#I really REALLY love it when he bubbles even thought it's as rare as a rain in the summer

[its-avalon-08]

chicken shop date (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - little angst, tears, comfort, jealousy

"Hey, babe," Lando called out as he walked into the living room, his voice casual, as if he was mentioning the weather. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading, her eyes narrowing a little, sensing something was coming. "I’ve got to head out for a bit later. Media duties. You know how it is."

"Yeah, where to?" Y/N asked, pretending she wasn’t bothered, even though her gut told her this wasn’t just any media duty.

Lando plopped down beside her on the couch, leaning back with his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. "Just some interview thing. The Chicken Shop Date."

Her heart sank a little. "The one with Amelia?"

Lando nodded, not catching the slight change in her tone. "Yeah, should be fun, right? It’s been all over social media. Apparently, people love that show."

Y/N forced a smile. "Yeah… fun."

He didn’t notice the hesitation, scrolling through his phone as if it was no big deal. "It’s just an interview, nothing serious. I’ll be back by dinner."

Y/N gave a tight nod. "Okay, sure. It’s fine."

But it wasn’t. It didn’t help that she knew how these things played out online. Fans loved to pair drivers up with anyone and everyone, and Amelia was already adored. Y/N tried not to think about it too much, but the insecurity crept in. The doubt, the comparison—it all bubbled beneath the surface.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando sat across from Amelia, lights blaring overhead, the cameras rolling, and the familiar buzz of media duties surrounding him. He smiled and laughed at her jokes, played along with the teasing banter, but his mind wasn’t really in the conversation. It was on Y/N.

As Amelia quipped something about his love for chicken, Lando gave the expected laugh, but inside, all he could think about was how Y/N would have found that moment funny—actually funny, not forced for the sake of the cameras. She had this way of cracking up over the smallest things, making even the most mundane moments between them feel like they were in their own little world. He shifted in his seat, nodding as Amelia asked him another question, but it was Y/N’s voice he wanted to hear, not Amelia’s.

I should’ve texted her before this started, he thought. She hates these things. She probably thinks this is stupid.

His smile faltered for a split second before he masked it again with his easy-going charm. Lando’s mind wandered, picturing Y/N curled up on the couch, probably watching something on Netflix, or worse—doom-scrolling through social media where people would already be buzzing about him and Amelia. He knew how much she hated seeing those comments.

"Do you always pick chicken on a date?" Amelia asked, her voice pulling him back to the present.

He smirked automatically, playing along. "Depends on the girl, I guess."

But in his mind, there was only one girl. He could almost hear Y/N’s sarcastic response if she’d been there. Something like “Oh wow, such a Casanova.” He bit back a real grin, wishing he was with her instead, eating pizza on the floor like they always did when they had time to themselves.

As Amelia tossed another teasing question his way, Lando nodded again, but his thoughts drifted to Y/N’s smile. Her real smile, the one she only showed when she was truly happy—her eyes crinkling at the edges, dimples making their rare but precious appearance. God, I love that smile, he thought. How do I even survive without seeing it every day?

The interview continued, but Lando was only half there. His answers were automatic, the jokes came easy enough, but his heart was back home with Y/N. He could already imagine the comments that would flood in after this aired—the inevitable “couple goals” remarks about him and Amelia, the fans who shipped them just because they shared a few laughs on camera. He hated how much Y/N would probably see it all and doubt herself again.

She’s the one, he reminded himself, trying to focus as Amelia asked him about his worst date experience. But his mind flickered to the time he and Y/N had gotten completely soaked during an impromptu storm on what was supposed to be a romantic picnic. It had been a disaster, but also perfect, because it was with her.

The interview wrapped up eventually, and as he stood up to leave, Lando’s first instinct was to check his phone. A text from Y/N popped up.

How’s it going? Did you eat all the chicken yet?

He grinned down at the message, a wave of warmth washing over him. She’s probably teasing, but I know she’s anxious, he thought, his fingers quickly tapping out a response.

Miss you. Be home soon.

Amelia said something to him on the way out, but he barely registered it. His mind was already miles away, back where he belonged—next to Y/N.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Y/N sat on the couch, her phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, Instagram, and every other app she swore she’d avoid today. The comments were relentless, each one stabbing at the insecurities she’d been trying so hard to ignore.

Amelia and Lando are too cute together! Lando needs someone like Amelia, not Y/N. Amelia is just…better. They have way more chemistry than Lando and his actual girlfriend, LOL.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat as she let the phone fall onto her lap. The words kept spinning in her mind. They shouldn’t have bothered her this much, but they did. The laughter and teasing between Lando and Amelia from the video replayed in her mind, feeding her doubts.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her, breaking her out of the spiral. She sighed, assuming it was more notifications from the post, but the name on the screen made her pause.

Carlitos.

She hesitated, not wanting to deal with anyone right now, but something told her to pick up. Carlos wouldn’t call without a reason.

“Hey, Carlitos,” she answered, trying her best to sound casual.

But Carlos knew her too well. "You’re doom-scrolling, aren’t you?"

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, her eyes darting to her phone again as if he could see everything she’d just read. "No… I mean, maybe a little. How do you know?"

Carlos chuckled softly on the other end. "I just do. I saw the interview, and I figured you’d be reading all that rubbish online. You know how people get with these things."

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. "It’s not just people. It’s like… I don’t know, Carlos. They’re saying Lando and Amelia have more chemistry than we do. And I… I can’t help but think, what if they’re right?"

There was a brief silence before Carlos spoke, his voice gentle but firm. "You’re kidding, right? Lando adores you. You should see the way he talks about you when you’re not around. You’ve got nothing to worry about."

Y/N’s chest tightened. "But did you see the video? They looked… I don’t know, comfortable. Like they fit."

Carlos let out a soft sigh. "Y/N, of course they looked comfortable. It’s an interview, they’re supposed to. And Amelia’s whole thing is to make it playful. But you and Lando—what you two have is real. Not some staged banter for the cameras."

She stayed silent, biting her lip, unsure if she could believe him.

"You’ve been with him through everything, Y/N," Carlos continued, his voice softer now. "The highs, the lows, the things the cameras never see. What you two have isn’t for the internet to decide. It’s for you and Lando, and no one else."

Y/N swallowed, her eyes stinging as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. "I just… I hate feeling like I’m not enough for him sometimes."

Carlos paused for a moment before speaking again, this time with more conviction. "Listen to me. You are more than enough. Lando knows it. I know it. And deep down, you know it too. The internet? They’ll always talk, but they don’t know the first thing about your relationship."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. "Yeah, I guess."

"No, not ‘I guess,’" Carlos insisted. "I’m telling you. Lando loves you. He doesn’t care about Amelia or anyone else. And if he saw you right now, he’d probably punch himself for letting you feel like this."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N, despite the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks. "You’re too good to me, Carlos."

"Someone’s got to keep an eye on you when Lando’s off doing these ridiculous interviews," he teased, his tone lighter now. "But seriously, promise me you’ll stop reading those comments. They don’t matter."

Y/N nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I’ll try. Thanks, Carlos. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, Y/N. And if you ever need a reminder, just call me, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly, feeling the weight on her chest slowly lift.

"And remember," Carlos added, his voice warm and reassuring, "you’re family. We’ve all got your back, no matter what. Especially me."

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling at his words. "I know. Thank you, Carlos. Really."

"Now, go put your phone down and do something that makes you happy. Lando will be home soon, and he’s probably missing you already."

Y/N let out a soft chuckle. "You’re right. I’ll stop the doom-scrolling."

"Good," Carlos said, his smile evident through the phone. "Talk soon, Y/N."

