

"I meant for you, dear." He picks The Fox and the Hound movie case. "When I was younger, still a human, I had a bloodhound that looks like the dog here." You can't resist smiling at how cliche that sounds. Octavian puts the case down. "Ah, before we start, should I make some snacks?"

"Snacks!" you repeat happily and start getting up, but he pushes you back down gently.

"I'll make them, sweetling," he says. "Just stay here and wait, okay? Don't start the movie without me!" There's a playful spark in his eyes before he starts toward the kitchen.

"I won't, I won't," you laugh.

Barely five minutes later, he comes back with a bowl full of popcorn and two glasses balanced on the same tray. He's careful when he gives them to you.

As he pops open the DVD player and slides the disk inside, you notice him struggle with getting everything just right. You know he doesn't want you helping him, so instead you just lean back and pop pieces of popcorn into your mouth.

There's a few minutes of shuffling around and fiddling with the buttons, then the screen brightens and music begins playing. Octavian hurries back to the fort, careful not to step on any of the pillows and blankets. Finally, he settles in beside you, wraps an arm around your shoulder, and pulls you close to his chest.

The usual trailers started to play.

At a trailer for the Beauty and The Beast sequel, Octavian points. "Oh, that one looks lovely. I would love to see that when it comes out."

You shake your head fondly. "It's been out for probably two decades at least." Once again, his amazed expression is amusing.

The beginning scene starts, and Octavian is already clutching you closer. "The mother fox is going to be killed!"

"Papa, it's not real, don't worry," you reassure.

Octavian's expressions change rapidly, already emotionally invested from the first few seconds. He lifts you into his lap to cradle you like a baby when the mother fox hides her baby away to save him from the dog chasing her. His clutch tightens when the gunshots go off, insinuating her death. His wide-eyed stare of horror almost makes you feel bad.

"Are all movies like this?" he asks in horror.

"No," you answer. "But older movies like these were a bit more violent than most of today's movies meant for kids." You pat his chest lightly in reassurance.

"It has a happy ending at least, right?"

"Uh..." you trail off. "No spoilers."

Though he continues clutching you during moments of tension in the movie, his reactions make it worth the discomfort. You find yourself focusing more on him than the actual story. During every sad or remotely violent scene, Octavian covers your eyes with his palm.

His reactions end up feeling more like the movie rather than the one being played by the TV. Octavian does not have a good poker face at all, even if he were trying to subdue his reactions to each scene.

Despite it being a little intense, there are a lot of sweet scenes too, to which Octavian relaxes and stares at the television, absentmindedly petting your hair and kissing your forehead. His affectionate gestures are also distracting, but it feels nice to just be held like this after such a long day.

"Who's your favorite so far?" you ask.

He thinks about it briefly. "The owl, but I also do love Tod. I'll cry if anything happens to him. I definitely do not like that hunter." It makes you smile seeing how strongly he feels for the characters.

For the entire hour and a half, Octavian's reactions range from sorrow to shock to laughter to anger to amusement.

After the final scene plays and the credits begin, he stares at the TV. "That's... it? I thought they'd be friends again and live off somewhere happier!"

"It's a bittersweet ending."

He dramatically sighs, resting his cheek on top of your head. "That was the saddest thing ever. You broke my heart, (Y/n). Are you proud of yourself? You broke your poor father's heart." Despite this, he doesn't seem truly upset, just acting as if he were heartbroken.

"Well, this is your first-ever movie! If you didn't end up sobbing your heart out, then it wouldn't count as a successful movie experience." You snuggle closer against him. "Did you like it?"

"I loved it, believe it or not. Can we watch another one?" He hugs you even closer. "Something happier this time, for heaven's sake."

"Ponyo it is!"

[thewafflebear]

Animation draft for a small AU. Actually it's a pretty common AU(runaway). But this one is a bit different in the fact that that our favorite night fury and his human meet a female along the way. This is still a WIP so the dragons look a bit....strange

[peachycocaine]

She's such a fucking whore, i love it.

Pairings: Thanos x Fem!reader (she matches his freak in this ig)

Tw: mutual masturbation, squirting, cumshot, slut shaming, degrading, drug usage, mentions of death. 18+ minors dni.

It was meal time, the soldiers handed out food as people gathered around in a line. He started looking for you in the line, but you weren't there. He saw you by your bed, stuffing your hand down your shirt. At first he was taken aback but it seemed like you were finding something in there, you pulled out a packet of cigarette from your bra and looked around before inspecting it and opening it to make sure there was still some left in it. Thanos saw this and chuckled, there really was more to you. You quickly stuffed the packet back into your bra and got up, walking towards the restroom. Thanos followed right behind you.

He sneaked into the women's restroom, relieved when he saw there was no one else besides you two in there. He knocked at the door of the stall you were in. You froze as you were just about to light a cigarette, did someone catch you? "Occupied!!" You yelled out, hoping the person would leave. "Yo, open this door i gotta have a word with ya." The deep voice startles you, why the fuck was there a man in the womens restroom but god you were curious about what he had to say. You shoved the cigarette into your pocket before opening the door, you looked up to see the purple haired lunatic who was acting up during the game standing right infront of you. "What do you want?" Your tone bold, thanos just puts his hands in the air "woah woah senõrita.. no need to get all fiesty, lemme in would ya?" A smug smirk crawled up on his lips, you rolled your eyes allowing him in and locking the door behind him.

"Saw you pull out a pack of cigs, just wanted to have a lil' smoke with you" he says as he leans against the door. You take a seat on the lidded toilet spreading your legs a little, making him whistle. You scoffed "only got one cigarette, it's puff puff pass, alright?" You mumble out as you light the cigarette between your lips. He drinks in the delicious sight, watching you inhale the smoke. You hold out the cigarette to him, maintaining eye contact with him as he takes it from your hand. You watch the way he brings the cig up to the lips, taking a drag then inhaling it, then blowing it back out. Something about the way he did it made you bite your lip and rub your thighs together. He chuckled as he watched your demeanor shift.

"Y'know i got something crazier than tobacco, this shit's a baby drug. I got the real stuff right here" he grinned as he held out the chunky cross necklace, kissing it before opening it. In the necklace were pills, each a different color. He chuckles at the way your eyes gleamed with curiosity. He pops one in his mouth then closes the necklace again. "What about me?? You didn't even give me one!" You say as you cross your arms "what's in it for me senõrita?" He teasingly says with a shit eating grin on his face. "I literally let you have a fair share of my last cigarette and you're not even gonna offer me one?" You couldn't believe this cocky motherfucker, you were so generous but at what cost? He just snickers at your temper "tell you what beauty flower, put on a good show f' me and i might consider giving you one" you scoff as you realize what he meant before unzipping your jacket, slowly.

You tossed your jacket aside before lifting your shirt up, just enough for him to be able to see your bra. You catch the fabric of your shirt between your teeth as you run your hands around your chest, occasionally squeezing one of your concealed breasts. He licks his lips as he sees you completely whoring out over a pill. "Give me more, bitch. Let me see how slutty you can get" his voice was raspy as he cupped his erect cock that twitched in his pants. You unclasp your bra, letting your breasts free. He groans at that as he rubbed his clothed cock. "Fuck- you got such a sexy pair, i bet ya get your way with everything with those" you hated to admit it, but you liked the way he outright sexually objectified you. He finally pulled his pants down, you watched as his cock sprung out. Precum beading at the tip as it twitched, it was big and girthy. He smeared the precum across your breast before spitting down onto his cock, some of the saliva falling onto your boobs. He starts rotating his wrist and jerking his cock in a slow pace. "Come on slut, finger fuck yourself as i get jerk off to your tits." Without any objections, you pull down your trousers along with your panties. Sitting back on the toilet as you spread your legs, you circle your clit with your finger tip, soft moans falling from your lips. Thanos grins as you start touching yourself, his cock throbbing under his touch.

You sunk 2 digits into your wet heat, pumping them in and out. He gawks at the view pathetically as he starts jacking himself off faster. You match his pace, fucking yourself faster as he does too, whines and moans slip past your lips as you look up at him jerking himself off right infront of your face. He looks down at your glossy eyes, groaning at the way you held eye contact with him while you two got off on eachother. You bring up a hand to your chest, rubbing at your sensitive erect nipple as you continue fingering yourself. "Look at you, slutting yourself out on a stranger. You're such a whore." He grins as he sees the way you twitch at his words. You pump your digits in and out faster as you felt something building up in your tummy, throwing your head back as you let out the sluttiest whimpers. Thanos increases his pace too, gliding his hand across his cock faster and rougher. His breath hitched when you started grinding against your fingers, your legs shook abruptly as you fucked yourself onto your fingers. " 'm cumming f-fuck Oh! Sh-fuck.. fuck fuck fuck" you screamed as you felt the coil snap. Watery liquid sprayed out of your pussy as your whole body shook, falling everywhere. You snapped your eyes shut as you realized you had squirted all over thanos, not daring to even look at him.

Thanos' eyes widened but his pace doesn't falter, instead he goes faster. He lets out a breathy chuckle while continuing to fuck his fist "fuck you really are a whore aren't you baby? You made such a fucking mess out of yourself. 'M gonna make you my cock slave" your cheeks heated up, this was embarrassing, but you didn't know it turned him on even more. His hand came down to a harsh slap to your cheek, making you gasp and open your eyes. "Look at me when i'm speaking to you, slut." His voice cracked a bit, you knew he was about to cum. "C-cum all over me, please.. cover me in your cum" you mumble out while you look up at him with those fuck-me eyes. He chuckles, cupping your cheeks. "You want it that badly, whore?" You nod, not breaking eye contact with him. He mutters out a silent "fuck" before hot ropes of cum shoot right out, marking your tits and face, some of it got onto your hair too. His dick twitches as he empties more of his creamy thick load onto you before he runs his hand through his hair. "Fucking hell.." is all he mutters out as his eyes scan over your now cum covered body. "Wish i had my phone so i could take a pic of this shit."

He opens his cross necklace, placing a pill on his tongue then kneels down to your level. Pulling you into a open mouthed kiss, making sure you swallowed the pill. "There, as i promised."

[tender-rosiey]

Hii, can I request a fic where sukuna is trying to court the reader but she's still scared of him and doesn't realize what he's trying to do?🫶🏾

tethered — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i could not let reader be trampled on; am sorry :( i mean you can tell she is scared but she aint gon take crap from him ALSO if you guys saw that I used this sukuna panel before, pls tell me tyyy

the room feels far too small with him in it, despite its towering ceilings and wide stone floors. his presence suffocates every inch of space, like the weight of a storm pressing down on you, demanding attention.

your hands tremble slightly as you pour tea into the lacquered cup, but you force them to steady. you’ve been doing this long enough to know better than to show fear, even if your pulse hammers in your throat.

the weight of sukuna’s gaze is heavy, as always, but you keep your eyes trained on the task, pretending not to notice the way he watches your every move, like a predator biding its time.

you place the tea in front of him, bowing respectfully.

yet the air between you shifts—his presence thick with something unfamiliar. you glance up, wary, only to find his eyes, crimson and sharp, still locked onto you.

that smile—the one that sends chills racing down your spine—curves his lips.

“you’re trembling again,” he says, his voice low, dark amusement coloring every word.

you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe slowly, evenly.

“it’s cold, my lord,” you respond, as calmly as you can manage, though the lie feels feeble. everyone knows that with sukuna in the room, it’s never the cold you have to fear.

he leans forward slightly, one of his lower arms lazily resting on the table, the other two still folded across his broad chest. “is that so?” his voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it that unsettles you more than his usual biting remarks.

you’ve heard the whispers, the rumors—how he’s been different lately, his focus shifted. and it’s not hard to guess where that focus lies.

you’ve felt the shift, too. the extra care given to your meals, the finery left in your chambers, and the subtle way he’s been keeping you close. too close.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, nerves flaring. “I don’t mean to waste your time, my lord. if there’s nothing else, I should return to my duties.”

his chuckle fills the room, rich and deep, as though you’ve just said something absurdly amusing. “so eager to leave?” he asks, his voice low. “I’ve been generous, haven’t I?”

there’s something different in his tone now, something dangerous. your stomach knots as his gaze sharpens, studying you with unnerving intensity.

“my lord, I—” you stop yourself, choosing your words carefully. the last thing you want is to provoke him. “you’ve been more than kind. but I am still just a servant. I don’t require such attention.”

his smile widens, showing more of his sharp teeth, the predatory glint in his eyes growing darker. one of his upper hands moves, reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze head-on.

“just a servant?” he repeats, voice dripping with mockery. “you really think I would waste my time on someone who means nothing?”

you swallow hard, refusing to flinch under his touch. his hand is surprisingly gentle, but the power behind it is unmistakable. you force yourself to meet his eyes, despite every instinct screaming at you to look away.

“I—I…think I don’t know why you would waste your time on someone who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”

his eyes flash with something dark and unreadable, but it isn’t anger. it’s interest. you can see the amusement flickering beneath the surface, and it sends another chill down your spine.

“you think you’re brave?” he muses, his voice lowering to a dark whisper. “or perhaps foolish?”

your breath hitches, his words unsettling. “I don’t think it’s foolish to speak honestly,” you reply, voice steadier than you feel. “especially when I’ve done nothing to earn the attention of someone like you.”

sukuna leans forward again, all four arms now resting on the arms of his throne as he stares you down. the air feels heavier, charged with something dangerous and electric.

his voice drops low, smooth as silk but with a dark edge. “you’ve earned it by surviving in my presence this long. by not running when you had the chance. that interests me.”

your heart races, the closeness unnerving, but you refuse to back down. “I’m here because it’s my duty,” you manage, your voice sharp and defiant. “not because I seek your favor or your… gifts.”

sukuna laughs then, the sound deep and rumbling, like distant thunder.

“ah, so you do notice my gifts. modest as they are.” he leans in closer, one of his lower hands brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “tell me, little servant, if it’s not favor you seek, what do you want?”

your stomach flips, the closeness sending a wave of heat through your cheeks, but you stand firm.