"Bye, Carlos."

As the call ended, Y/N set her phone down, feeling a bit lighter. Carlos was right. Lando loved her, and she couldn’t let the opinions of people who didn’t even know them take that away. With a deep breath, she got up, deciding to make dinner and wait for Lando, her heart feeling a little more at peace.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando was driving back home, the streets quiet, his mind wandering between the day’s events and how much he just wanted to be with Y/N. He could already imagine her waiting for him, maybe with some sarcastic comment about the interview, but her smile would say it all. That was his Y/N.

His phone rang, breaking him out of his thoughts. Seeing Carlos’ name flash on the screen, he raised an eyebrow, quickly connecting his Bluetooth before answering.

“Carlos, what’s up?” Lando asked casually, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Mate, we need to talk,” Carlos’ tone was serious, which immediately caught Lando’s attention. “It’s about Y/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Is she okay?”

“She’s been doom scrolling, Lando,” Carlos sighed. “All the comments about you and Amelia… they’re getting to her. Badly.”

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as his heart started to race. No, no, no… I should’ve checked on her more. I should’ve known this would happen.

“Shit,” Lando muttered under his breath, the image of Y/N’s hurt expression flashing in his mind. “How bad is it?”

“She’s really upset,” Carlos said softly. “I just talked to her. She’s trying to act like it’s fine, but you know Y/N. She’s hurt, man.”

Lando’s mind started spiraling. The interview with Amelia had been playful, nothing more. But of course, the internet had twisted it into something else. And he hadn’t even thought to reassure Y/N after it. How could I be so stupid? She’s always had a hard time with stuff like this.

He could already picture her sitting at home, scrolling through all those hateful comments, each one cutting deeper than the last. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Guilt washed over him in waves, his mind running a mile a minute.

“You need to fix this, mate,” Carlos added. “She needs to hear it from you.”

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, though Carlos couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll fix it. Thanks, Carlos.”

“Don’t let her sit with it too long, alright? You know how she gets.”

Lando’s chest felt tight as he ended the call. His thoughts swirled, an overwhelming sense of panic bubbling inside him. She’s hurting because of me. I should’ve known. Why didn’t I check in with her sooner?

He couldn’t stop the spiral. His mind raced through every scenario—Y/N sitting there, thinking she wasn’t good enough, believing for even a second that anyone, let alone Amelia, could ever come close to what she meant to him. What if she starts pulling away? What if she starts believing those comments?

Lando could feel the pressure building in his chest, his heart pounding as he drove. He hated the thought of her doubting his feelings, doubting herself. She was the most important person in his life, the one he thought about constantly. How could she not know that?

I need to make it up to her. I need to show her how much I love her.

As he passed a convenience store, he swerved into the parking lot on impulse, throwing the car into park. He rushed inside, his eyes scanning the aisles in a frenzy. What would make her smile? What would remind her that she’s everything?

His heart still raced as he grabbed her favorite chocolate, the one she always ate when she was feeling down. Next, he spotted a small display of flowers—bright, colorful blooms that would make her laugh at how cheesy they were. He grabbed those too, along with a soft plush bear that looked far too childish but somehow felt perfect for this moment.

As he stood at the checkout, waiting for the clerk to ring everything up, his mind was still spinning. What if it’s not enough? What if she’s already convinced herself that she’s not good enough for me?

No, he told himself firmly. I’ll make her see. I’ll make her believe it.

He rushed back to the car, throwing the flowers and chocolates onto the passenger seat, already picturing her face when she saw them. She deserves the world, and I’ve been too caught up to remind her of that. I’m such an idiot.

The drive home felt longer than ever, his heart pounding in his chest as his thoughts swirled between guilt, panic, and determination. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He grabbed everything from the seat, taking a deep breath as he walked up to the door. I need to fix this.

Lando fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. He stepped inside quietly, his eyes immediately searching for her. The house was quiet, but he knew she was there. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging between them.

“Y/N?” he called softly, stepping further into the house, the flowers and chocolates held awkwardly in his hands.

She appeared from the living room, her eyes red-rimmed, a telltale sign that she’d been crying. Seeing her like that nearly broke him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando swallowed hard, his heart aching at the sight of her. “I, uh, got you something,” he said, holding up the flowers and chocolates, his voice shaky with nerves.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the items in his hands, a soft, surprised smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite her sadness.

“Why?” she asked, though her voice wasn’t accusatory—it was more like she didn’t understand why he would do something so sweet when she felt so far from deserving it.

“Because…” Lando stepped closer, his chest tightening again as he searched for the right words. “Because I love you, and I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve known how all of this would make you feel, and I didn’t—” He took a deep breath, his voice catching slightly. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what anyone says. I only care about you.”

She looked at him, her eyes softening, but the hurt was still there. “Lando, I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you. And with everything people are saying—”

“Stop,” Lando interrupted, stepping closer and setting the flowers and chocolates down so he could take her hands in his. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. I hate that you ever doubted that, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop it before it got this far.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt pouring out. “I should’ve texted you, called you, anything. I hate that you had to sit there and read all those stupid comments. I love you, Y/N. No one else, not Amelia, not anyone. Just you.”

Y/N’s lip trembled, her walls breaking down as she looked into his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Lando promised, his voice firm as he pulled her into a tight hug. “You won’t lose me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt, but Lando didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was in his arms, and he was never letting go.

“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her voice muffled but full of emotion.

“I love you more,” Lando murmured, kissing the top of her head softly. "Always."

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

The race weekend buzz filled the paddock, mechanics and engineers bustling around in preparation for the big day. Lando stood near his McLaren, helmet in hand, but his eyes were focused on Y/N, standing just a few feet away. She was watching him, that small, soft smile on her lips that always made his heart race more than any lap could.

They hadn’t spoken much since arriving at the track, but everything between them felt different now—closer, stronger. And as Lando walked toward her, the noise of the paddock seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. “Ready to win today?” she asked, her voice teasing but full of warmth.

Lando grinned, but something stirred in him as he stood there, watching her. He couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he needed to do more—show her, not just tell her, how much she meant to him. Not later, not when the race was over, but now. Right now.

Without thinking twice, he closed the gap between them in two quick strides. His helmet dropped from his hand, clattering to the ground, but he didn’t care.

“Lando?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening in surprise as he reached for her.

Before she could say anything more, Lando cupped her face in his hands, pulling her in for a kiss—a deep, passionate kiss that made the world around them disappear. His lips moved against hers with an intensity that spoke louder than words ever could, his hands trembling slightly as he held her close.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively gripping the front of his race suit as she melted into him, caught completely off guard by the suddenness of it. But the way he kissed her—the urgency, the need—told her everything she needed to know.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together. The paddock around them had come to a standstill, everyone frozen in place, eyes wide as they witnessed the moment.

Lando smiled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he whispered, “I love you so much, Y/N. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of shock and happiness, her cheeks flushed. “Lando… I—”

But before she could finish, he kissed her again—this time softer, more tender, but still just as full of meaning.

When he pulled back, Y/N let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “You do realize you just kissed me in front of half the grid, right?”

Lando grinned, glancing around for the first time to see the eyes of drivers, team members, and media locked on them. Phones were out, no doubt capturing the moment that was already spreading across the internet like wildfire.

“Good,” he said with a mischievous smirk. “Now the whole world knows who I love.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she playfully hit his chest. “You’re such a show-off.”

“Only for you,” Lando teased, pulling her in for one last quick kiss. “Gotta give them something to talk about, right?”

As he bent down to grab his helmet, his eyes stayed locked on hers, the playful grin never leaving his face. He knew what he’d just done—how this moment was going to blow up online, how everyone was going to be talking about the “kiss heard ‘round the paddock.”

And honestly, he didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them post. Let the internet go wild.

He winked at her as he started to back toward the car. “Wish me luck?”

Y/N smiled brightly, her heart racing from the kiss and the moment that felt so surreal. “You don’t need luck,” she called after him. “You’ve got me.”

Lando laughed, a lightness in his chest as he put on his helmet, ready for the race. But before he climbed into the car, he stole one last glance at her.

And when he saw her standing there, beaming at him, he knew—he’d already won.

By the time Lando was strapped in and the race was about to begin, the internet had already exploded.

“Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a kiss before the race—power move!” “Is this the most romantic moment in F1 history?” “#LandosLove trending as fans lose their minds over that kiss.”

But all that mattered to Lando, sitting in his McLaren, was the fact that Y/N was there, watching him, and she knew—without a doubt—that she was the only one he cared about.

And today, he was going to win. For her.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

As soon as the kiss went viral, Instagram was flooded with posts, stories, and comments, with fans going absolutely wild over the moment.

@f1updates 📸 | Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a passionate kiss before hopping into his McLaren! 💥🔥 #LandoNorris #F1Romance #PaddockGoals

Comments:

@racingqueen_: SOMEONE GET ME AN OXYGEN TANK. I CAN’T BREATHE. 😍🔥

@fastandflirty: The way he just grabbed her and kissed her like he didn’t care who was watching?! Lando, sir, that’s illegal. 😳😭

@fanofchampions: This is the most romantic thing to ever happen in F1, I swear.

@speedqueen_: “I love you and I don’t care who knows it.” PLEASE HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE, I’M SOBBING. 😭

@racingislife: The internet isn’t ready for the #LandosLove era. 🥺❤️

@lan_y/nforever: This is NOT a drill. My heart cannot handle this.

@mclarensoulmate: F1 who? I’m now a fan of Lando’s romance arc. 🥹🌹

@formula1love 📷 Lando Norris and Y/N — the ultimate paddock couple. The kiss that broke the internet! 💏🔥 #CoupleGoals #LandosLove #F1

Comments:

@gridgirl_gossip: THAT KISS WAS STRAIGHT OUT OF A MOVIE, I’M NOT OKAY. 🥵💥

@checkeredlovestory: And Lando said, “Let me set the internet on fire real quick.” 😂🔥

@speeddiva: Can we talk about how they didn’t care about ANYONE around them? Like, iconic behavior.

@mclarensnumberone: They’re the new Brangelina of F1. No one can tell me otherwise. 😭

@thisgridisburning: This is better than any podium celebration I’ve ever seen in F1! 🏆💖

@formulaonedaydream: I want what they have. NO ONE TALK TO ME.

@mclarenofficial We knew Lando was fast on track, but that kiss was next level. 😉💨 #LandoNorris #PaddockLove

Comments:

@y/nation: WE ARE SCREAMING! THAT WAS THE KISS OF THE CENTURY. 👏🏽🔥

@lanfanofficial: Can Lando stop being perfect for like, five minutes? 🥲

@gridromantic: Not Lando turning the paddock into his own personal rom-com! I’m WEAK.

@mclarensbabes: Lando just raised the bar for every F1 driver’s girlfriend/boyfriend! Good luck topping that, lads. 😂💖

@inlove_with_speed: I’m crying, I’m laughing, I’m DYING. No one can compete with them. 💀

@landonorrisfanclub Lando's not just winning races—he’s winning at love too. 🥺💙 That kiss?! We’re still recovering. #LandoAndY/N #F1CoupleGoals

Comments:

@allthegridfeels: If this isn’t the definition of relationship goals, I don’t know what is.

@lapsofemotion: The way he didn’t care who saw it… I'm screaming.

@teambae: The power they hold over us all is unreal. 💥💖

@racedaydreamer: They really gave us a full-blown rom-com in the middle of the paddock, and I’M HERE FOR IT.

@getinthegrid: Someone write a fanfic about this moment RIGHT NOW.

@gridsweethearts Did Lando just set the bar for every F1 driver’s love life? Yes. Yes, he did. 💥😳 #LandoNorris #Y/N #LoveInThePaddock

Comments:

@racingheartbeats: I’m sobbing, they’re so beautiful together. I can’t even. 🥲

@formula1dreamer: Lando, what did you put in that kiss?! I FELT THAT IN MY SOUL. 😭

@mclovingspeed: That was the most iconic thing ever. No one’s gonna top that.

@lan_y/nfanforever: Lando just casually redefined love in F1. The paddock belongs to them now.

The hashtag #LandosLove began trending worldwide within minutes, fans sharing clips, edits, and reactions to the unexpected yet intensely romantic moment. It wasn't just a race weekend anymore—it was the weekend Lando and Y/N stole the show.

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: SHOKO (feat. The Boys)

A/N: This took an entirely different route than I expected when I first started dribbling it. This was a fun one 🤭

C/W: Cuckholding, Mature, 18+

Fact: You are the hottest woman alive.

Fact: Shoko is no better than a man.

Shoko is no better than a man because she has used you — your pictures, your smile, your tight hugs — as her personal spank bank.

Truthfully, she can’t really pinpoint the moment you broke her brain.

All she remembers is that there was an inflection point in time. Before meeting you. And after meeting you.

And the funniest part of it all is that you two have nothing in common.

Shoko is a sorcerer at Jujutsu Tech. You are a normie at University of Tokyo.

Shoko can count on one hand how many people she can tolerate. People flock to you in droves. And you like it.

Shoko is red wine and cigarettes. You are champagne and birthday cake.

So how the hell did a bubble gum, pretty pink, girly girl, princess work her way into Shoko’s life? And take permanent residence in a little (extremely large) part of her brain?

Not to mention the havoc you are wreaking in her heart. Whatever is left of the cold, shriveled plumbing system keeping her alive.

When was it exactly?

Shoko lights another cigarette on her short 2 mile walk home. You have a habit of making her burn through her vices.

Was it the night you went out dancing?

When the dress you wore made Shoko see God?

You grinded every part of your mind-altering curves on her, and Shoko left sopping wet. At home she immediately reached for her vibrator. Unable to look herself in the eye for a full day after that.

Or maybe it was the time you fell asleep curled up in her lap. Wearing one of her old ratty softball shirts, smelling like her shampoo. Small, rhythmic breaths flowing from your lips.

You looked like the missing puzzle piece in Shoko’s life.

No, no.

It’s definitely was the time you came barreling into her apartment with balloons and flowers and cupcakes that were too sweet. All because Shoko had finally mastered her reversed curse technique before the prodigal sons.

You can barely even grasp the concept of curses. And why would you?

A soft, gentle soul like you couldn’t muster enough negativity to form a curse.

You live in the clouds. Among the angels. You can’t see curses and yet — somehow —you’re the most supernatural person in any room.

She’s completely, fully, idiotically smitten with you.

And so is everybody else.

You pretty, unaware little thing. You have the two strongest sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech and their personal medic wrapped around your dainty fingers and you have no idea.

Suguru? He stares. Vision sharper than a hawk. He watches you talk, eat, walk, text, think. Suguru anticipates your next breath and would kiss oxygen into your mouth if he could. Even still, despite how taken he is, Suguru is the best at concealing his puppy love.

Satoru is the absolute worst.

Limitless goes off the second you step into a room. And Satoru rarely clicks off his technique otherwise. Even when it’s just Shoko or Suguru around.

He all but chains you to his body. He’s always lifting you, hugging you, carrying you, holding your hand, holding your hair. Satoru would crawl inside of your body and live there, if he could.