“I want to be left alone,” you reply bluntly, trying not to flinch under his gaze. “I want to do my duties without feeling like prey every time I enter the room.”

his eyes narrow slightly, a dangerous glint flashing in them, but there’s something else too. amusement. curiosity. he’s not angry—if anything, he seems more intrigued than before.

“you think you’re prey?” he muses, his voice lowering to a dark whisper. “perhaps you are. or perhaps, you’ve already caught the ‘predator’s’ attention in ways you don’t yet understand.”

his words sending a chill down your spine, but you stand firm. “If I have, it’s not by choice, sukuna-sama.”

his smile softens, just a fraction, but it’s no less menacing. he rises from his seat, towering over you as he closes the distance between you in a heartbeat.

his four hands move with calculated grace, two of them resting on either side of your face, trapping you in place as he looms over you.

“choice is an illusion for you humans,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “but you’ll come to understand that in time.”

despite the trembling in your limbs, you lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a newfound defiance. “I’m not afraid of you.”

he smirks, his eyes gleaming with approval at your boldness. “good. fear is boring.”

then, in a startlingly unexpected move, he leans down, brushing his lips against your forehead—an act of tenderness that catches you completely off guard.

the warmth of his breath lingers, and the moment stretches between you, almost surreal.

“besides,” he continues, voice low and surprisingly gentle, “I find your spirit rather… enticing.”

your heart races, confusion mingling with the fear that had gripped you moments before.

this man, this powerful being, was something else entirely, and as you step back, you can’t shake the strange warmth that blooms in your chest.

with that, he releases you, stepping back and letting the tension between you linger like smoke in the air.

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do not copy or plagiarize

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[soaln]

i read ur op jealous hcs and they were so cute ! i also saw that you mentioned your inbox was open, so can i request zoro x reader who’s the completely opposite of him? reader who’s sweet and kind to everyone, and very gentle unlike their mosshead bf.. i love him lol

𝓞𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : pure fluff, gender isn't mentioned. I realized I have a lot Sanji and Zoro request 😭😭 anyw req open I changed few things｡— ◟ 𖦹

The sun was setting low on the horizon, casting warm light across the deck of the Thousand Sunny like it was made of gold. The ocean stretched out endlessly, a sparkling blue as the ship drifted smoothly over the waves. You were sitting on the railing, your outline lit up by the fading light, your fingers busy making a crown out of flowers. Each petal brought a splash of color—soft pinks, creamy whites, and bright yellows—showing off your easy-going vibe and the simple happiness you found in little things.

Zoro was standing across the deck, looking like a statue made of stone as he pumped some weights with serious determination. His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his green hair—which everyone joked looked like messy moss—was shining with sweat under the setting sun. He was the definition of strength and toughness, rarely saying much and showing even less weakness. But every now and then, his sharp eyes would wander over to you, pulled in by the warmth of your presence.

You two were totally different. While you were all about warmth and sunshine, he had this tough vibe that felt shady and intense. Your kindness shone like a beacon, making people feel good, while Zoro’s rough edge seemed to push folks away. Still, there was this cool connection between you that neither of you could fully put into words, but you both respected it a lot.

“Oi,” he said, his voice deep and rough as he walked up to you, a towel tossed over his shoulder. “What’s up? Just hanging out here alone?”

You turned to him, your smile as radiant as daylight. In your hands, you held the finished flower crown, its delicate magnificence a stark contrast to the man before you. “I made this for you,” you told, your voice a melody that seemed to soften even the edges of his hardened demeanor

Zoro’s brow arched, his expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. “Flowers? Seriously?”

You laughed, the sound like wind chimes dancing in a gentle breeze. Rising to your feet, you placed the crown atop his head, your fingers brushing lightly against his green hair. “There,” you declared, your tone teasing yet tender. “Now you look like a silly warrior ruler.”

A faint blush crept across his cheeks, and he reached up to remove the crown, but your hand caught his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it on,” you pleaded, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just for a little while, Please?”

He hesitated, his hand hovering in the air, before he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly. “But if anyone sees me like this, I’m blaming thus on you.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Zoro,” you murmured, your voice warm filled gratitude. “You’re the best.”

He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but the faint blush that wiped his cheeks betrayed his true feelings. Beneath his gruff exterior, Zoro sheltered a deep appreciation for your gentle nature, even if he would never admit it aloud.

As the crew began to gather for dinner, the deck came alive with the sounds of laughter and camaraderie. Luffy’s wild voice echoed across the ship as he demanded more meat, while Sanji moved with practiced grace, setting the table with his usual flair. Nami and Robin conversed in calm tones, their laughter like music, while Usopp and Chopper animatedly recited one of their many adventures.

Zoro glanced at you, his expression softening in a way that was reserved only for you. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go eat before Luffy devours everything.”

You nodded, slipping your hand into his, your fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to fit together. “Okay,” you smiled, your smile as bright as the stars beginning to appear in the night sky. “But you’re keeping the flower crown on, right?” You grinned.

He rolled his eyes at you, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his actual feelings. “Yeah, yeah,” he stated, his tone gruff but affectionate. “Whatever makes you happy.”

After that, the two of you joined the rest of the crew, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you like a warm blanket. Despite your differences, you and Zoro were a perfect match—a symphony of opposites that created a harmony all your own. And in that moment, you knew that your gentle heart and his rugged soul were forever intertwined

[obsessedwithceleste]

Why Couldn’t It’ve Been Minigolf

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this request 🫶🏽 inspired by this vid

Summary: modern! au, your boyfriend is working at a haunted house, but you’d prefer to be literally anywhere else at the carnival.

word count: 1.9k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

The cool autumn air sends a shiver down your spine as you tug your jacket closer, goosebumps beginning to appear as you and your friends push your way through the crowded lanes of the fair. Your boyfriend was here somewhere, allegedly, volunteering and you and your friends had thought you’d come surprise him. The only issue now was where to find him.

“I’m starving, let’s stop at the food trucks,” Pansy decides, dragging your group towards the rows of colorful trucks offering just about every kind of carnival food imaginable.

It could all be rather suffocating really. When it came to the autumn carnival, your town spared no expense. From the glowing neon signs hanging from every stall to the aisles of carnival games that seemed to stretch on forever, it was really the place to be. Even now as Mattheo pulls you in line for his favorite booth you’re overwhelmed with all the smells. The popcorn, the melted caramel, the deep fried corn dogs, pumpkin spice.

“Want some? If you don’t have any now there’ll be none left after Theo gets his hands on it,” Mattheo says, offering you his opened bag of kettle corn.

“Oh my god, I’m honored. The last time Blaise tried to steal some of your kettle corn you damn near bit his hand off,” you joke, graciously accepting a handful of the sugar coated treat.

Once everyone is situated with their food, you continue your way through the crowds, eyes scanning the different faces for your boyfriend.

"Think he could be over at the petting zoo?" Daphne asks, gesturing to the sectioned off area of the fair where a variety of goats, sheep, even an alpaca are roaming about as kids try offering them pieces of hay that they'd picked up off the ground.

"You're only suggesting we go over there because you want to see the ponies," Pansy laughs, taking a bite of her corn dog.

"Uh yeah, who wouldn't want to see the ponies?" Daphne retorts.

Pansy raises her hand.

"C'mon, I'll go with you, we can catch up with the rest in a bit," Enzo offers, stepping between the two bickering girls, the rest of you watching in amusement.

Daphne graciously takes Enzo's arm, turning to stick her tongue out teasingly at Pans before the two disappear through the crowds.

"Alright, where do we actually think Theodore could be hiding out?" Pansy asks, turning to you. "I'd like to actually enjoy the carnival a bit outside of hunting down Theo."

Fair enough.

"Well, we haven't checked the corn maze, glow-in-the-dark minigolf, I think there are bumper carts around here somewhere," you list off, checking off each attraction on your fingers.

"The haunted house," Mattheo adds.

You feel yourself deflate at the mention of the haunted house. You'd really been hoping they'd forget about it, but of course it would be top of Matt's mind, he loved that type of thing.

"Alright well, I'm not navigating through farmer's purgatory with you lot, even if it's to find Theo, so you can take the corn maze off the list," Draco declares.

Not that anyone was really going to complain about that.

“I personally think we should go to the haunted house first,” Mattheo says, continuing to chow down on his kettle corn, pieces spewing from his mouth as he speaks.

You recoil away from the boy.

“Of course you would want to go there first,” you sigh, lip curling at the thought.

You’d never understood the appeal of having the shit scared out of you on purpose. Haunted houses, horror movies had never been entirely your cup of tea, but you always seemed to be dragged along by your friends.

“Alternatively, you guys can go search the haunted house, Blaise and I will go check out the bumper cars,” Draco interjects, looking rather weezy at the idea of the haunted house.

He’d never had much of a stomach for all the horror thrills either.

“Coward,” Pansy mutters under a poorly executed, feigned cough.

Draco makes a face at the girl.

“Let him go Pans, wouldn’t want him to wet his pants again would we?” Matt jeers. You give him a sharp jab with your elbow. “Ow!” Mattheo frowns at you, rubbing his side.

“Be nice.”

“I was seven,” Draco grumbles as he turns to slink off.

“Oh look what you’ve done, now he’s upset,” you sigh, glaring at your curly haired friend.

Mattheo just shrugs, looking completely unbothered as he tosses another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Fine, whatever, now that you two have managed to run everyone else off, we might as well get the haunted house over and done with,” you say with exasperation when the other two remain completely unfazed.

Sometimes you thought those two really deserved each other.

The three of you make your way towards the haunted house attraction and you ruefully eye the minigolf course as your little group bustles by. Maybe it wasn't too late to convince your friends to go there instead.

Tragically for you however, Mattheo and Pansy manage to drag you to the queue of the haunted house before you're able to get a word in edgewise.

Standing in line, you feel your palms begin to sweat already, the nerves really beginning to settle in. The line is going much too fast for your liking, you haven't gotten the proper chance to emotionally prepare yourself as your feet shuffle forward. It's not until the skeletons at the entrance jump out at you and you feel yourself jolt back into Pansy that you're sure this is a horrible idea.

"Come on now, don't back out on us now," Mattheo laughs, prodding you forward. "I heard they made it even scarier than last year," he says giddily.

Why were you friends with this lunatic?

“Sign here,” one of the attendants orders gruffly, directing your eyes to a slip of paper sitting on the counter in front of you.

Against your better judgment, you scribble your name in the dotted line, not even bothering to read whatever the hell you had just signed.

“Relax, it’s just saying you won’t sue if you get scared and trip and fall or something. It shouldn’t even be that bad. The actors can’t touch you or anything,” Pansy says, trying to reassure you as you’re ushered through the next door. It doesn’t work.

It’s not long before the regret sinks in. It’s rather immediate actually. Instant regret.

It’s dark and cold and the first room is covered in bones, fake blood, the works. Strobe lights flash, disorienting you until you can’t tell the mannequins from the live actors and you can feel yourself begin to shake as you’re not sure what’s about to jump out at you next.

With each room, you draw closer and closer to Pansy until you’re finally grabbing at her arm, your grip so tight it leaves indents on her pale skin.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she laughs. “Look. You can clearly see where that actor’s mask was supposed to be tucked into their shirt. Amateur,” she snorts, pointing at the guy with a spinning chainsaw that had been practically breathing down your neck a moment earlier.

Your friend was a psychopath, you decided then and there.

As you continue on through the trenches, you find yourself jumping and screeching at every turn while Pansy and Mattheo look as if they’re just taking a friendly stroll through the park. You swear you even see one of the scare actors jump a little when Mattheo yells back at them, his eyes crossing and tongue hanging out of his mouth. And then your soul immediately leaves your body once more as you realize a murderous clown had snuck up on you while you were distracted.

It could not be too soon when you finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. The light being the exit sign of course.

As you make your way towards it, you’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. It all happens so fast. One moment you think you’re finally free, the next you watch in horrified fascination as a scare actor charges toward you, dipping into a swooping, slide that stops just short of your feet before smoothly standing back up, letting out an ear piercing scream just inches away from your face.

They’re screaming, you’re screaming, you can’t tell where your scream starts and their scream ends, and Mattheo is standing to the side laughing his ass off.

At this point you’re practically using Pansy as a human shield when the scare actor suddenly stops and peaks over Pansy’s shoulder at you. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but you would know that mischievous smirk anywhere.

“I’m going to kill you!” You screech, lunging at your boyfriend.

Theo and Matt are both laughing now as Pansy catches you just in time, holding you back as you try and grab at Theo.

“Easy there, you can give him a piece of your mind later,” she says, trying to keep things somewhat under control.

But you were having none of it. These two assholes, Theo and Matt that is, had been plotting against you this entire time. Mattheo sharing his popcorn had probably just been a way to lull you into a false sense of security. You glare at the pair who now at least have the decency to collect themselves as you shove past them.

“I knew we should have just gone to the minigolf course,” you mutter as you sulk out of the haunted house, trying to look as pathetic as possible in hopes of making Theo and Matt feel particularly guilty.

It doesn’t work on Mattheo who happily follows you outside, but you can tell by the way Theo’s eyes are glued to you, lips turned ever so slightly into a pout that you have that boy wrapped around your finger.

It had only gotten colder, the sun just dipping below the horizon when Theo finally catches up with the rest of you. You can still see remnants of his white face paint stained across his face as he wraps his arms around you.

"You didn't tell me you were volunteering as a scare actor," you accuse as your arms snake around your boyfriend. “Think that information would’ve been nice to have ya asshole.”

"We were just joking with you, I didn't think you'd actually be that terrified," Theo replies, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"You know how I feel about haunted houses," you try to protest.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry carissima. Let me make it up to you?"

“Mmm I can think of a couple ways you could do that,” you reply, a grin slowly spreading across your face as you look up at your boyfriend.

“Hey! Are we playing minigolf or what?” Mattheo calls out, tossing Theo one of the dinky little clubs which he catches with ease.