Then there’s Shoko.

Who seethes when anyone looks your way. But also masturbates to the thought of other people touching you.

A fucking mess of a conundrum, right?

The first time it happened was about 8 months ago. Definitely one too many glasses of Cabernet were poured. You two were gabbing on the phone. Exchanging the best and worst sex you’ve had to date.

And you. In that melodic, breathy, gossamer thin voice of yours that belongs in Heaven’s choir started saying the dirtiest things. About how cock-drunk you were. How you begged and pleaded for more. Swallowed cum like it was your only sustenance. And squirted all over your lover, only to kiss it off his face after.

Shoko touched herself until she came right then and there. On the phone. You unknowingly talking her through her one of the most satisfying orgasms of her life.

Since then it’s been a horrible habit she’s given into time and time again.

And who’s to say? Maybe it’s from constantly being in the shadows of Suguru’s Sun and Satoru’s Moon that there’s comfort in watching from the side lines?

Maybe she’s found the sweet pleasure in that pain and it’s manifested as her lust for others having their way with you? And her blind infatuation with you?

No, wait.

Not blind.

With you it’s like she has the Six Eyes. And with you, so does everyone else.

Shoko drags in a long, exasperated breath. Pausing just outside her apartment entrance, stomping out the last of her menthol.

If the time she spent mulling over you in her mind could be converted caloric energy - she’d be a supermodel by now.

Whatever.

Today’s the best day of the week. Friday.

Which means when Shoko opens her door, you’re going to be fussing about the kitchen. Cooking some kind of dessert for Movie Night.

The Boys usually trip over themselves getting to Shoko’s apartment after classes. But there’s always an idyllic 15 minutes where Shoko has you all to herself.

15 minutes in Heaven. Like she’s a damn middle school girl.

Shoko opens her door and nearly flatlines.

You’re evil.

An evil, mean, cruel tease.

You KNOW anyone with eyes would have a stroke at the site of you.

Fully bent over at the waist, rummaging through pots and pans. Not a single blemish on your silky smooth skin. Your lilac boy shorts could not BE any tighter. And of course, they’re just short enough to not cover the plump shelf of your lower ass cheeks.

Shoko’s hands start twitching. Like she’s going through withdrawal.

You pop back up with a triumphant “there it is!” An empty small pot in your hands. And Shoko thinks she’ll have to add a heart attack to her growing list of ailments.

Your matching lilac tank top is egregiously and deliciously small. The sliver of tummy between the hem of the top and waist of your shorts could bring civilizations to collapse.

Not to mention that the apartment is cold. And your nipples are so painfully responsive.

Sin.

You are sin.

Wrapped in the most beautiful frame of a woman.

“Babe!! You’re already home. I let myself in because the icing for these cupcakes takes forever to get right.”

You flash your Colgate smile, ensnaring Shoko in your trap.

“You’re going to give Satoru and Suguru a heart attack.” Her, you’re going to give her a heart attack.

“Hmm? Why do you say that?” So non-chalant. So oblivious.

Shoko gestures to your outfit. Attempting to mirror your nonchalance. But, ironically, she can feel her face tumbling down the descending shades of red.

Genuine confusion weaves though your features and she almost screams.

“Shoko please. You know they don’t see me that way!”

Everyone, gorgeous. EVERYONE. Sees you that way.

Before she could edge another word out, the familiar hum of Limitless buzzing inward splits Shoko’s thoughts in half.

Dammit, they’re early.

“Daddy’s Home!”

Satoru charges straight at you because of course he would.

“Satoru!!!” You’re a plaything in his arms. Legs tightening around his waist.

Shoko would pay an inordinate amount of money to trade places with him.

She watches through an envy-green screen. How easily Satoru spins you and tosses you on the kitchen counter. Situating himself between your soft thighs.

How would your body bounce against his hips thrusting into you?

“You have to taste this, pretty boy.”

Tsk. He’s not THAT pretty.

Both Shoko and Suguru watch through parted lips as you shove half a cupcake into Satoru’s mouth. Neither of you miss how his tongue flicks between your fingers. Or how his hips lean closer to your barely clothed flower.

He lets out an exaggerated groan. “Fucking, perfect. I could eat your cupcake..all night.”

“You perv.”

You laugh and shove Satoru back from between your legs. Then turn in Shoko’s direction.

Silently curving your index finger forward, you beckon. Both Shoko and Suguru start toward you like well-trained, love-struck pets.

“No pouting Suguru, you’re pretty too. And up next.”

And Shoko’s shoulders sink like the child who is picked last for dodge ball teams.

Her eyes trail Suguru’s back - wishing to every God she was born with a technique allowing her to take over a host’s body.

“Me next.” He settles between your legs.

Suguru, the master of subtlety. Everyone but you can pick up on the strain in his baritone.

There’s something so painfully sensual about the way he grips both of your thighs. Your skin is so smooth, so pliant under his large hands. Waiting on your fingers to invade his mouth.

How pretty would your lips look like wrapped around his fingers? Do your cheeks hollow out when you suck on something larger?

Shoko crosses her right foot over the left. As if jamming her thighs together would stop the growing pool of lust between her legs.

“Alright babe, best for last. I have something for you too.”

Suguru takes his time pulling away from the warmth of your core. And Shoko has to strap her mind to her body to keep from sprinting at you.

Eventually, she nestles between your legs and is at eye level with your pert nipples. Immediately caught in a trance. So close to her mouth.

“Blushing so much!” Your thumb pulls Shoko’s focus back to earth.

Blushing so much because she wants to watch her best friends fuck you. Then lick your cunt clean after they’re done.

“I’m not, what’s my surprise?”

“So demanding.” You giggle. Your palm takes away Shoko’s view of your perky, hard nipples.

“Open.”

Shoko’s jaw hangs at your command. Cold glass hits her lips before the full bodied, decadent Cabernet does.

Red wine. Because she hates sweets.

You’re as thoughtful as you are beautiful and everything you do is a turn on.

“Mmmm,” Shoko hums and you gift her vision back.

“Amazing, right?” You take your own sip, maintaining eye contact.

Shoko’s eyes fall to your lips. And how you roll the wine over your tongue. Savoring each drop.

How would your tongue feel rolling around her mouth? Her neck? Her nipple? What kind of sounds would you make if her tongue rolled around your petals? Your clit? What do you taste—

“Movie time?” You break Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s daze.

All three of them scramble around you. Grabbing your cupcakes, snacks and wine to settle in on Shoko’s huge sectional couch.

You drape your body over Satoru and Suguru’s lap. A little loose limbed kitten. Shoko situates herself on the long arm of her chair.

Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything you do in the the most permanent part of her mind.

You nuzzle your cheek into Suguru’s thigh. His forearm immediately drops in front of his crotch. Undoubtedly to avoid spearing you with his manhood.

“Play with my hair, Suguru?”

“Yes. Of course.”

His free hand weaves into your hair. The soft, decadent moan you exhale sent visible shudders down their spines.

Shoko’s eyes laser to Satoru’s hands. His eyes haven’t touched the screen since the movie began. His grasp encompasses your entire back thighs. Slowly gliding them up to the delicate mounds of your ass.

“God that feels amazing.”

Satoru’s Adams Apple drags along the column of his throat. “Yeah?”

“So good.”

You deepen the arch in your back and the physical restraint Satoru imposes on himself is visible.

The only person watching the movie is you.

And the room tilts on its axis the moment you melt deeper into the boys’ hands. Their names, quiet praise, seep from your lips.

Satoru and Suguru exchange hooded gazes.

As if to commiserate about how fucking hot you are. And how it’s taking active awareness of every single muscle to not do vulgar things to you.

Not even a backward glance Shoko’s way.

Again.

Leaving Shoko out of the conversation. Again.

She angrily tosses a blanket over her lap. Frustration bubbling up her throat. Her fingers clumsily fumble with her zipper. She’s pissed. Angry. Fucking jealous.

And so turned on she might crawl out of her skin if she doesn’t touch herself this goddamn second.

Shoko’s fingers are ice cold against her warm, wet clit. It’s agonizing. How incredible the pressure feels.

You look delicious. So small between their laps. Far too tiny to handle them both.

But God it would be so hot.

It would be so fucking hot. To watch you choke all over Suguru’s cock. Slobber into his lap. All while Satoru bullies his length into your soft, dewy pussy. Helpless. Overstimulated.

Getting used like the pretty Barbie doll you are.

And the way they touch you, so brazenly, in front of her.

Like Shoko’s presence isn’t even remotely threatening. She isn’t any competition for their big hands and broad shoulders. Masculine frames. That’s why she’s just sitting there. Pathetic. Rubbing herself dumb just watching.

She would be so happy, so fucking eager to lap you clean. Pet your swollen, abused folds when they’re done with you. Hump a pillow while she sucks your nipples. You’d moan and whine and squirm under her touch.

Would you beg? Or laugh at how pitiful she is? Getting off to remnants of you when the Boys have had their way?

Shoko accidentally choking on her own drool draws almost everyone’s attention to her. The hand that was molesting her sensitive bud freezes.

Suguru’s eyes flicker back down to you, sleeping beauty.

Their coordinated touch lulled you to bed. Satoru’s eyes linger on Shoko long enough to make her simmer under his gaze. She blinks back to the movie, credits now scrolling up the screen.

How long was Shoko day dreaming?

“Let’s get her to bed.” Suguru gently pulls you onto his chest. You sleepily drape your arms around his neck.

Satoru follows close behind him into Shoko’s room. Because putting the smallest little kitten to bed is a two person job.

Shoko scrambles to zip up her pants and swipe the last of her arousal on the blanket. She gets to the doorway and watches the Boys dote over you in a way that makes them slightly more endearing.

You wake up long enough to murmur goodnight. Floating your arms in the air so the boys can bring their hugs to you. Both of them place quick pecks on your forehead. Leaving you with the cutest, most content smile on your sleepy face.

At least Suguru can hold it together. He weaves out of Shoko’s room quickly.

Satoru, however, keeps stopping along the 10 foot pace to the doorway to just stare. As if a monster from your nightmares will pop up the second he leaves you alone.

Shoko snorts, arms crossing her chest. “Put it back in your pants, yes?”

“Look who is talking.” Sly grin pulls across Satoru’s perfect, blinding teeth. Shoko could punch him right now.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ieiri. I have the fucking six eyes. What do you think I’m talking about.”

Satoru wires around Shoko’s stunned body.

He and Suguru are out of her apartment before she can bat her eyelashes 5 times.

Shoko all but sprints to the kitchen. She gulps the rest of her red wine. Something. Anything to burn Satoru’s comment out of her mind. And to put out the desperate flame between her legs.

You’re in her bed.

She’s just been masturbating watching her two best friends touch you.

One of her best friends is FULLY aware of this all.

Her hands shakenly pour another, head sized glass of Cabernet. Which is doing absolutely nothing for how lusty she feels right now. And everything to destroy her self control.

Why does she have to sit on the sidelines?

Why do they get access to you that she doesn’t?

She downs the last few drops of red wine. Storming back to her room. She’s going to confront this once and for all.

You’re strewn over her bed like a silk scarf. Rolling, tender hills of flesh. Valleys of feminine curves. Shoko grips both of your dainty wrists. Tossing you onto your back.

Sleepy groans bubble out of you. Your eyes lazily slide open. Not an ounce of concern on your face. Full of trust. Even though Shoko is glaring down at you like she wants to crawl in your skin.

“Bad dream?”

“No.” Shoko is kurt. Angry. Jealous.

“What is it?”

“I just…” Moonlight is kissing your face in the way Shoko wants to.

“T-The boys,” Your eyes flutter expectantly. Nose crinkling in fuzzy confusion.

“The-the boys always get to touch you. And pick you up. And tuck you in. And kiss you. And-and I-im just…”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Shoko hears her heart stop beating.

What did you just ask? So casually. As if you didn’t just catapult her into another dimension.

“H-huh? What?” Shoko didn’t hear you right.

There’s no way.

“I asked if you want to kiss me.” Something other than innocence lines your voice. And it pets Shoko’s flame

“I—I uh. M-. Yes.”

“So kiss me.”

Only one second of shocked hesitation passes before Shoko crashes her lips into yours.

Of course your lips taste like this. Marshmallow soft. Cotton candy sweet. Mini explosions of pleasure surge in all directions of her body.

“God,” Shoko groans, bringing the back of your head impossibly closer to her.

Melting into the soft hills and rolls of your sweet tongue. Shoko whines into your mouth like the desperate puppy she is. She’s drunk. Intoxicated. And it has nothing to do with the wine.

Do you know that?

Have you always known?

How does anyone ever make it out of their embrace with you with their wits about them?

“Baby,” you sigh into Shoko’s swollen lips.

Her hands tremble against your waist. Twitching to explore. Dying to map every inch of your body.

She lets out little, staccato moans of protest when you pull away.

“Feel better?”

Your starry eyes sparkle between Shoko’s. Sleepy, pretty smile playing on your puffy lips.

Shoko nods wordlessly. You’ve already stolen her logic and her heart. Might as well add her voice to the list.

You place a chaste kiss on Shoko’s lips before cocooning underneath the sheets.

Like you didn’t just make her fall in love.

“Goodnight, baby.”

PART. II

[lanabuckybarnes]

Missed Dates.

(I do not own any photos used, credit to original owners)

Bucky arranges a date for you both on the day he comes back from a mission, a date that he doesn't remember. Unfortunately, it's the straw that breaks the camel's back.

AN: Hello how are we all? sorry for not posting yesterday. I’ve got a limited amount of drafts and I wanna spread them before I run out of content.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Bucky done be neglecting his bf duties.

Word count: around 918 (where'd they come from?)

(Bucky ever looked at my like that I’d be on my knees)

—

Bucky has been busy with missions again. His pardon was never really a pardon, more of a we’ll forgive you if you do our dirty work. You can’t remember the last time he’d spent more than 2 weeks with you and in those 2 weeks, he was constantly being called away to meetings or other things.

The distance was becoming unbearable, you loved Bucky you really did but the time away from him was putting a wedge between you two. You’re last date night you’d dressed up all nice for him, he would be arriving back in New York around 5 pm, you had warned him about organising a date after a long mission— especially with his sleep pattern— but he brushed you off with a sweet kiss and honey-toned words.

When his heavy feet stomped into the apartment you knew he was tired, what you didn’t expect was for him to flop onto the couch and go to sleep. You checked the time, 4.45 pm, you were never making your reservation.

You heaved a sigh and swallowed the thick slew of emotions bubbling up your throat as you turned on your heel to take off the stupid dress.

That morning he’d woke up, brewed you both a coffee and said not a word about your missed date yesterday, usually he’d apologise for sleeping without so much as a hello and you told him there was no need but something about him completely glossing over the fact he hadn’t even mentioned your unsuccessful date— the first in over 2 months.

“Everything alright sweetheart?” His brows furrowed and his words cautious at the sight of your sour face, clearly you hadn’t been hiding your emotions very well, and the sound of his voice had anger washing over you

“Everything’s peachy” you spat, noticing instantly how his face turned to one of confusion, then anger.