“Watch your back Riddle, I’m not done with you,” you respond, grabbing your own club and plucking one of the glowing golf balls off the rack. “You’re not gonna know what hit you.”

You see Mattheo gulp as you brush past him to join Pansy.

“They’re talking figuratively right mate? They wouldn’t actually hit me with a golf club,” you hear him mutter to Theo.

Your boyfriend just laughs.

“You’re on your own for this one Matt, I’d like to keep my head thanks.”

I do so love a good out of season prompt🤭

[pawsometoons]

Defaced

Soooo I got way more autistic than I should've been over these presumed ENA looking face masks from ENA Dream BBQ

Because these ALL look like faces you would see on characters similar to ENA herself. The face split between 2 different colors, the mismatched eyes, these look like faces you'd see people make in their first time making an ENA oc to put it simply (no shade to that since that's literally what I did too)

And then I started thinking way too hard. These couldn't have been just some simple face masks. These far too eerily close to the facial features of an ENA. These are faces TAKEN from ENAs!

Now you may be asking, "Paw how the FUCK did you come up with that bullshit, how did the hoarder guy even GET those if this was true?" And to that I say, 1: let me explain, and 2: the mf stole from a MORGUE OKAY???

The reason why my theory here is that these are the faces of defaced ENAs is for a multitude of reasons. For one, SO MANY PEOPLE HATE ENA. Like a ridiculous amount of the characters in the game and webseries reject ENA for being well... ENA. And it's already vaguely confirmed that other ENAs exist. And that the webseries and game ENAs are two existing ones. Time and time again, their both scrutinized and rejected because of who they are until they make attempts to get what they want, interrupted through their unstable emotions.

So ENAs are scrutinized and "unpopular everywhere" as some put it.

As for another, this is tied to another vaguely confirmed theory that ENAs turn into mannequins when they die. Like in the scene where ENA gets stuck in the lonely door and becomes a mannequin. She is faceless by that point. Giving the theory that both or either when an ENA loses their face, they die, and when an ENA dies, they lose their face. This brings up another theory. Since ENAs can still revive by taking the place of other mannequins. This being because ENA lost her face when she died. Not died by losing her face.

So when an ENA dies from their face being taken away, they become a mannequin permanently. Thus not only explains why there's so many mannequins walking and lying around. But also explains those faces.

ENAs can't revive if their faces are taken. Which takes us to the main theory. ENAs will sometimes be hunted for their faces and turned into mannequins to stop their behavior that is universally unaccepted in this world.

Oh yeah, and by "Her" ENA meant the webseries ENA. Cause I headcanon them as sisters. Yea.

[kingkaisen]

“LET’S HAVE ANOTHER BABY.”

♡ — SUMMARY: After getting adopted by you & Satoru, Yuji & Megumi are both adjusting to their new lives differently. Meanwhile, you & Satoru decide to have another baby.

♡ — CONTENT: 18+ ONLY // MINORS DNI — smut (penetration, unprotected sex, finishing inside, oral fem receiving), fem reader, fluff, slight angst (megumi and yuji aren’t used to feeling loved, megumi worries a lot). you & Satoru have a biological daughter.

♡ — WC: 5K

♡ — A/N: this is part 4 to my dad!gojo series. I’d really recommend reading the previous part, but it isn’t necessary.

“ . . . and my brother’s room is next to mine, and my sister’s room is down the hall! Mom and Dad’s room is upstairs too. Do you have any of those? A mom and dad? I have both now!”

Standing in line at a family-owned restaurant known as Happy Crepes — where the employees, young and old, happily made sweet or savory crepes in front of you, and everything was decorated in a soft yellow color, too — Yuji Itadori grinned, placing the clear straw belonging to his cup of soda in between his teeth.

As he stood there, chatting with the twenty-something-year-old employee behind the counter who took a scoop of crepe batter and spread it in a circular motion on the pan, his curious eyes watched the crepe start to form.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” the employee paused, “but most teenagers are sick of their parents and siblings. Why are you so . . . Ya know . . .”

“Why do I keep talking about them?” Yuji tilted his head a bit, raising his eyebrows, one hand in his pocket as the other one held on to his cup.

“Yeah.”

“Oh!” With a bright smile, Yuji said, “Well, they adopted me!”

“Oh, really?” This time, the man raised his eyebrows, but in surprise. He stepped to the right, grabbing the handle of a large spoon sitting inside of the bowl of chopped strawberries, and he gave it a little stir. “Congratulations, dude. I heard it’s rare for teenagers to get adopted.”

“Thanks,” Yuji’s smile never faltered. “The crepes are for my mom and dad, actually. They do a lot for me, so I try to do what I can for them, ya know? I wasn’t alone for my entire life, I had my grandpa until he passed away, but . . . having a mom? It’s the greatest thing ever. Kinda weird having someone wait for you to come home, or worry about whether or not your clothes are warm enough. The other day — when it was really cold for some reason — we all went to a baseball game, and she got upset with me for not remembering to bring a jacket.”

“And you were happy about that? Your mom being mad at you?” The employee flipped the crepe.

“Yeah, I was. She was only upset with me because she cared about me. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have minded if I froze my butt off. Anyway, she got me a hotdog afterward.”

As the employee prepared two crepes with chocolate syrup, chopped strawberries, and whipped cream, he listened to the younger boy continue to ramble on and on about his family.

It was fascinating, truly.

Most teenagers his age wouldn’t have thought twice about their parents buying them concession stand food or would have been annoyed if their mothers fussed about them forgetting to bring a jacket. But Yuji cherished every single memory.

Yuji grabbed the paper bag with crepes inside, paid for the sweet treats, and made his way out of the glass door as he said to the employee, “I’ll see you later! Thanks!”

—

MEANWHILE . . .

“Satoru,” with a small grin, you grabbed a little black dress off of the rack, pressing it against your body as you turned to face your husband. “What do you think? Should I get this?”

Gojo smirked, his blue eyes scanning the dress from behind his sunglasses.

“I think it looks great,” leaning down, he pressed a kiss against your cheek, and when he pulled away, he whispered in your ear, “Buy whatever you want. I’m just happy I’ll get to take it off of you later.”

“Hush!” You couldn’t fight off the grin that decorated your beautiful face. “We’re in public, have some decorum. It’s a very nice store, and I’d hate to get kicked out because of your dirty mouth.”

“Really?” He pressed a gentle kiss against your ear. “Quicker we get kicked out, quicker we can go home, and I can finally-”

“Mommy?” your biological daughter, Maya, suddenly appeared at your side and tugged on your clothes, looking up at you with eyes glistening with worry and concern. “I’m hungry.”

“We will get some lunch as soon as Yuji comes back, okay, honey? Let’s go check out so we’ll be ready.” Pulling away from your lovingly frustrating husband, you smile down at your little girl as you spoke. Then, you tossed the black dress in your cart, which was packed with clothes for your entire family.

It was a rather beautiful Saturday and the perfect day to go shopping with everyone.

While walking along the plaza, packed with amazing stores and restaurants, Yuji broke away from you all momentarily as he eagerly wanted to go into Happy Crepes.

Meanwhile, the rest of you made your way around the high-priced clothing store.

Making your way toward the checkout area, you glanced around, frowning a bit as you said, “Where’s Megumi?”

“Meg-mi’s over there,” your daughter pointed at the quiet teenager behind you — a short distance away — who lingered around, holding two outfits and a pair of shoes in his arms.

She ran up to him, grabbed ahold of his clothes — one habit your little girl hadn’t been able to break yet, grabbing at people’s clothes and whatnot — and she pulled him along until they both caught up with you and Satoru.

“Are you alright?” You questioned Megumi, taking the clothes he picked out and putting them into your cart. “What’s wrong? Are you hungry too? We’re about to have lunch.”

“It’s not that,” Megumi mumbled. “I’m fine.”

You shared a look with Satoru. It was obvious Megumi was lying.

Being that your biological daughter was still young, you didn’t start reading the “Raising a Teenager” book series until you adopted Megumi and Yuji, and needed to learn as much as you could as soon as possible.

And — according to Chapter 6 — teenagers would often lie to hide their feelings from their parents out of embarrassment, shyness, or simply because they think their parents don’t understand them.

And for an adopted teenager, one who had their fair share of trauma as well, it was all the more true.

“Are you sure?” You asked once again, giving him a look of caring concern.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Hey,” Satoru looked over at you as he suddenly spoke up. “Why don’t you go ahead and check out? I wanna have a little chat with Megumi.”

“Alright,” a wave of relief washed over you, and you looked down at your little girl. “Come on, honey.”

After all, Satoru was more than just a new parent. He had been Megumi’s teacher for a decade as well, and if anyone could figure out what was wrong, it was him.

Satoru looked down at the grumpy teenager.

“Let me guess,” he paused. “You didn’t wanna buy any new clothes, did you?”

“It just feels weird.” Megumi’s response — which came out rushed and in a brutally honest tone, caught Satoru by surprise a bit. He didn’t expect him to open up so quickly, much less while standing in the middle of a store.

“How?”

“She asked me to pick out some clothes, but I didn’t know if I was getting too much, or not enough. I also didn’t know if I was supposed to ask if what I picked was okay or not, or if I was just supposed to put it in the cart.”

“Oh, I see,” Satoru said. “You’re used to buying your own clothes, and not thinking much about it.”

“Yeah,” Megumi looked down at his shoes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but it’s just odd for me. I’ll get used to it, though.”

As the dark-haired boy spoke, Satoru realized something — an unspoken truth that Megumi had revealed with his words.

“I’m grateful . . . I’ll get used to it . . .”

Those little phrases were shoved in as Megumi spoke about his feelings, almost as if he didn’t want to offend Satoru, but the older man knew that it was something deeper than that.

“Megumi,” Satoru lowered his voice a bit, pausing as his student and son looked up at him. “We’re not going to change our minds about wanting you to be a part of this family just because you’re not adjusting as fast as Yuji.”

Megumi was silent. Shocked.

“I know it’s a lot,” Satoru smiled softly. “Family dinners, movie nights, chores, constant hugging . . . and I went from being your teacher to being your dad. I get it, kid. But you don’t have to call us mom and dad anytime soon, alright? And it’s okay if it takes you a while to settle in. Just know that we care about you.”

As Megumi gave a small nod, the white-haired man reached over and ruffled his hair. And, like clockwork, Megumi told him to cut it out while fighting off a smile.

Truth be told, Megumi wasn’t completely unfamiliar with being loved and cared for by you and Gojo.

After all, he had known both of you for years, long before you officially adopted him, and while it wasn’t as constant as it was now, he always received some form of affection from you both — be it clothes, a warm meal every now and then, or a place to stay when being on campus wasn’t preferred.

But officially being your son now meant that he had a family, and the amount of affection and caring acts he received had doubled. Tripled, even.

He loved it, truly. Despite everything that he had been through, he was still a kid, and he naturally dreamed of having a loving family. He was no different than Yuji when it came to that.

But he was also scared. Terrified. He’d lie awake at night in his new bed in his new bedroom, unable to close his eyes and rest.

What if you changed your mind about wanting him? He wasn’t as hyper and affectionate as Yuji, and you only decided to adopt Megumi — despite having known him for years — once Yuji appeared in your life fairly recently.

Perhaps, you only adopted Megumi as well simply so he wouldn’t feel left out. That would make sense, right? Why else would you want to call a grumpy, overly independent teenager your son?

He’d always try to shake off those negative thoughts. Part of him knew that you and Gojo truly cared for him. Part of him knew that — despite what his anxiety led him to believe — he could rest comfortably in his new bed, because it belonged to him, and you would never take it from him.

But he was scared of something else, too.

Being loved.

He truly didn’t grasp the concept of it — it, being love — until he came home one day, later than planned, and found that you were wide awake in the middle of the night, waiting for him, worry written all over your face.

It was the same look from that one night when you all went to the baseball game, and you realized that Yuji didn’t have a jacket.

What frightened him about being loved was the fact that if something happened to you or anyone else in his new family, it would break his heart. He had already lost enough.

What if you died? Or, what if he died? Then your heart would be broken. You’d grieve the loss of your son.

In his eyes, love meant loss. Especially with a family of sorcerers.

So, now, he had a goal: to always protect his family, and try not to die doing it.

—

An hour had passed.

Yuji had returned with crepes for you and Satoru, which you decided to save for dessert, despite your sugar-loving husband’s complaints.

The restaurant was an unfamiliar setting, quite different from the typical cheap cafes Yuji and Megumi were used to going to by themselves.

Even so, it was undoubtedly a family restaurant despite the high-end nature of it.

The family of five took their seats around the table and opened their menus — most of them, at least, as Maya opened her coloring book instead.

When Megumi’s eyes scanned the high-priced items listed on the beige, foldable, laminated menu with a black leather binding, he immediately started to search for the cheapest item he could find.

“What are you gonna get, muffin?” Satoru gently pinched his daughter’s cheek, making the adorable girl giggle.

“Everything!” She kicked her feet in excitement.

“Really?” With a grin, Yuji said to his younger sister from across the table, “You think you can eat everything off of the menu?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Alright, alright,” you sighed happily. “We can worry about eating everything off of the menu later. What does everyone want to order?”

“Uh,” Yuji looked at the menu once again. He loved to eat everything. “I need another minute here.”

“Okay,” you darted your eyes over to Megumi. “What about you, Megumi?”

“I’ll get a plain bowl of ramen. I’ll just drink water too.”

“Plain?” A worried frown appeared across your face. “Are you sure? You don’t want any toppings? And the water is complimentary, so you can get something else to drink.”

“Are you sick?” Yuji questioned, tilting his head a bit, as he noticed that the other boy seemed more quiet than usual today.

“No, I’m fine,” Megumi responded plainly.

Suddenly, Maya started to push her coloring book and crayons toward Megumi, whom she insisted on sitting next to. He was the coolest person ever at the moment. Cooler than Barbie.

“It’s okay, I don’t need to color,” Megumi said to the young girl. “I’m feeling okay, I promise.”