“Hey, what’s your problem?” One of Bucky’s flaws was how defensive he got easily. You were rarely angry with him so to have you hiss at him, his guard was raised instantly.

“My problem!? I should be asking you, what’s your problem Bucky?” The words felt so foreign like they weren’t falling from your mouth. Bucky thought so too.

“I didn’t have a problem until you got all pissy, why?” He retorted, his jaw and fists clenching to suppress the urge to raise his voice.

“You wanna know why? Fine! Two fucking months we haven’t been on a date and when I get dressed up for you, after warning you about organising a date straight after you came off a plane, you sank your ass right on that couch and slept. I should’ve known Bucky I really should’ve” You stormed off to your shared bedroom, the slamming of the wood wasn’t the cause of Bucky’s flinch.

He’d forgotten all about you, you’d done your best for him and he’d completely disregarded it, he felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

He had to think of how to make it up to you.

—

An hour later there was a soft knock on the door, startling you awake. You rubbed at your sensitive eyes— you’d cried yourself to sleep because of the guilt you felt shouting at Bucky. You knew the risk of him being unable to do certain things due to missions and such was extremely high, you knew his sleep pattern was the worst leading him to stay awake days at a time, yet you still screamed at him.

You had every right to advocate for your needs but you couldn’t help that sinking feeling in your stomach.

A second knock pulled you from your trance “Hey…. Sweetheart, can I come in?” His voice was muffled by the door but you could tell he shared the same emotions as you.

“Y-yeah” you mentally cursed your hoarse throat.

Bucky entered holding a white box and a bag, his eyes looking slightly red and his shoulders slumped. Gently he took a seat next to you, far enough away that it hurt, you felt like you’d pushed him that far.

“Look I’m really sorry I forgot about yesterday, you warned me and I didn’t listen… I’ve booked us again for tomorrow if you’re up for it” he explained, flashing you his nervous smile.

“Didn’t you have-“

“I called in, let them know I was taking time off for some private reasons” he interrupted, his hand hovering over the white box he’d now placed between you on the bed. He opened it gently, his smile growing as he did. Inside was a cake, with cursive fondant.

‘I’m so sorry I’m an ass’

You couldn’t help but laugh at the decoration, your laugh drawing a chuckle from him as well

“I uhh also bought some snacks, I was thinking we could watch that movie you wanted to see” he spoke as his laughter died down, now replaced with a slight shyness.

Bucky might be a man with many flaws, yes sometimes he prioritised his work over you and he really tried to balance you both but sometimes it got too much. You had to admit though, the man truly knew the way to his woman’s heart.

“So?” He questioned, his fingers tapping his knee as his ocean blue eyes darted over your face.

“Aww Buck… I love you”

He smiled widely, relief pooling in his veins. leaning over he kissed you deeply.

“You know… you gotta make up for shouting at me” he mumbled against your lips.

This man. He was lucky he was cute.

-

THE URGE TO MAKE THIS AN ANGST AHHHH.

You guys are soo lucky I can’t write angst. I hope you enjoyed my 5am thoughts xx

[mononijikayu]

honeymoon — gojo satoru.

He grins. “We’ll see!” he replies, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Now, how about we start this honeymoon properly? I was thinking of a little walk along the Seine, maybe a café stop or two……” You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.” “But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, oral (male and female receiving), pet names (baby, wifey....), love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, intoxication, partying, slice of life, domestic life, family, honeymoon, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of alcohol consumption, depiction of being drunk, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of being drunk, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! satoru, wife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.5k words

NOTE: when i was plotting, i really thought about how i never made an explicit thing for us and them, so this is an extension of this along with my other things. i also included the end, because it was just something i think about. how would satoru gojo explain to his child how he was made? anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!! i love you <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

u s and t h e m

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══════════════════

THIS WAS A LOT, EVEN FOR HIM. Two years of marriage, and you were finally going on a honeymoon. It was a journey that had been delayed for so long, almost forgotten amid the chaos of life and the expectations that weighed heavily on Gojo Satoru as the clan leader.

From the beginning, Satoru had refused to follow the traditional expectations—refused to parade you like some prize on display for the men in the clan. On your wedding night, instead of the grand celebrations and rituals everyone had expected, there had been a quiet understanding between the two of you.

Back then, you and Satoru were far from being romantically inclined. The marriage had been more of an alliance, an arrangement to fulfill the duties both of you bore. He hadn’t wanted to make you uncomfortable, and you had appreciated his consideration, even if it left a lingering sense of uncertainty between you.

But time had worked its magic, slowly and subtly. You had grown closer, finding comfort and familiarity in each other's presence. The first kiss had been tentative, almost accidental, but it had opened the door to something more profound. Each kiss after that became less about caution and more about the quiet desire that had started to blossom between you.

Now, you stood together at the threshold of something new. You had been the one to bring it up, gently, cautiously. You told him you were ready for the next step, ready to explore the possibilities that had once seemed so distant. Satoru had listened, his usual playful demeanor tempered by something more serious, more uncertain.

For all his bravado and confidence, you could see the nervousness in his eyes, the slight hesitation that had become rare in the man who seemed unshakable. This was new for him too, a path neither of you had walked before, and the weight of it was not lost on him.

As you packed for the trip, you could feel the unspoken tension between you both, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Satoru hovered nearby, throwing casual remarks your way, but there was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t ignore.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he finally asked, his gaze intense as he watched you carefully fold the last of your clothes into the suitcase.

You met his eyes, seeing the vulnerability he rarely showed. “I’m sure, you know?” you said, your voice steady. “But we don’t have to rush anything. We’ll take it at our own pace.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You always know how to keep me grounded,” he said, his tone lightening.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before. “We’ll be okay, Satoru,” you reassured him. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, holding you close. “Yeah, we have.” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with you.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by the quiet confidence that whatever came next, you would face it together. This trip, this honeymoon, was just another step in a journey that was uniquely yours, one that you were ready to take with him by your side.

The morning of the trip arrives with a quiet hum of excitement and a nervous energy that fills the air. Satoru, always so composed, is now anything but. He paces the living room, hands running through his snowy white hair, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed by a deep-seated anxiety. For once, the great Satoru Gojo—the man who could face curses and calamity without a flicker of fear seems utterly and completely lost.

“What if I mess this up?” he mutters to himself, barely noticing the presence of Megumi, Tsumiki, and your mother as they watch him from the doorway. “What if she realizes this was a mistake? What if I just do the worst and I—”

Your mother steps forward first, her soft, reassuring voice cutting through his frantic rambling. “Satoru,” she says gently, a calm smile on her lips. “You need to breathe. You’re going to be fine.”

He glances at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. “But… What if I’m not? What if I do something wrong? What if—”

Megumi, who had been quietly observing from the side, sighs and steps closer. “You’re overthinking again, it’s really annoying.” he says, his tone blunt but not unkind. “She chose you, Gojo–san. And she’s still here. That’s not going to change just because you’re nervous about this trip.”

Satoru pauses, considering the words, his brow furrowed. “But what if—”

“Gojo–san.” Tsumiki interrupts, her voice softer than Megumi’s but just as firm. “You love her, right?”

He blinks, as if the question is absurd. “Of course I do!” he answers immediately, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I love her more than anything.”

“Then trust her.” Tsumiki says simply, with her beaming smile. “Trust that she loves you too. Trust that she understands.”

Your mother nods, her hand reaching out to touch his arm gently. “She knows you, Satoru. She knows your flaws, your strengths… and she loves you anyway. Just be yourself. That’s all she wants.”