Satoru tapped your thigh. When you looked over at him, he leaned in, whispering, “We need to talk.”

You nodded. Together, you both left the table and stepped outside after telling your children that you would both be right back.

“You know what he’s doing, right?” Satoru asked, putting his hands in his pocket.

“Yeah. He’s ordering the cheapest item so we don’t spend that much money on him,” you looked up at Satoru with a frown. “What should we do? Should we just order for him? If we tell him he can get whatever he wants, he’ll just lie and insist that he actually wants a plain bowl of noodles. And I know he’d really like the ginger chicken stir-fry thing. I just wish he knew how much we cared about him.”

“He knows we care, sweetheart. That isn’t the problem. He’s just not used to being spoiled like this, and he doesn’t want us to feel like we have to do things for him. We just need to give him some time, okay? Being adopted is a lot to take in. Come here.” Satoru pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. “We’ll figure it out. He knows we love him, and that’s the most important thing.”

“Okay,” you mumbled with a small pout. “Well, what are you gonna order? A steak? We could both get different things and just take stuff off of each other’s plate.”

“What I want isn’t on the menu,” Satoru smirked humorously, his hands around your waist, threatening to travel lower down your body. He truly didn’t care about being in public.

“You’re acting wild today,” you said in a warning, yet playful tone, wrapping your arms around your husband, despite your words. “What’s gotten into you?”

“The fact that I haven’t gotten into you in a while, that’s what,” Satoru grinned as he whispered his dirty words into your ear. “I was just thinking about how much I dislike odd numbers. I mean, three kids? A family of five?”

“What’s your point?” You said. “And make it quick. I’m starving.”

“Well, aside from the fact that I haven’t had the chance to fuck you in ages,” Satoru pulled away from you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. “I think we should have another baby.”

The look of surprise that appeared across your face was absolutely precious, and when it melted into a heartwarming smile, Satoru’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of it.

God, he just loved you so much.

Suddenly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him.

“Your timing is shitty — I mean, we’re standing outside of a restaurant wondering why our adopted teenage son wants to order a struggle meal, but I agree with you. I wanna have another baby too.”

Satoru kissed you quickly and softly — any longer, and he’d have to take you home immediately and get started on that baby-making process.

You both walked back into the restaurant and found that your daughter had given Megumi and Yuji a page of her coloring book and a few crayons, making her older brothers color with her. They couldn’t say no, of course. The little girl had them wrapped around her finger.

“Can someone pass me a red?” Yuji scratched his head as he looked at his plain, uncolored princess. “I can’t make her wear an orange dress.”

“I’ll switch with you,” Megumi offered, staring at his half-colored tiger. “Red for an orange?”

“Yeah.”

The two teenagers swapped crayons as you and Satoru returned to your seats.

“Everything alright?” Yuji blinked up at you.

“Yeah, we were just discussing something, don’t worry,” you smiled softly. “Did you figure out what you want?”

“Yeah! Wait, no. Come back to me.”

“Alright,” with a soft laugh, you glanced at Megumi and said, “And for you, Megumi, I was actually thinking that you might enjoy the ginger chicken stir-fry. I think a plain bowl of noodles wouldn’t be a good option.”

As you spoke, Satoru reached across Maya and discreetly grabbed the menu lying next to Megumi, preventing the boy from grabbing it and checking the price. To avoid drawing any suspicion, he grabbed everyone else’s menus as well — aside from Yuji’s, who still couldn’t decide what he wanted. Everything sounded so delicious.

“That’s fine with me,” Megumi agreed.

Your plan had worked.

Making it seem like it was entirely your idea, rather than something Megumi would have wanted, had paid off.

Later on, as the waiter sat a steaming plate of sauteed chicken, a variety of vegetables, and a side of rice down in front of him, he had to fight off the urge to smile.

And while he wouldn’t admit it, he was beyond happy.

—

Once Saturday night rolled around, the dark sky glistening with visible stars to compliment the perfect weather — not too hot, not too cold — Megumi and Yuji decided to hang out with their friends from school, while Maya spent the night at her aunt’s house, undoubtedly playing with her cousins.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you and Satoru were home alone.

Snuggled up together on the couch in your living room, Titanic was displayed on your T.V., and you and Satoru were underneath a big blanket.

His arm was resting around your shoulders, and a big bowl of untouched popcorn was leaning against his leg — dangerously close to falling over — as you and Satoru were too busy eating the crepes that Yuji had bought you both earlier during the day.

Or, at least, Satoru was too busy eating the crepes.

You were too busy staring at your phone.

With a sigh, Satoru grabbed the remote, pausing the depressing movie.

“We should watch Titanic,” Satoru said in a teasing, mocking tone as he imitated you, repeating your words from the conversation you both had earlier. “We haven’t seen it, and all of our friends have seen it.”

“I’m sorry,” You smiled sadly, “I’m about to put my phone down. Yuji just texted and said they were all going to the movies and then have a sleepover on campus, so I just . . .”

“They’re fine,” Satoru gently grabbed your phone, pressed the power button, and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. “They fight curses, you know. They can take care of themselves. Trust me.”

“Yeah, but this is also only Maya’s second time spending the night away from us, so I need to keep my phone with me.”

“You need to relax, baby. You’re so stressed out,” Satoru moved the popcorn bucket and put it on the floor, and he pulled you in closer. “You shouldn’t worry about things unless you have a reason to worry. Your phone’s still on, okay? So if it goes off, you can answer it, but until then, try to relax.”

“You’re right,” you said. “Alright, I’m ready. You can press play.”

“No, I don’t want to,” Satoru looked down at you with a playful frown. “This movie’s depressing and we already know what happens. The ship sinks.”

“You’re such an idiot,” changing your position just a bit, you rested your head in his lap and turned over onto your back to look up at his handsome face. “What do you wanna watch, then? There’s that new superhero movie, or we can watch one of the shows we’ve been meaning to catch up on.”

“We can watch something later,” Satoru sighed. “Right now, I just wanna fuck my wife.”

Suddenly, your husband scooped his hand underneath your head, and he lifted your head. Then, leaning over a bit, he connected his lips with yours.

It wasn’t a soft or gentle public-friendly kiss, either.

It was slow, deep, and passionate — his tongue instantly swirled around yours in a way that made you both moan into each other’s mouths.

When Satoru pulled away, a string of spit falling from his lips, he leaned in once again. He couldn’t help it — he missed being absolutely filthy with his wife.

Satoru alternated between kissing you as deeply as he could and sucking on your little tongue. As he did so, that large hand of his started to mess with the button of your pants.

Without interrupting the kiss — at this point, he would rather die than pull away — Satoru unbuttoned your pants, and placed his hand over your clothed cunt. Slowly, he rubbed your clit through the fabric of your panties, falling in love with your little moans.

Much to his dismay, and yours, Satoru ended the kiss. While he could have tasted your mouth and tongue forever and never get sick of it, not once needing to take a second to breathe, he was desperate to finally have you underneath him and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“I let you spend a ton of money because seeing you buy whatever you want makes my day. You know that, right?”

You nodded happily, thinking about the new and expensive outfits, shoes, and accessories that you purchased earlier.

“Well, I think it’s only fair that, in exchange, you let me fuck you all night long.” As Satoru spoke, he could feel your panties dampen a bit against his fingers, and he grinned. “Seems like you like the sound of that too, huh?”

“Let’s go to our room,” you said breathlessly, as his circulating fingers were driving you crazy, even through the cloth of your underwear.

But your wish was Gojo’s command.

Soon enough, Satoru was tossing you on the enormous bed, and taking off your clothes as quickly as his hands would allow him to.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Satoru said, his body hovering over yours.

Your faces were only inches away from each other, his gorgeous pale skin and blue eyes illuminated by the moonlight peeking in through the curtains of your big bedroom window.

He kissed your cheek.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered against your skin, warm breath patting against your face.

“What do you mean?” Looking up at him, you frowned a bit. “We’re always together aside from your work trips.”

“I mean that I miss being alone with you like this,” Satoru kissed your lips softly. “Making love with your husband hasn’t been on your to-do list in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re busy keeping this family happy and healthy, and I love you for that, but I’ve missed having you under me like this. I’ve missed your body . . . you’re so goddamn beautiful, did you know that?”

“Yeah, you tell me every day.” you gave him a soft smile, one that held a hint of playfulness behind it, but admiration as well. “Are we going to keep wasting time talking or are you going to fuck me?”

You raised your knee in between Satoru’s legs, pressing it against the hard, clothed bulge belonging to the gorgeous man above you, and he groaned.

“Careful, Mrs. Gojo.”

With a smile of his own, Satoru leaned in and kissed your cheek. Then, he kissed your jaw and started making a trail of soft kisses across your beautiful skin. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your chest. Your stomach.

Nearly every part of your being was touched by his lips as he treasured the feeling of you — his perfect wife, a little detail he couldn’t seem to get over even years later; you were actually his wife — and he didn’t pause his kisses until his head was in between your soft thighs.

And only after he left kisses on them as well, of course.

Satoru pressed his buttery lips against your wet folds, kissing your pussy lips and treating himself to the scent of you before the taste.

But, your sweet smell nearly drove him crazy, and he couldn’t wait any longer. His tongue touched your clit. A pretty moan fell from between your lips, whereas a muffled one came from him, as he enjoyed licking your clit just as much as you cherished the feeling of his tongue against your button.

While he wanted to tease you, he couldn’t.

That tongue of his ran circles around your clit before darting down to your aching hole and pushing in a bit, and his moans only intensified the delicious warmth you felt swirling around in the pit of your stomach.

He wrapped his arm around your thigh, both to stop your squirming and use his fingers to hold your pussy lips open and give him better access to your clit.

“I want you to cum in my mouth, do you hear me?” His breath patted against your cunt as he spoke.

And when you nodded — speaking was just as difficult as staying still — Satoru reconnected his mouth to your clit.

As he stared at you, he rapidly licked at your button with his tongue, and — god, the way you moaned, squirmed, and gripped the thick sheets was a beautiful, unholy sight.

“Satoru,” you called out like a prayer.

“Cum in my mouth,” he ordered once again. “Be a good wife and cum in my mouth right now.”

With the hand that wasn’t holding your pussy lips open, Satoru palmed at his clothed cock. The bulge was becoming impossibly hard with every pretty moan that fell from your lips, and while he was certain he’d cum in his pants if you came in his mouth, he would have to stay strong.

He wanted to pour every bit of cum his body could produce inside of your body, not smear it on the inside of his underwear.

Finally, your sweet juices started to flood his mouth once he attached his lips to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. That was what made the pleasure slowly brewing inside of you overwhelm your senses, so much so that you couldn’t even properly warn your beloved that you were close to cumming all over his lips and tongue.

But he was ready.

He wouldn’t dare miss a single drop. He licked up every bit of it like a starving man and savored the taste of you — a flavor he so desperately missed. Jerking his cock in the shower while daydreaming about eating your cunt just wasn’t enough.

“Tastes so good,” he moaned breathlessly, pulling away from your pussy, although it pained him to do so. He could spend his entire life in between your legs and never complain.

Satoru sat up on the edge of the bed. First, he removed his shirt, exposing his perfect physique. Then, he slowly took off his belt, the click-clanks of the belt’s leather and buckle made you start squirming yet again.

“Hurry up,” you frowned.

“You’re so impatient,” Satoru pulled off his pants and underwear. “I’ve had to wait weeks for this, but you wanna rush me now?”

Satoru leaned over, kissing your pouty lips.

“I wanna be a little rougher with you tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yes, just hurry. Stop teasing me.”

A cocky smile appeared upon Satoru’s face, which hovered above yours.

“Just make sure you’re nice and loud for me, or I won’t let you cum. I wanna get sick of hearing my own name, do you understand me?”

Before an obedient response was given, Satoru started to slowly thrust into you.

Very few pleasurable experiences in life could compare to that of being inside of your warm pussy.

Your walls clenched around his cock, pulling him in as he sunk his big cock in deeper and deeper until he was fully inside of you.

He could barely stand it — the feeling you gave him. He leaned down further, his lips against your ear, and slowly, he started to move.

He fucked you calmly at first, treating you like a fragile piece of glass as he thrusted in and out of your hole.

But that didn’t last very long. He couldn’t help it.

Tucking his arm underneath your knee, Satoru raised your leg to fuck you as deeply as he could, and he picked up his pace, finding a nice rhythm that forced moans to fall out of his throat and pour into your ear.

“Fuck, baby, I could cum right now,” he moaned yet again. “You feel so good, I don’t think I can hold it for long.”

“Satoru,” you called out. Your nails started to dig into his back. Any red scratches that would appear across his skin in the morning would be his fault, as he was the one who started to fuck you faster and faster, drilling you into the mattress until you had no choice but to hold on to something — anything.

“Fuck, Satoru, oh my god-”

He bucked his hips wildly as you shouted his name. Filthy words were whispered into your ear, all of which were cut off by uncontrollable moans erupting from him. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum right inside of you, baby. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to fill you up, right?”

“Y-Yes, please,” a pathetic moan followed your words.

“Then take it for me. Take my cock,” he ran his tongue across your ear.

Once your second orgasm started to approach, you were in too much of a daze to warn him properly.

After all, that big dick of his slammed in and out of you, fucking away every thought that wasn’t about him fucking you, driving away every emotion that wasn’t pure and utter pleasure, and taking away the ability to say anything other than shouts of his name.

Luckily, Satoru’s wealth had purchased a home where neighbors weren’t too close by. If they were, then they would surely complain about the noise.

The feeling of your cum gushing over Satoru’s cock is what pushed him over the edge. He moved away from your ear, taking in the pretty sight of your face as you came yet again.

“Satoru-” your moans were interrupted by him pressing his lips against yours, kissing you as deeply as he could. The pleasure of your pussy milking his cock and covering him in your juices started to overwhelm him as well.

Beads of sweat appeared across his forehead.

His rhythm grew sloppy, his quick pace making the mattress squeak.

Then, there it was. That sweet feeling.