Satoru takes a deep breath, his shoulders still tense but beginning to relax under their calming words. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up, you know?” he admits, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to lose her. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Megumi, always the quiet anchor in the storm that was Satoru’s life, steps even closer. “You won’t.” he says with quiet certainty. “You’re both figuring this out together. It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying this. She wants to see you happy, Gojo–san. And I think… you need to see that too.”

Satoru nods slowly, his breath evening out as he absorbs their words. He straightens up, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture, but now tempered with something softer, more genuine.

“Okay….okay.” he murmurs, a small smile forming. “Okay. I can do this.”

Your mother squeezes his arm one last time, her smile warm and encouraging. “You already are, Satoru. Now go! The two of you need to make some great memories. And don’t forget to have fun.”

He laughs, a little shakily, but it’s a real laugh, the kind that lights up his face. “Yeah, fun… I think I remember how to do that, mother!” he teases, and they all chuckle.

As they head back to their respective rooms in the house, Gojo Satoru stands alone for a moment, taking a deep breath. He feels lighter, as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

The anxiety is still there, but it’s manageable now, a small flutter in his chest rather than a crushing force. He loves you too much to let fear get in the way. He loves you enough to take this step, to trust in the bond you’ve built together, one small moment at a time.

When he finally comes to find you, finally ready and dressed for the airport. He couldn’t help but just stare. You were so beautiful. And you chose him, to love him like this and bless him with beauty like this. Somehow, there’s a new steadiness in his gaze, a renewed sense of purpose. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and you can feel the resolve in his touch. You smiled at him, squeezing back.

“I’m ready to go.” he says softly, his blue eyes searching for yours. “Ready to do this, with you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “Then let’s go, Satoru. Let’s make this ours.”

And with that, you both step forward—toward whatever the future holds, side by side, ready to face it together.

══════════════════

IT WAS A LONG FLIGHT, AND HE COULDN’T SLEEP. The plane touched down in the city of Paris, the city bathed in the soft light of an early evening. Gojo Satoru’s firm fingers remain intertwined with yours as you both step out into the bustling airport, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that has become second nature to him.

He’s still a little on edge, that was certain. You can tell from the way his eyes dart around, the smallest twitch of his lips betraying his usual calm. But he’s here, and that matters more than anything.

He had taken time off, a long time, much to the frustration of the higher-ups and the clan elders who had protested and argued about duty and obligations. Yet Satoru had been unyielding, for once using his influence not for some mission or jujutsu-related endeavor, but for something that mattered far more to him—you.

Satoru seems more relaxed now, leaning back in the seat, one arm casually draped over your shoulders. “I still can’t believe I managed to take this much time off.” he muses aloud, a small smile on his lips. “I think they’re having a meltdown back at the school. But, honestly? Worth it.”

You chuckle. “Are you going to get in trouble for this?” you ask, a little worried despite yourself.

He snorts. “Let them try,” he says with a wink. “They can’t exactly do much to the strongest sorcerer in the world, can they?”

His arrogance, though familiar, is softened by the way he looks at you, his gaze filled with an affection that makes your cheeks warm. “Besides, wifey….” he continues. “If it means I get to see you smile like that, I’d take a whole year off.”

You shake your head, amused. “That might be a bit much, even for you, Satoru.”

He grins. “We’ll see!” he replies, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Now, how about we start this honeymoon properly? I was thinking of a little walk along the Seine, maybe a café stop or two……”

You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.”

“But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?” 

Nothing more was talked about after that. He was right, if he was being honest. You two have been married for a while now and Gojo Satoru never really took any holidays unless you guys needed him for important school dates or to spend time with you on the weekends. And you supposed you understood, because you were like that too before you took a long break from being a Jujutsu sorcerer. 

Now you supposed, your husband Satoru seems lighter, his usual goofy, excited smile finally returning. You liked him like this, you think. Even then when you first met him, he had a really nice smile. And you wanted to keep him this way. Smiling and happy. Because he looked the most beautiful like that.

 “So, wifey…..” he says, glancing over at you with a playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. “Where to first, madame Gojo? The Seine or the cafe?”

The way he says it, with a comically exaggerated French accent, makes you laugh joyously. “You’ve really been practicing, mon amour?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He laughs, the sound bright and carefree. “I’ve been preparing as always!” he corrects, “Wouldn’t it make it the perfect trip if it was hassle free by speaking French? Of course, only the best for my beloved, after all.” 

His words carried a mixture of sincerity and that playful confidence you had grown so fond of, causing your heart to skip a beat. The joy that shimmered in his eyes was contagious, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. With a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned into the moment. 

“Then let’s enjoy a walk to the Seine river and then go to the café,” you said softly.

“Oh? That sounds like a plan!” Satoru responded with his signature energy, his grin wide and carefree. 

As the two of you ventured out into the crisp evening air, the world seemed to blur into the background. His hand held yours firmly, fingers intertwined as if they’d always belonged there. Every step along the Seine felt like something out of a dream.

The golden lights of Paris danced on the water’s surface, flickering like they were playing just for you. You caught Satoru sneaking glances at the city around him—his eyes bright and full of wonder as he took in the reflection of lights on the river, the charming hum of the city enveloping you both.

What captivated him the most, though, wasn’t the sights of Paris, but you. You felt his gaze linger every time you smiled at the simple things: a street musician playing a gentle tune, the comforting scent of pastries that filled the air. He marveled at the joy you found in these little moments, and somehow, you felt even more connected to him. With each passing second, it was like you were experiencing the city together, seeing it through each other's eyes.

There were no words needed. Satoru’s presence—steady, warm—was more than enough. As you walked, it felt as though time had paused, and all that existed was the quiet beauty of the night, the sound of your footsteps, and the feeling of his hand in yours.

As the night wears on, your husband insists on buying you a flower from a street vendor, presenting it to you with a flourish and an exaggerated bow that makes you laugh. You catch him watching you more than he watches the sights, his eyes full of a softness that you’ve rarely seen before, as if he’s trying to memorize every moment, every expression on your face.

Later, you find a small café tucked away on a quiet street. Your lovely Satoru orders in perfect French, much to the amusement of the waiter. You think that the Frenchman was delighted at the thought of someone speaking the language, but the accent you supposed was still not enough. Still, you think his pretty face made him more endearing. 

The two of you sit outside to enjoy the lovely glow of the streetlights, sharing a dessert and sipping on your drinks, your chairs pulled close together. You got an espresso and your husband got a really sweet iced caramel macchiato, with a pain au chocolat and a chocolate cake on the side.

“I’ve never seen you this relaxed, you know?” you comment softly, noticing the way his shoulders have finally lost their tension.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “I’ve never had a reason to be either, well…not until recently. Especially with you.” he admits. “Being with you… it makes everything else seem less important.”

You reach out, placing your hand over his. “Thank you for this, Satoru.” you say quietly. “For taking this time. For making me feel like I’m worth all of it.”

He turns his hand over, squeezing yours. “You’re worth more than that, wifey.” he replies, his voice low and earnest. “You’re worth everything to me.”

For a moment, the world seems to slow, and it’s just the two of you, sitting together in a little café in Paris, a city full of life and love. The future seems bright, and the worries of the past fade away, replaced by the simple joy of being here, together.

As the night grows deeper, Satoru leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re happy?” he asks softly, as if seeking reassurance.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.” you whisper back.

His smile widens, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. “Good.” he murmurs. “Because I plan to keep you that way, no matter what.”

And in that moment, under the Parisian sky, you know he means every word.

The days in Paris begin to blur together, a soft blend of golden light, laughter, and the endless discovery of each other in a new place. You wake each morning to the sound of Satoru's humming, his voice light and carefree as he attempts a tune he’s probably heard in some old movie. He looks so at peace here, his usual edges softened, a smile almost always playing on his lips.