As warm pleasure started to swirl around in his gut, he swirled his tongue around yours.

Satoru pulled away from the kiss, and warned, “I’m cumming. I’m cumming, baby, take it. Take all of it, baby — shit, I’m-”

He moaned loudly as he shut his eyes in pure bliss. And when he came, he continued to thrust, wanting to fuck every last drop of his semen inside of you, and keep it there.

Moving one of his hands in between you, he pressed it against your stomach, which only intensified both the feeling of his cock inside of you, and his cum filling up your insides.

“You feel that? Feel me stuffing you?” He questioned as he tried to catch his breath. Then, he pulled out of your messy hole. “Get some rest, because we’re gonna do it again. I gotta make sure you take every last drop of my cum if we’re gonna have another baby.”

“How long of a break?” You started to sit up, but truth be told, you didn’t want to move at all. You just wanted your husband’s cock back inside of you. “Thirty seconds?”

Satoru laughed a bit, and he reached forward, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Then, he ran his thumb over your lips. “You’re still so impatient, hm? I told you that I’m gonna fuck you all night long, and I meant it.”

Satoru kissed you once again.

Soon after, he switched positions with you, laying his back against the bed as you straddled him, his hands on your hips as he guided you toward his awaiting cock.

That very next day, a beautiful Sunday which typically served as a chore day for the entire family, your children couldn’t help but notice that you and Satoru were incredibly tired and rather insistent upon washing your bedroom sheets yourselves.

♡ — thanks for reading!

♡ — Next Part.

[monstersholygrail]

I am here to ask for more monster fucker scientist nerd, BUT

With a moth hybrid reader (like they lowkey are just mothman but a Luna moth) who can’t talk but is very smart and squeaks likes moths do sometimes

I’m sorry I just rarely see the ‘reader is monster’ kind of thing and I really like weird nerd for some reason

You write so good I love ittt

Ayyye, very cool idea!! And don’t apologize, you’re all good, babe. I like reader!monster and nerds too (and thank you oh my goodness!!)

The Scientist throws the newspaper onto the counter with a scowl on his face. ‘Government Scientist Breaks Out of Facility with Hybrid: Insider Conspiracy?’

The nerve of that guy. Letting his passion and lust warp his brain like that. To ruin an entire government study and all for what? Love. To have a mate. He would never make a mistake like that if he got the chance. Just once chance and they’d all see how brilliant he was!

Bugs were his field of study. Close to Hybrids. If only they had picked him instead he could’ve shown them the benefits and uses to what a bug can produce. His entire home lab is lit up with the evidence of it. Countless vials fill the rows of shelves along his walls. Each and every one of them glowing a lovely neon color.

Suddenly a banging at the glass door that leads to his patio shakes the scientist out of his dark thoughts. Turning around he watches as you, a Moth Hybrid, walks right into the door. Over and over again, your eyes glazed over as you look into the light.

Despite knowing what brought you here, the scientist remains just as curious about you. He gently guides you inside and helps you to focus on him instead of the vials. Next he tries to get you to speak, to explain yourself. He can’t figure out how annoyed to be at your interruption until you do. But when you open your mouth all you do is let out the tiniest little squeaks that grate against his eardrums.

He guesses you said something though as a second later you’re popping out of your seat and scurrying about. Your wings nearly knocking into everything around you in a way that has his heart jumping up into his throat. He watches you with rapt attention as you walk around his lab, mixing things together. He wants to stop you, to tell you you’re messing everything up, but he’s mesmerized by you. The way your green wings shine against the light of the vials.

Eventually you walk over and hand him something. It takes him far longer than he’s willing to admit to realize you had made a breakthrough in his recent hypothesis. He looks between you and the vial in awe, wondering exactly how long you had been watching him.

After such a discovery the scientist felt he couldn’t truly kick you out. You were now a team. And as the months passed in which you two worked together. It became more. He kisses you first thing when he walks into the lab, he asks you your thoughts even though all you can do is squeak in return, and he lets you take lead when you’re onto something he shockingly didn’t notice.

It’s as close to marital bliss as the scientist could ever imagine himself being. And it seems you feel that way too as one day, the both of you working furiously in the lab together, you bring him a vial dull and black. He doesn’t understand but he’s getting quite used to the feeling. You motion between the vial and your belly before touching his. Restoring the motion until it dawns on him.

You want to have babies with him. Correction— you want him to have babies with you. He’d be carrying them. He looks down at the vial, his expression full of contemplation. He would have to take it easy on his work, leaving most of it to you. He’d be growing multiple lives inside his body. He’d be giving up his chance to make a difference in order to do this with you.

He quickly takes the vial and downs it in a single gulp, exhaling shakily. He knows he made the right choice. Because he may be giving up the chance to make a difference but he’d be making a difference in his own life. In yours. And with your arrival he’s learned over time that that’s enough.

A heat slowly overcomes his body and he can feel something inside of him expanding. Making room for the eggs you’ll deposit inside him. The urge to slam you down on the lab counter and fuck you till you breed him seizes control of his actions till he does exactly as the urge demands.

You look so beautiful, glittering amongst the shining lights. Yet you’re the brightest thing he’s ever seen and he’s drawn to you. Always has.

[azrielsrealmate]

never just a best friend

azriel x reader

summary: your best friends offers a massage after a stressing day, only that his hands end up slipping to dangerous places.

warnings: smut

word count: 2k

Your feet ached, your head throbbed, and your skin itched in places you couldn’t reach to scratch. And your back—God, your back hurt.

You just needed a break. A break longer than the eight hours of sleep you rarely had time to get.

Azriel’s gaze from where he sat at the edge of your bed made the back of your neck burn. So you hurried to pull your shirt over your head, and the feeling disappeared, knowing he’d look anywhere but at you while you changed. You almost sighed in relief, almost rubbed the space between your brows. But instead, you unclasped your bra and slipped into a shirt several sizes larger than what you usually wore.

You hadn’t deliberately chosen Azriel’s shirt to breathe in the comforting scent of cedar and mist instead of the tobacco and beer your idiot ex had left lingering everywhere. You really hadn’t. But it was a relief you hadn’t known you needed.

“What happened?”

A simple question, but spoken in that voice, deep yet so soft, like silk brushing against clean skin, it almost made you sob.

What happened wasn’t the question; the question was why you felt so easily overwhelmed. You turned to look at him, and the caramel color of his eyes softened as he read how overstimulated you felt. He stood up, and even from the distance between you, you could clearly see how tall he was.

He crossed the space in mere seconds, and his scarred palm found your cheek, cradling it tenderly. Your eyes closed involuntarily. The warmth of his hand melted your mind, sending the hot liquid of it out of your body in the form of a sigh.

“What happened?” he repeated again.

You sighed.

“Adrik.” You said the name of your ex, not needing to open your eyes to know that Azriel’s features had hardened.

You spent so much time watching him that you’d almost memorized his micro-expressions.

“I ran into him at the café next door, and…” your best friend’s thumb stroked your cheek, encouraging you to continue. “Well, obviously, it didn’t end well.”

“What did he do?” Azriel asked, his voice rough. So different from how he’d asked what happened earlier. You could hear the sharp undertone clearly.

You’d been through this before.

You shook your head and moved his hand away from your cheek, your thumb tracing a small caress on his skin before letting go. You took off your pants, because you slept with little clothes, and you sighed heavily, walking toward your side of the bed.

“He just stuck to me like the worm he is.” You didn’t even want to imagine what would happen to the poor drunk Adrik if you let go of the weakening reins on Azriel. The muscles under your skin tingled pleasantly just thinking about it. Adrik had treated you so poorly, and it would be so easy to let Azriel handle him…

But, no. No. You weren’t doing this.

You sat on the bed, feeling your body tense slightly under his gaze. He studied you as if he wanted to squeeze out that feeling he knew existed in you, the one you worked so hard to push down, to extract and stretch it so he could examine it.

“What do you mean by…” his brows furrowed, finally processing your words.

You didn’t let him finish.

“Damn it, Azriel, he left after two minutes. Please, just lie down, I’ve had the worst day ever,” you pleaded, feeling a cramp run down your back. “And to top it all off, my back hurts,” you complained.

You heard Azriel exhale. It took him a fraction of a second to speak.

“I can see the tension in your muscles from here,” he said.

You rolled your shoulders, as if that would bring relief.

“It’s not that bad.”

He didn’t pay you the slightest attention.

“Where did you leave the oil from last time?” The last time he’d worked a wonderful massage on your back, you could swear it could have made you finish faster than Adrik ever had.

The silence in the room grew thicker as Azriel waited for your response. You knew he wouldn’t move until you told him. Not because he was pressuring you, but because he wanted to take care of you. As he always did.

“It’s in the nightstand, top drawer,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even though you knew exactly what it meant once he put his hands on you.

Azriel walked over to the nightstand, pulled out the small bottle of oil, and held it in his hand for a moment, assessing your state. His eyes met yours, and something in his gaze made your breath quicken slightly. It wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a massage, but this time, there was a tension between you that you couldn’t ignore, not when it made anticipation itch in your skin.

“Take off your shirt,” he instructed, his voice soft but firm. Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated for a moment, but seeing the calm in his eyes, you made up your mind. Slowly, you removed your shirt, revealing your body covered only by a tiny black thong.

Azriel swallowed, his eyes darkening slightly as they roamed over your figure. You felt a warmth spread across your skin under his intense gaze, but you remained still, waiting for his next move.

He approached, leaned in, and his large, warm hands grabbed your hips, quickly dragging you until you were sitting where he could rest his hands on your shoulders first, beginning with a light pressure. His touch was firm but gentle, and he began working on your tense muscles, gliding down your back with expertise. The oil, warm against your skin, made it easier for his hands to move as he focused on relaxing you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you felt a knot dissolve under his fingers. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear.

“Let go of all that tension,” he murmured, his voice rough with concentration as his hands traveled down your back to the curve of your waist, his thumbs pressing gently at the base of your spine.

A low moan escaped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the pleasure of the massage to envelop you completely. Azriel continued, his hands moving confidently, exploring every inch of your lower back, dangerously close to the edge of your thong. His touch was addictive, and though you tried to stay calm, you felt your body reacting to every caress, every calculated pressure.

“You have no idea how beautiful you look,” Azriel whispered, his voice vibrating against your skin as his hands paused for a moment, just above the line of your thong. The heat in his voice made you shiver.

Opening your eyes, you turned your head slightly to look at him, finding his face close to yours, his eyes locked on yours. The tension in the room became almost palpable, and in that instant, you knew you had crossed a line.

Azriel lowered his hands, sliding them down your hips to the edge of your thong, slowly—too slowly.

He stopped in the curve of your hips, squeezed the flesh, in his hands, feeling and appreciating them. And slowly, he guided one hand toward your abdomen, the other toward your ribs.

You whimpered slightly, needily, your breath heavy.

“Be patient,” he murmured against your ear, your eyes fluttering closed. You felt the warmth of his hand move up to cup one of your breasts, relishing its size. Your brows arched. “Az…” you sighed.

His other hand slid down to slip under the fabric of your black thong, finding there a wetness that made him hum in satisfaction.

“So wet, all this for me?” You moaned again, struggling to keep your eyes open.

His scarred fingers explored your wetness, tracing a line from your entrance to your clitoris, spreading all your arousal. He drew a circle on your clit, torturously slow, tentative, you might have said if your brain weren’t mush.

Your back arched again. “Azriel,” you moaned his name, and he, in turn, growled in your ear.

“Do you like that?” he asked, and you realized he wanted an answer when he stopped his fingers.

“Yes, yes!” you pleaded, almost desperately.

Azriel let out a low sound, almost a growl, upon hearing your response, satisfied with the power he had over you in that moment. His hand remained still, his fingers barely brushing your clit, enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the relief you so desperately craved. The tension in the room was palpable, each passing second seemed to stretch time, amplifying the desire that wrapped around you.

“If you enjoy it so much,” he murmured against your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine, “then you’re going to wait a little longer.”

The sweet agony of anticipation spread through your body as Azriel maintained that light, frustrating touch that made every fiber of your being burn with desire. You tried to move, seeking more of him, more of that contact that promised so much, but his hands became firm, holding you in place.

“Don’t move,” he ordered gently, and there was an authority in his voice that made you obey without hesitation. There was something about the way Azriel controlled you, how he handled your body with such precision, that made you feel vulnerable and at the same time completely safe. You felt the heat of his body against your back, his hardness pressed against you as his scarred fingers moved again, this time applying more pressure on your clit. The pleasure that blossomed from that simple touch was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan, arching your back to get closer to him.

"Good girl," Azriel whispered, his tone laden with satisfaction as he increased the rhythm of his caresses. You felt his other hand slide up your abdomen, moving up to caress your breasts, squeezing them with a possessiveness that made your breath catch in your throat. His lips pressed against your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his fingers continued to play with your wetness.

“I want you to come for me,” he growled against your ear, his voice a comman. And with that, his movements became more intense, more urgent. The sweet torture he’d imposed on you faded into a wave of pleasure so overwhelming that it left you trembling, your moans turning into cries of pleasure as you approached the edge. His fingertips skilfully working on your clit.

Azriel’s fingers worked with expert precision, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice of an orgasm, until you finally exploded in a wave of pure pleasure, your body trembling as you were suddenly blind and deaf from pleasure. You let out a long, satisfied moan as Azriel’s name escaped your lips in a sigh, your whole being consumed by the heat of that moment.

And even as the pleasure began to fade, Azriel didn’t stop. His hands continued to explore your body, his lips still pressed against your neck, leaving wet kisses that sent delicious shivers through your spine. The sensation of his touch, so skilled and confident, combined with the residual pleasure of your orgasm, left you breathless, utterly spent in his arms.

When you finally came down from that blissful high, you turned to look at him, finding a possessive gleam in his eyes, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

Well, you had never considered him just your best friend.

"I hope your back doesn’t hurt anymore.”

[phantomamour]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

coriolanus snow x district/rebel girl!reader - written in third person

in the wicked!au universe (but can be read as a standalone)

cw// allusions to smut, angst

“What would you name our daughter if we had one?” Coriolanus whispered, his love tucked into his side, still bare with a sheen of sweat on her skin matching his. He loved the smell of them like this. Sex with his wife was clinical. It was clean sheets and not looking at one another. But on the rare times that he managed a safe enough sanctuary to make love to his girl, there was nothing clinical about it. He kissed every inch of her body, knowing they had vowed not to kiss each other’s lips again, and he had made her feel cherished in ways only he could. His tongue, his fingers, all of him devoted solely to her. He was driven by power, but his vice was always her. 

“You want a girl? What about an heir?” She looked up at him with curiosity in her eyes and a soft smile, while Coriolanus shook his head.

“I want a little miniature version of you running around.” That made her laugh, her smile widening at the thought of Coriolanus having to chase down a little girl who looked like her. 

“She’d drive you crazy.” 

“Just like her mother. But I’d love every second of it.” They both knew they were being dangerous. It was one thing to meet still after so much time. But it was another to allow themselves the luxury of thinking of a future they’d never see.  

However, the rustling of leaves outside the abandoned cabin woke them from their dream-like bliss. She quickly collected her clothes strewn about the wooden floor while Coriolanus sat up, a heavy weight in his chest. As much as he wanted to call her there just for a moment alone, there had been other reasons he had sent her a note—reasons that felt all too heavy after what they had just done. It was while she was halfway through pulling her pants back up that he whispered. 

“Livia’s pregnant.” 

The world stopped. She froze in her spot. Every breath felt too impossible to take. It was reality setting in. Their bubble was popped all over again. They weren’t two kids in love at university anymore. He was the President of Panem, and she was the thing he needed to destroy, though he knew he’d never have the heart. 

“Oh.” That was all she could muster. Her one love was going to be a father, but it wouldn’t be to her child. Every ounce of color drained from her, and she stumbled while finishing up the button on her pants. Coriolanus was up in an instant, a hand on her arm to stabilize her before she shook it off. 

“That’s why you sent me the note… t-to what? To feel better about that?” He could hear the hurt in her voice and see it in the furrow of her brow as she added, “To rub it in my face that we chose differently?” He immediately pleaded with her, grabbing her hands with a desperate tone. 

“Of course not. I’d never… Dove, I wish I had a better way to tell you. I wanted you to hear it from me, though. Not from whatever whispers you overhear.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she took a deeper breath, and after a moment, she stepped back from him. He could feel the shift between them, the pain and betrayal forming a wall he wouldn’t be able to break back down as she stepped closer to the door, smoothing out her shirt. 

“I…” she started, but the wind carried her voice away before she could finish her sentence. Her following words hurt her just as much as they hurt him. “I would name her Ophelia. Our daughter... She would be Ophelia.” With that, she was gone again, called back to a world he couldn’t ever belong to. Coriolanus stood there, processing every syllable before testing it on his tongue with a whispered, “Ophelia.” 

Eight months later, the love of his life would die, along with any desolate hope for their dreamt-up future. But a month after that, Ophelia Snow would be born. She would look strikingly like her father, very little of her true mother’s genes having taken root, and Coriolanus would know in his heart who her mother really was. He’d see her in his daughter’s laugh and the light of her eyes. His daughter may never be hers, but it was a part of her he wouldn’t have to reminisce about at her grave again. 

[anakinsdove]

𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader

summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant... only to find out that that perfect pussy he's fucking belongs to his padawan.

c/w: gloryhole mentions, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance, blowjobs, good pounding (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰: 3,231

1 week ago

He does look lovely standing there, he’s talking to master mundi and master kenobi, broad shoulders and a serious expression on his face, but you know it’s all a facade, the minute you two are alone again he’ll go for a round of twister and maybe if you’re lucky pizza and movie night… he’s like no other Jedi, and you wouldn’t want it any other way, he’s unorthodox, impulsive and he can get under people’s skin easily.

He has a charm you haven’t seen anywhere else in the galaxy in your entire life, but you don’t know many things, he added a little bit of color in your life, he has thaught you things and to see life in a different way, he’s naturally good at everything he does… it’s insane.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t see him move next to you

“You” you say simply and he chuckles

“You’re still impressed by that move? I told you Y/N it all about the wrist” your eyes sparkle at the memory of him tearing droids apart in your previous mission, only a few hours ago

“No, not that-” “Be right back, I have to give the council a report of our mission” he ruffles your hair and leaves

Your eyes follow him until he dissapears in a crowd and you sigh, attachment is forbidden, but how can you not get attached to Anakin Skywalker? there are many rules you’d break for him, he’s your master and it’s wrong, but still… you can’t help but think of him late at night when you touch yourself, your fingers rub tight little circles on your clit as you try not to give in sleep and you can’t help but mutter “Anakin…”

You’d ruin everything for him, You’d give him everything you are, everything you have… and it kills yourself to think he might not want it.

But you’re wrong

Because Anakin Skywalker is utterly and obsessed with you, he wants nothing more than to bend you over and stuff you so good with his cock, that’s his ultimate fantasy, but he must not give into his instincts, Until…

Present day

His arms wrap around your waist in the darkness… you shouldn’t have done that, does he hate you now? Is he disappointed? Does he not love you anymore? That thought is unbearable.

“Calm down, I can feel the anxiety dripping from you” “I’m sorry….” “No, You’re not” And he’s right, why should you be sorry for? For him filling you up tonight? For giving him the best orgasm of his life… you, his padawan.

“I don’t want you to be sorry Y/n” you turn around and your pretty eyes look up at his silhouette, even his shadow is beautiful “Why not?”

His fingers squeeze your waist experimentally and you can’t help but sigh, his touch relives a deep ache in your heart and possibly between your legs.

“Was I the first man to fuck you tonight?” His voice is low and dangerous and you nod stupid “Because I saw you with your legs spread and in display for everyone, If I arrived 2 minutes later someone else would’ve ended up fucking you, didn’t you think of that when you chose to fuck up with my mind?”

You feel like crying and he sees your eyes water, you’ve humiliated yourself and he doesn’t want you, you have betrayed his trust…. “No master… p-please I’m sorry…” he wipes your tears away with his thumbs “I said I don’t want you to be sorry… I want to fuck you again and this time I want you to watch” your breathe heaves and he kisses your forehead reassuringly “I’m just surprised that’s all… I didn’t know you had it in you…” his fingers unbuttoned your shirt swiftly and he removes it, the sight of your cleave is doing more for him than it should “Can I fuck you? Can I do it again this time because I want to?” You nod desperately and he turns you around pushing you against your clothing drawer… he turns on your pretty table lamp and your eyes fixate on the picture over the drawer, it’s a picture from last summer, anakin and you smiling as he carries you… an innocent moment so far of what you’re doing right now.

He spreads your legs and pushes into your lower back signaling to arch your back deeper, you hear fabric breaking and you know your panties are gone forever “Holy shit…” you look over your shoulder to see his expression lust and hungriness written all over his face “My cum is still dripping out of you… it’s dripping down your thighs” you look down and confirm what he says, his cum has been dripping down your thighs since the walk back to the temple… he spits over his fingers and you scrunched your eyes shut when he wraps his arm over your front and rubs your clit deliciously “And so fucking wet” “Master!” You cry out louder than intended and you hear him smirk, his hips move with abandon against your ass, he grinds his painfully hard cock over you bare skin, you don’t understand why his pants are still on…

“All you needed to do was ask… I would’ve fucked you so long ago if I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you” his fingers move faster and your brain turns off “What-“ “Fucking brat- you dont even want to know how many times I had to stroke my cock to the most unsatisfactory orgasm, when all I had to do was going to your quarters late at night and take you, don’t you want your master to feel good?” He moans against your ear, his confession fueling your desire as it drags you closer to the edge, you move your hips back against him and he growls, he wants to be the one in control.

“Fuck me please- fuck me I can’t take it anymore” you practically mewl when his fingers dip inside your creamy cunt, come hitter motion hitting your spongy spot deliciously, this is worth every consequence this could have in the future. “You’re going to take what I fucking give you, nothing less and nothing more my padawan, understand?” He says with a condescending tone and gives a kiss to your ear

Anakin underestimated his own arousal because he feels like cumming in his pants right now, his breathing is heavy and his eyes close… then he removes his fingers from your cunt leaving you empty.

“No!” You cry out and he has to shut you up, he dips his fingers inside your mouth making you taste yourself “I know it tastes heavenly love, I fucking know it” your eyes roll back into your head at his dirty words, you’re soaked by now.

He pulls away and sits on the edge of your bed pulling you into his lap, his fingers squeezing your breasts over your bra when he says “What do you know about sucking cock sweetheart?” Is he serious right now? He took your virginity only a couple hours ago! it also makes you giggle because of his vulgar words.

“Nothing” you say honestly and he nods “Good” already pushing you to the ground and on your knees, his fingers unzip his pants desperately tugging them down with his boxers too, his cock slapped against his lower stomach… it looks painfully hard and begging for your touch.. you practically zone out looking at it and you can’t help but be amazed that it even fitted inside you, this is your first time seeing it, ironically.

“I’ve dreamt about fucking this little mouth” he says breathlessly and his thumb traces your lower lip as you look at him with a pouty look… “I’ll guide you through it okay?” “Please…” he smirks at this, he knows how whiny you can be, so having you under control brings him satisfaction as your master.

“Spit on it- good good… now w-wrap your hand around my- Fuck!” He hissed as you stroke him inexpertly but still feels so good, it’s probably because it’s you, everything feels good with you, it makes him curl his toes “I thought you didn’t know anything about this.. Ah fuck…” he closes his eyes as he gives into the pleasure for a brief moment and opening them again when you mutter an unexpected confession “I gave a handjob once…” “To whom?!” He says offended but has to close his eyes again as you milk him his own precum and your spit making the nicest lube, you look at his cock with some sorry of fascination at the slimy sounds its making “L-“ “Don’t fucking tell me” he hisses and pushes your head down “Now suck on it sweetheart nice and slow…” you give the head a little kiss and kitten lick the shaft slowly… nice and slow and you can clearly see his abs constricting due the pleasure “It’s only right im the one who teaches you this” his voice is husky and it holds so much lust and you roll your eyes at his cockiness “Your master had to be the one to teach you how to blow someone Y/n… but most important I’m teaching you how to please me” his words are doing something to you and you can’t help yourself but to grind against his boot that he previously angled for you to rub yourself against it… you moan around him and he needs more.

“Just a little bit more sweetness, you kitten licking my tip feels amazing but your master needs you to take a little bit more okay?” You nod clumsily and his fingers tangle in your locks pushing you a little lower so you can take him deeper, your inexperience shows when you choke around his cock… if you only knew how good that felt, his breath heaved as he mutters a strangled “Good girl- good girl, you’re making your master feel so good” his praise sends shivers down your spine and he carefully thrusts up, hips moving up slowly as you furrow your eyebrows in concentration but you choke again “Ah.. fuck, nice and slow love… nice and slow take your time, I’m don’t going to hurt you”

He moans and groans as your lips wrap around him nice and tight, you’re mouth is warm and it feels perfect, just like everything about you, his thrusts speed only a little bit “Do- do you remember that time where I let you skip training because you wanted to go out to the mall?” You nod… that’s the only thing you can do when you’re this cock drunk… your eyes close and you let him move your head up and down as he pleases “I was a good master, I did a favor for you yeah?” Your eyes water as his cock hits the back of your throat “Now I need you to be a good padawan and let me fuck your mouth, okay?” You whimper around him and he groans… nodding desperately he smirks “tap my leg if it gets too much and breathe through your nose” he holds your hair in a ponytail and starts thrusting nice and hard up your mouth, his tip bruising the back of your throat, your whimpers and moans are muffled by his cock as it makes you choke, you look up at him and his eyes are closed mouth agape as he moans… your own desires can’t be ignored as you keep grinding against his boot… the best way to describe this feeling is euphoria, you can’t even hear your own thoughts because they’re overpowered by the pleasure sounds your master is making and the disgusting sounds your mouth is making… your bringing him close to ecstasy.

“Shit!” He cries out and you realize breathing is no longer important in this situation, you want to please him and that the only thing that matters, he holds your head down as your nose rubs against his pubes, your own eyes rolling back “Yes yes yes yes yes” anakin is too far gone in the pleasure, his eyes roll back as a bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he growls and pushes his boot harder onto you clit “I’m gonna- Fuck im sorry I can’t help it!” You want to protest but it’s too late, his hot cum is already filling your throat. “That’s a g-good g-good… f-fucking girl- ah! My padawan” he spasms and finally lets go of your head… his cock pulsates inside your mouth and your release him and you see him shake… his breathing is heavy and he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks… he smiles, like a genuine smile that shows love and appreciation

“Thank you Y/n… oh shit that was amazing” you beam at his praise as usual, he really knows how to push your buttons.

“Master I want to cum” you pout at him, he has been teasing you but not actually giving you what you need and crave “What have I taught you about patience?” “That is overrated” he curses himself and takes you into his arms laying you down on the bed. “Fine… I’m going to fuck you” he rolls his eyes as if it was annoyed to do such task and you tickle his ribs at his teasing… he laughs and loses strength as he falls on top of you… you look up at him, you’ve never been this close before, his eyes are piercing into your soul… Anakin closes the gap and for the first time he kisses you… he moans into the kiss, it feels so right and your lips don’t move for half a second… he holds your cheek delicately and you kiss him back with as much love and desire as him.

“I can’t believe it took me so long to do that” he whispers and you give him your brightest smile “alright ass up” you giggle and he bops your nose and slides a pillow under your hips for a better angle “How do you want it love? Nice and slow or… master I can’t walk I might need to skip training today?” He mocks your voice and you give him an unamused look, if he can tease you you can also tease him.

Your legs wrap around his waist and you pull him closer “alright I get it… spread your legs for me” you do as he says and he taps his cock over your clit repeatedly, you can’t help but throw your head back, it’s so sensitive by all his previous teasing it makes you whine “I know you want it sweetheart, its just, you look so good when you’re needy” “if I knew my master was this cruel if would’ve gone to master kenobi instead” his eyes widen and his brows furrows “No” you expected him to laugh but it angers him “You’re mine, no one else’s” he positions your legs over his shoulders and slides in… your soaked cunt is pulling him in and your tightness pushes him out.. he chuckles when you shudder under him “So- fucking big” your eyes furrow prettily and your eyes roll back as he fills you up for the second time tonight “Yeah? You’re so fucking tight” his hips moves against you nice and slow, you feel every bit of him, your gummy walls massage his tip, he moans and hides his face on the crook of your neck…

Your gasps and moans are music to his ears, the prettiest a sound in the galaxy, unfortunately his noises are muffled by your skin but you want to hear him cry out… maybe another time… he groans and nips at your skin sucking and marking you “You feel so good inside me master… you fill me up so good, no one could make me feel like you do” his eyes shut tight as your words struck a nerve, you feel his hips falter as he loses his rhythm… you giggle but soon his thrusts become forceful as he hits your g spot with precision

“Shit!” “language” he teases and chuckles against your skin, you pull his locks painfully tight as he hisses “You like it? You like how deep I’m inside you? This time I’m able to look at your pretty face” he kisses you once again, your legs hold him tightly not giving him much space to move and fuck you harder, it’s your fault he has to be harsher and manhandle you

Your velvety walls constrict around his cock and he pulsates and pulsates, he feels his balls tighten… his cock kisses you cervix again and you cry out as you attempt to push him away “I know it hurts… don’t worry I’m going to take care of you” your arms tangle over his neck as your nails dig into his back and scratch, leaving little moon shaped marks all over his skin, he changes the angle and pounds you deeper, you didn’t know it was possible… this time his pubes rub deliciously over your clit “you’re not fooling anyone love, you like it rough, you like it nasty and even dangerous, showing yourself to everyone in a nasty gloryhole in coruscant, why would you put yourself in that situation baby? Huh? You liked the smell of sex and everyone having sex around you? Is that it? You’re as much of a pervert as I am, because if you’d come to me sooner I would’ve fucked you in your comfy bed like the pillow princess you are”

“Master!” You near your release and he’s been holding his for about 5 minutes now, he trembles over you but he can’t stop, he needs to please you “You’re gonna cum sweetheart? I need you to cum, you been milking your master’s cock the entire night it’s only right I make you cum too”

Your cries fill the room and your eyes roll back, it’s a sight for sore eyes “Thank your master Y/n, thank your master for fucking this creamy pussy”

“Thankyouthankyou-“ you moan incoherently “I’m going to fill you up sweetheart- what a good little p-padawan” your climax hits the both of you like a bus… making you grind against each other tiredly as your moans die down eventually, only heavy breathing is heard…

When you both grow quiet and only the sounds of an average late night at coruscant fill the atmosphere you wrap your arms around him, you’ve never seen anakin this tired before, he always has enough energy for a battle but seems like pussy is his weakness, you clench around him involuntarily and he whimpers

“Thank your Y/n this was… fuck it was”

“Me? Thank you for being a pervert” you beam and kiss his forehead “it was truly amazing… thank you master” he chuckles

“Me? A pervert? You’re a nympho princess, after everything I’ve taught you in all these years the only thing it stuck you was my cock” you roll your eyes at his comment

“Now you know how Master Kenobi feels” but then you think a little bit more about your comparison and you cringe anakin laughs against your skin

“You’re lucky you’re beautiful”

You smile brightly at him “youre pretty”

“Only pretty? C’mon sweetheart I want to be beautiful”

“Fine.. you’re beautiful” he gives your neck a little kiss

“Can you sleep here tonight?” You nod “Great because you leaving means I’d have to pull out”

“Don’t mention it, you’re my best friend!” Anakin gives you an angry look even though he knows he’s joking, he wants to be more than that, and actually he already is… And with a kiss he shuts you up…

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

(Hello! I want to credit @anakinsbbgirl for inspiring this stories, she’s insane and I love her)

[milkingtonthethird]

NSFW - GAMER!BSF!GRAYSON who has a massive crush on you.

WARNINGS: masturbation (grayson), gn!reader but you wearing a skirt is mentioned, filthy evil thoughts (grayson)

MDNI, PLEASE.

- Yeah, he likes the sound of your voice.

- It’s almost annoying how anything you say has his stomach flutter and a stupid smile curl at his lips.

- He will bring up anything he knows will make you rant, good or bad. Please tell him everything, every minuscule detail.

- He feels a little perverted when he isn’t entirely listening. He’d shift in his chair a bit, a hand twitching over his thigh as he thinks about you in an entirely different context. One where you’re there, with him, instead of being a mere connection on Discord.

- Like you, whimpering about how amazing his tongue feels. He’d eat you alive.

- “…Earth to Grayson? Helloooo?” you mutter.

- He wants to be a good friend, and he wants you to keep talking. But…what were you saying five seconds ago? He was too busy fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants to subtly relieve the ache in between his thighs.

- He doesn’t genuinely touch himself while you two play or talk. It feels too dirty. Shameful.

- But, he definitely gets worked up. He imagines things too often. His tone gets lower, deeper; an almost-purr. Maybe you’re oblivious, or maybe he’s good at playing it off.

- He always finds himself taking a ten minute break so he can lay in bed, fisting his leaking cock. He glances at his monitor every so often, just to check if he’s muted.

- His mic is sensitive and he can’t seem to keep quiet when he scrolls through photos of you.

- You turn your camera on sometimes. It’s terrible. Absolutely terrible.

- You like to show him little things you get from a day out. And he can’t help but ask to see if you got new clothes.

- Moments of silence for you to change, out of view. He spreads his legs, hips adjusting. You’re undressing for him. Not in the way he wants, of course, however…

- You’re evil for showing him a skirt. Curse you.

- It’s not absolutely scandalous, albeit it’s still a skirt. He lost his streak—his palm absentmindedly started rubbing himself.

- “I think it’s too short.”

- “It’s cute,” he says, his eyes focused on your legs. He sounds too strained for his liking. Solution? Insult.

- “It’s not your color.”

- It is.

- As much as he loves having you over, it’s hard. Sometimes it escalates into him being hard. It’s why he keeps a blanket and extra pillows on his couch.

- Yes, you two are close, but do you have to drape your legs over his lap when you want to lay down? You’re too focused on the screen to notice him adjusting your ankles more towards his knees so you don’t feel his cock twitch.

- He’s a touchy guy, too. It’s just who he is. So, you don’t think nothing of it when he leans against you, or drapes an arm over your shoulder. He’ll poke your side and give your arm a nip with his teeth just to see you hiss and swear.

- Prayers for you if you’re ticklish. A lot of prayers. He uses it as an advantage; he’s very tactical with it. When you’re getting too mouthy, his fingers are wiggling into you. You’re just so cute as you squeal and giggle, and obviously the only way to avoid getting kicked in the nuts is to pin you.

- You’re too busy attempting to squirm away to notice his hard-on. He’s careful not to press into you. And then, in a desperate, breathy voice, you whine, “Dick, please.”

- His brain pauses. He has to get off, for his sake. Literally.

- Which is why he finds himself in the bathroom, pumping himself ferociously, needily. He can hear you playing—you’re right there, a mere door separating you two. Doesn’t stop him from bucking into his fist like it’s you.

- Acts totally sauve and normal after he’s done, like he didn’t almost moan your name as he came.

- As someone who is competitive and is in love with you, Grayson makes bets that benefit him. And given you want to wipe that cocky smirk off of his face, you accept.

- But he’s ballsy tonight. There’s enough alcohol in his system to say, “If you lose, you gotta give me a kiss.”

- You roll your eyes, as if he isn’t being dead serious.

- He wins. Of course he does. It’s not like he was tryharding, his fingers working overtime and his body tense. Not at all.

- He turns to you, grinning as if he won the lottery. He’s about to make a snarky comment and you’re a sore loser, so you don’t let him.

- You cup his jaw, lips firmly pressing against his. It would just be over just like that if you didn’t force your tongue into his mouth almost bitterly.

- It’s just for a few seconds. He stares at you, cheeks dusted. He takes slow, deep inhales.

- You’re just about to load up a new game when the controller is taken from your hands, haphazardly tossed on the coffee table. Your head is tilted towards him and he does the exact same thing to you.

- Your breath hitches in his mouth. It’s deep, slow, one that has your brain stutter. When you finally catch up, your eyelids flutter shut and you start to kiss back.

- Grayson’s petty. That was such an unfair move. Plus, he’s sick of being the one always hot and bothered. As soon as he feels you lean in, he pulls away. Your controller is back into your hands and he acts like nothing happened.

- He wants you to say something. To do something. Instead, you tear your gaze off of him and refocus. He would almost think you’re unperturbed if he didn’t feel your thighs squeeze together next to him, how you shifted in your seat.

- He’s stubborn. So are you. Clearly this is an invitation to play a different type of game. He’s going to have you bent over one way or another.

Note: Not entirely proofread. I’ll link part 2 on this post when I finish it :3

@loafersrs @selfdeprecatingnerd

[munsonsmixtapes]

That's My Man

rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader

Eddie defends you in an interview and you repay him in the most generous way

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (m receiving) handjob, the interviewer makes some inappropriate comments about reader

This is a request made my the always lovely @the-witty-pen-name who also came up with the title!

Eddie puts on the pair of headphones that were pervaded for him as the “on air” sign glows the bright red, signaling that the show has started. He doesn’t even know why he even agreed to this interview. The guy’s an ass and Eddie just knows that he’s inevitably going to say something inappropriate. 

He’s really only doing this because his team begged him to. Why, he doesn’t know since the majority of the band’s fanbase hates the kind of guy that Rick is. He’s everything in the book that Eddie can’t stand and now he’s gotta sit here for an hour for his segment. It can’t be too bad, can it? 

“Eddie, welcome,” Rick greets and Eddie puts on a smile even though all he really wants is to kick Rick’s ass. He’s unfortunately caught clips of the show here and there and all he does is sexualize women and talk badly about people of color and members of the LGBTQ+ community. 

“Hey, thanks,” Eddie replies, trying his best to not say something he really shouldn’t. He just sits there and waits for Rick to start the conversation. 

“So you’ve got a new album out which is “From the Upside Down.” What was the process like for creating the record?” Eddie’s genuinely caught off guard by the question considering that Rick never seems to care about that kind of thing. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he initially thought. 

“It was actually so different from what we’ve done for past albums. We actually did everything ourselves this time and that was really fun. We took some time off and wrote a bunch of songs and Gareth actually produced them so that was a really cool process to see.” 

Eddie loves talking about his music. It’s like a parent talking about their child. He’s always so proud of himself and his bandmates for what they do and he doesn’t think that’s ever going to change. They worked so hard to get where they are now and he’s nothing but grateful that this is his job. 

“That’s very interesting,” Rick nods and there’s just something about the look on his face that makes it obvious that he’s about to say some dumb shit. “So I know you’re seeing y/n l/n and can I just say, well done, man.” Yep, definitely some dumb shit. 

Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. Normally, Eddie would love to talk about you. It’s actually his favorite thing to do. But not like this, not in the way that Rick and a lot of other men like to. Where they just sexualize you and reduce you to an object. Eddie won’t stand for that for anyone, but especially not you. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m “seeing” her,” Eddie laughs nervously. You’ve been trying to keep your relationship under wraps for the past six months but it’s so hard to do when the two of you are under a microscope. 

“Oh, so you wouldn’t categorize this as seeing her?” Rick asks as he pulls up a photo of you and Eddie kissing outside a bar. He didn’t even know that anyone had taken photos of that and now he feels gross.

“Well-” he tries to explain himself but Rick quickly cuts him off. 

“Is she a good kisser? Better yet, is she good in bed?” All of this makes Eddie want to throw up and he can’t believe that men like Rick actually have the audacity to ask questions like that. 

“I don’t feel comfortable answering that,” he answers politely even though he’s seconds away from a crash out. 

“C’mon, you can tell me. It’s just us.” It’s actually not considering it’s a live radio show and even if it wasn’t, that’s something just between you and Eddie and no one else. Especially not pigs like Rick. 

“No, I’m not sharing anything about our relationship. That’s the only thing we have that’s ours.” 

“Is she flexible? I bet she’s flexible.” He shows Eddie a photo of you doing a split on stage and his lunch is about to come up. “Oh yeah, definitely-” 

Rick doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence before Eddie snatches the tablet and slams it down on the table. He would never let any woman be talked about this way. Especially not his girlfriend. 

The anger is festering and he’s having a real hard time trying to keep his cool. Fuck that. He’s not going to be so nice anymore, not wanting anymore disgusting things to be said about you. He can’t let anything else be said about you or he’s going to do something he regrets. 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he points at Rick, glaring at the man and the man actually looks afraid of him. Good. “I know you tend to objectify women and that shit stood today. If I ever hear you talk about anyone else this way or in a derogatory manner, you’ll have me to answer to. Now keep my wife’s name out of your mouth or we’re going to have a problem.” 

With that, out of the room. Nothing is worth sitting there and letting that man sexualize you. It makes him feel disgusting and now he feels like he needs a long shower. He’s wiping his jacket with his hands to try to literally get rid of that feeling, but he knows the only thing that will help is seeing you. He just needs someone to talk to about the whole thing. 

He’s driving to the venue where you’re performing tonight before he can stop himself. He just wants to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, hoping that you haven’t been listening to the radio even though he’s sure that you are because you always listen to his interviews. 

Eddie’s so angry about the whole thing, still letting it eat at him even though he already took care of it. He just needs to calm down and he will as soon as he sees you. That always makes him feel better. Just thinking about you is doing the trick and when he pulls up to the venue, the weight on his shoulders is lifting.

You’re sitting in your dressing room, doing your makeup when he walks in, your face lighting up when you see him in the mirror. The anger on his face seems to melt away when he sees you, his smile matching yours as he makes a beeline for you. He saw you just this morning but the time you’ve spent away was far too long. 

You get up from your chair and he’s quick to pull you into a hug, a tight one as he buries his face into your neck. This is all he’s wanted all day, especially since he stormed out of the interview. You always seem to calm the screaming that’s constantly going on in his head. Your hand moves up into his hair, scratching at his scalp as he kisses your neck, moving your hair away from it as he does so. 

You pull away far too soon for his liking before pulling him in for a kiss. He’s needy and desperate and he just wants to show you how much he loves you. Your hands are in his hair as you lick into his mouth, moaning loudly which is only making him harder. He needs your cunt so bad and is so close to taking you right there until you begin to grind against him. 

“I heard what you said on the radio,” you tell him as you kiss down his neck, unbuttoning his jeans. “Defending me like that, it was so…hot,” you whisper the last part into his ear before biting down on the lobe before kissing his neck again, giving it a rough suck, making him squirm. 

You’re backing him up against the vanity, pinning him there as you continue to suck, his hands falling from you to grip the table behind him, white knuckling it as he lets out a whine, his cock hardening even more to the point where you can now fully feel him against you. 

“Now I feel like I owe you.” He defended you and you know it’s because you’re his wife, but you know that he would do that for anyone and that’s how you know you got one of the good ones. 

“You-you don’t owe me anything, sweetheart,” he breathes. He really wants whatever you’re willing to give but only if you really want to not because you think he deserves in return for defending you.

“How about I suck you off, is that payment enough?” His eyes widen at both your question and the way you’re biting down on him. 

“Please,” he whines, needing to get some sort of relief. You give his neck one more kiss before pulling down his jeans, his underwear following as you get down onto your knees. You’re looking up at him with lustful eyes and he watches you, wondering what you’re going to do next. 

You start by spitting into your hand then grab hold of the base, slow strokes to warm him up but they progressively get more intense. He’s already leaking with precum, letting out stuttered breaths as he watches, white knuckling as a moan escapes his lips. 

You keep up the pace, moving as fast as you can as Eddie lets out moan after moan. He’s coming undone already so you know he won’t last long. And you only have a few more minutes before you have to be on stage, so you’ve gotta make it worthwhile. You’ve really gotta make this count. 

You bring your tongue to the slit, licking up the cum that’s already come out, not wanting to waste a drop then bring your lips to the base, kissing it which catches Eddie off guard. You’re now peppering it with kisses and he somehow gets even more hard as he watches you leave lipstick prints behind. It’s hot. You’re hot and he thinks this is where he likes you most, on your knees.

You then bring your mouth back to the slit, licking it again before bringing it into your mouth, sucking lightly as Eddie’s hands wind into your hair, letting out yet another whine as you bring him in deeper, sucking harder as your tongue swirls around the head. You’re taking him inch by inch and he’s so close, on the edge of an orgasm as you finally get the last bit of him inside. 

Cum leaks into your mouth as he screams your name, your eyes watering as the head hits the back of your throat, gagging as you suck him off for just a bit longer. Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you pull him out of your mouth with a loud pop, making sure to swallow as he helps you to your feet. 

Eddie pats your tears dry with a tissue so as to not smudge your makeup before you press a lingering kiss to his lips. You clean him up before pulling up his pants and touching up your lipstick.

“How’s that for repaying you?” You ask and he smiles, still dizzy from receiving the best head of his life as he follows you to the side of the stage, wondering how he can get you to do that again once your show is over. He’s sure that you won’t need much convincing.

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | it was never meant to be (1/2) continued...

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, franco colapinto ୨ৎ : synopsis : your ex f1 boyfriend regrets letting you go so easily.

୨ৎ : genre : reconcilation, heartbreak, angst, sad themes, moving-on ୨ৎ : tws : moving onto someone else, unforgiveness ୨ৎ : word count : 2301

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

୨ৎ find part one here ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was requested, and since you guys asked, you shall recieve! (buy me a ko-fi? ☕️)

ʚ・max verstappen

“this is insane,” ryan said, leaning closer to you so you could hear him over the noise. “i’ve only ever seen this on tv. it’s way more intense in person.”

you chuckled, slipping your hand into his. “i told you it’s a whole different world. i wanted you to see it for yourself.”

ryan squeezed your hand, his grin widening. “i’m glad you brought me. it’s incredible.”

from across the paddock, max verstappen’s gaze landed on you. he had spotted you the moment you walked in, his eyes immediately drawn to the man at your side. max recognized the jacket ryan wore—it wasn’t from any team, just a simple, casual hoodie. no team colors. no logos. it told max everything he needed to know: ryan wasn’t part of this world.

it should have made max feel better. it didn’t.

he tried to focus on the strategy meeting happening behind him, but his attention kept straying to you. the way you leaned into ryan as you explained something about the cars. the way he laughed at whatever joke you told. the way you seemed completely at ease with him.

max clenched his jaw, a dull ache settling in his chest. he hated the way his mind worked—how he was already comparing himself to ryan, someone he didn’t even know. he hated how effortless it looked between the two of you.

“you okay?” christian’s voice cut through his thoughts, startling him. max turned to see his team principal watching him with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah, fine,” max muttered, forcing his attention back to the conversation. but his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to you and ryan every chance they got.

after the race, the paddock was a mixture of celebration and chaos. charles had finished on the podium, and you made your way to the ferrari hospitality area to congratulate him. ryan followed closely behind, still taking in the sights and sounds of the post-race festivities.

“charles!” you called, throwing your arms around him as he stepped off the stage. he laughed, hugging you back.

“merci, y/n,” charles said, his smile genuine. “i didn’t know you’d be here today. it’s good to see you.”

you stepped aside, introducing ryan to charles. “this is ryan, my boyfriend. he’s never been to a race before, so i thought i’d show him what it’s all about.”

charles shook ryan’s hand, offering him a warm smile. “bienvenue. i hope she hasn’t scared you off with all her f1 knowledge.”

ryan laughed. “not yet. she’s been amazing—explaining everything and showing me around. i can see why she loves it so much.”

max watched the interaction from a distance, his stomach twisting. he didn’t need to be close to hear what was being said. he could see it all—the way ryan looked at you, the way you looked back at him.

and then you laughed, that familiar sound that once belonged to max. it hit him like a punch to the gut.

he didn’t realize charles had spotted him until the monegasque walked over, leaving you and ryan to chat. “you’re staring,” charles said bluntly, his voice low.

max tore his gaze away, fixing his eyes on the ground. “i’m not.”

charles didn’t buy it, his sharp eyes narrowing. “she’s happy, max. let her be.”

“i know,” max snapped, his tone harsher than he intended. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “i know.”

charles nodded, satisfied that his point had been made. “then act like it.”

max stayed where he was as charles walked away, his words lingering. you were happy. that should have been enough for max. but as he watched ryan wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, he couldn’t stop the jealousy from burning in his chest.

he’d had his chance. he let it slip through his fingers. and now, someone else got to be the reason for your smile.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis sat on the edge of his couch, the phone in his hand feeling heavier than it should. his thumb hovered over your instagram profile, the notification mocking him—y/n added a new photo. he shouldn’t look. he knew that much. but curiosity—or maybe guilt—won out.

the picture hit him harder than any crash ever could. there you were, smiling brighter than he remembered, standing next to a man he didn’t know. his arm was wrapped around your waist, and the caption was simple: finally showing him my world. his first race weekend.

lewis’s chest tightened. he let the phone fall into his lap, staring blankly at the screen. the man in the photo wasn’t part of this world—no polished media training, no rehearsed charm. just a regular guy. a guy who got to see you laugh like that. a guy who now stood in the spot lewis had willingly given up.

roscoe stirred from his bed in the corner of the room, padding over to his side. the dog let out a soft huff, his head tilting as if to ask, what’s wrong?

lewis sighed, reaching down to rub behind roscoe’s ears. “i messed up, mate,” he said, his voice low and rough. “i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought…” his voice trailed off as the weight of his choices settled on his shoulders.

he had convinced himself it was for the best when he let you go. told himself that the pr relationship would be easier, cleaner, better for his image. but it was all a lie—a shiny, hollow lie. and while he had fallen into the illusion, you had slipped through his fingers.

roscoe rested his head on lewis’s knee, his big eyes filled with understanding. lewis let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “yeah, i know. i gave up something real for something fake. and look at me now.”

his mind wandered back to the night it all fell apart. the look on your face when he had admitted he couldn’t keep his promises. the way your voice had cracked when you’d asked if any of it had been real. he told himself it was for the best, but now, seeing you happy—truly happy with someone else—it hit him just how much he had lost.

he stared at the photo again, his hand resting on roscoe’s back as the dog gave a soft sigh. “you know,” he murmured, “i thought i’d feel relief seeing her move on. but all i feel is regret.”

roscoe looked up at him, his eyes almost accusing. lewis let out a long breath, leaning back against the couch as the phone screen dimmed. the laughter in your eyes in that photo wasn’t for him anymore. it was for someone else.

and he had no one to blame but himself.

ʚ・george russell

the roar of engines filled the paddock, but george’s mind was elsewhere. he had spotted you from across the garage, standing alone near the mclaren hospitality. you were dressed casually, a faint smile gracing your lips as you watched the bustle around you. for a moment, he let himself imagine that smile was for him.

he had been drowning in regret ever since the day he ended things, convincing himself it was for the best, for his career. but every time he saw her—the woman he’d left you for—it felt empty. fake. nothing like what he had with you.

before he could stop himself, his legs carried him toward you, his heart pounding louder than the engines in the background.

“y/n,” he called softly, catching your attention.

you turned, your expression faltering when you saw him. “george,” you greeted, your tone guarded.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice laced with something raw—something you hadn’t heard in a long time.

you hesitated but eventually nodded, following him to a quieter corner near the back of the garage. the air between you was thick, heavy with unspoken words and old wounds.

“i just…” he began, running a hand through his hair. “i wanted to say i’m sorry. for everything. for how i handled it. for breaking your trust.”

you crossed your arms, looking at him with a mixture of hurt and skepticism. “why now, george? what’s changed?”

he hesitated, his blue eyes meeting yours with an honesty that made your chest ache. “i made the biggest mistake of my life,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i was doing what was right for my career, but… i wasn’t thinking about what was right for me. and now, i see that i let go of the one person who actually cared about me—not the driver, not the brand, just me.”

you let his words sink in, the raw emotion in his voice undeniable. but the scars he’d left were still fresh, still tender.

“i don’t know what you expect me to say,” you replied, your tone steady but distant. “you hurt me, george. you chose someone else—someone who wasn’t even real—over me. and now, after all this time, you want to apologize?”

he nodded, swallowing hard. “i know i don’t deserve another chance. i know i have no right to ask for anything from you. but i needed to tell you how sorry i am. i miss you, y/n. every single day.”

you sighed, your resolve wavering for a moment before you shook your head. “i’m not ready, george. you don’t just get to walk back into my life and expect everything to be okay. if you want to fix this—if you even can—it’s going to take a lot more than an apology.”

he nodded again, his shoulders slumping. “i’ll do whatever it takes,” he said softly. “i just want you to know that i’ll never stop trying.”

you looked at him for a long moment, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep inside you. but you weren’t ready to let him in—not yet.

without another word, you turned and walked back toward the paddock, leaving george standing alone. for the first time in months, though, he felt a glimmer of hope. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind him that you were worth fighting for—and this time, he wouldn’t let you go without a fight.

ʚ・franco colapinto

the café was small and cozy, tucked away on a quiet street corner, and you were grateful for the escape from the cold breeze outside. the familiar scent of coffee and pastries filled the air as you approached the counter, glancing at the menu. it was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon, one where you didn’t have to think about the past.

but fate had other plans.

“y/n?”

the voice was hesitant, familiar, and unmistakable. your stomach twisted as you turned to see franco standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. he looked different—tired, older, like he’d been carrying the weight of regret for far too long.

your expression hardened instinctively, the wounds he’d left still tender. “franco,” you said curtly, your tone clipped.

“i… i didn’t think i’d see you here,” he said, his voice soft, almost cautious.

“neither did i,” you replied, turning back toward the counter, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

but he didn’t. instead, he stepped closer, his presence lingering like a shadow. “please, can we talk?”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “i don’t think there’s much left to say, franco.”

“maybe not for you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly, “but i’ve been waiting for a chance to apologize. to explain.”

you hesitated, the raw emotion in his voice stopping you in your tracks. slowly, you turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “you want to explain?” you said, your tone sharper than you intended. “go ahead, franco. explain why you broke my heart and threw away everything we had.”

he winced at your words, his shoulders sagging as he ran a hand through his hair. “i was an idiot,” he said simply. “i thought i was doing what was best for me—what would make me happy. but i was wrong. i was selfish, and i hurt you, and i’ve regretted it every single day since.”

you stared at him, your anger warring with the part of you that still remembered the good times, the laughter, the connection you once shared.

“i don’t know if i can forgive you,” you said honestly, your voice quieter now.

“i don’t expect you to,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “but i want to try. i miss you, y/n. not just as someone i loved, but as my best friend. i miss us.”

your heart ached at his words, the honesty in them cutting through the layers of resentment you’d built up. “you hurt me, franco,” you said softly. “it’s not something i can just forget.”

“i know,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. even if it’s just as friends. i just… i can’t go on knowing i didn’t at least try to fix this.”

you sighed, the weight of his words settling over you. part of you wanted to walk away, to protect yourself from the possibility of getting hurt again. but another part—the part that still cared, no matter how much you tried to deny it—wanted to give him a chance.

“friends,” you said finally, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. “that’s all we are right now, franco. if you want anything more, you’ll have to prove it to me.”

his face lit up with a faint, hopeful smile, and he nodded. “i will. i promise.”

you gave him a small, tentative smile in return. it wasn’t a clean slate, but it was a start. and maybe—just maybe—you could rebuild something worth holding onto.

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