Your first full day is filled with exploration. You both decide to take things slow, meandering through the narrow streets, Satoru’s hand warm in yours. He insists on trying every pastry you come across, from croissants to pain au chocolat, and he buys them in excess, delighting in your shared bites and the way your face lights up with every taste. 

At some point, you find yourselves at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, the iconic structure towering above you. Satoru looks up, his sunglasses perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the midday sun. “So, do we do the tourist thing?” he asks, grinning.

You laugh, nodding. “Why not? We’re here, aren’t we?”

He pulls you along, his excitement infectious as you both make your way to the elevator. The ride up is filled with a mix of awe and a little bit of playful bickering. Satoru teases you about your slight fear of heights, and you mock him for pretending to be calm when you can feel the tension in his grip on the rail.

At the top, the view is breathtaking. Paris stretches out beneath you like a painting—rooftops, winding streets, the Seine glittering in the distance. Satoru stands behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Look….” he murmurs in your ear. “All of this… and you’re still the best thing I’ve seen today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re so cheesy, Satoru.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. “Only for you.”

As you gaze out at the city, you feel his heart beating against your back, steady and strong. It’s moments like this that make you realize just how far you’ve come with him—from the careful, tentative steps of your early marriage to the unspoken trust and affection that now bloom between you. The nervousness that lingered in both of you is slowly fading, replaced by something deeper, something real.

Later, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourselves wandering into a small park. The air is cooler, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Satoru pulls you toward a bench, sitting down and tugging you onto his lap. He’s always been tactile, always needed that physical connection, and you’ve come to find comfort in it too.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes softening in the fading light. “You know,” he starts, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head, curious. “That’s new for you.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you. “Ha-ha. Very funny.” he quips, but there’s a fondness in his voice. “No, really. I’ve been thinking about how… how different everything feels now. How much I want this… us, to be real. Not just an arrangement or a convenience.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. “It already is real, Satoru.” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He nods, his expression earnest. “I know. But I want more. I want… all of you. Your happiness,  your worries, your dreams… everything. I want you to know that I’m here. Fully, completely.”

For a moment, you’re lost in his gaze, the sincerity in his words sinking in. “I do know, you know?” you say softly. “And I’m here too. I’ve always been.”

He smiles, a genuine, radiant smile that makes your heart swell. “Good.” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Because I’ve got big plans for us, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what kind of plans might those be?”

He grins, that playful light back in his eyes. “Well, I was thinking… maybe a little house somewhere quiet, where we can have lazy mornings and late nights, and I can spend every day annoying you with my presence. Lots of space for Tsumiki and Megumi. For….for more kids, maybe.”

You laugh, the sound bright and free. “Sounds like a dream.” you tease.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “It is, isn’t it?” he whispers against your mouth. “My dream. Our dream.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in his arms under the soft glow of the Parisian twilight, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ll face it together, with love and laughter and all the beautiful, messy moments in between.

══════════════════

BEFORE LONG, THEY WERE INTO THE FUN. The night falls deeper, and you find yourselves in a cozy, dimly lit jazz bar on the quieter side of the city. The music is soft and sultry, a saxophone weaving its way through the smoky air. You’ve already had a few drinks, and while you’re feeling pleasantly light, Satoru—who rarely drinks at all—has decided tonight is an exception.

He raises his glass, clinking it gently against yours, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “To us!” he toasts, his voice already carrying that playful slur that makes your heart flutter.

“To us!” you echo, and take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

The band starts up a livelier tune, something with a beat that makes your foot tap against the floor. Satoru grins, setting down his glass with a flourish. “Come on, wifey!” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you up,.“Get up! Come on, let’s dance.”

You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet, but you let him lead you to the small, crowded dance floor. He spins you around with a dramatic flair, earning a few amused glances from the other patrons, but you don’t care. Tonight, it’s just the two of you, and the rest of the world feels miles away.

Satoru moves with an unexpected grace, his movements loose and free. He’s not a bad dancer—in fact, he’s surprisingly good, his body swaying in rhythm with the music. You let yourself be pulled close, your hands resting on his shoulders as he guides you through the steps, his laughter bright and infectious.

“You’re actually good at this, Satoru.” you tease, your head spinning slightly, not just from the drinks but from the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the room.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I have many hidden talents, always!” he whispers, his tone low and teasing. “But this, wifey….” he continues, his hands sliding down to rest at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “This is my favorite one.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, and Satoru’s grin widens. The two of you continue dancing, moving in sync, the music carrying you along, your bodies pressed close, swaying with the rhythm. The alcohol has made you both bolder, and you feel his hands tighten on your waist, his touch firm yet gentle.

Your heart races as his face draws closer, his lips brushing your ear. “You know, wifey….” he murmurs, his voice low, “I don’t usually do this—drinking and dancing like an idiot.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know you don’t.” you reply softly, your hands moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “But I’m glad you’re doing it with me.”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your cheek. “Me too.”

And then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you—a deep, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. His mouth is warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget where you are, lost in the sensation of his lips, his hands, the way he’s pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

You kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he groans softly, his grip on you tightening. The world around you blurs, and it’s just the two of you, kissing like you’re the only people in the universe. His hands slide up your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.

“God, you taste good,” he mutters against your mouth, his voice husky, and you feel a surge of heat pool in your stomach. You press yourself closer to him, your body molding against his, and his breath hitches, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“Satoru, baby.” you whisper, your voice breathy, and he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your back, his touch growing bolder with every passing second. You can feel his heart pounding against yours, his breath hot and fast, and your own pulse quickens in response.

“Let’s get out of here, wifey.” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with desire.

You nod, your breath coming in short, excited bursts. “Yeah….let’s go.” you whisper back, feeling the same burning need coursing through you.

He grabs your hand, his grip firm and steady, and you both make a quick exit from the bar, laughter bubbling between you as you stumble into the cool night air. The streets of Paris are quiet now, the city settling into the late hours, but you hardly notice or rather, you could scarcely care. You were too far gone in cloud nine to care.

Your husband Satoru pulls you close again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity, and you’re lost in him once more, the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

You barely make it back to the hotel, your kisses growing more heated, more desperate, with each step. By the time you reach your room, Satoru’s hands are tangled in your hair, his lips moving down your neck, and you’re breathless with want, your fingers tugging at his shirt.

He fumbles with the key, cursing under his breath, and you laugh, breathless, helping him steady his hands. When the door finally swings open, he pulls you inside, kicking it shut behind you, and his mouth is on yours again, hot and demanding.

You push him back against the wall, your hands roaming his chest, and he lets out a low, pleased hum, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, sliding up your sides, making you shiver. “I’ve wanted this, wifey.” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “ I just wanted you so bad… for so long.”

Your response is a quiet moan as his lips find yours again, his hands pulling you even closer, and you know, in this moment, that this is exactly where you want to be—wrapped up in his arms, feeling his heartbeat against yours, letting the world outside fade away until it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, in Paris, under the spell of the night.

The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn, and the air is thick with the heat of your bodies. Satoru’s breath comes out in ragged gasps, his head thrown back against the pillows, his hair splayed out in a mess of white strands. He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his knuckles white with the force, and his chest rises and falls with every sharp inhale.

“God……..” he groans, voice low and breathless, the sound of it echoing in the small space. His eyes are half-lidded, darkened with lust, but there’s a softness there too, a look of wonder as he gazes down at you.

You move against him with purpose, your mouth warm and soft, sliding up and down his length with a rhythm that has his hips bucking up slightly, desperate for more. Your tongue swirls around him, and he gasps, the sound breaking into a quiet moan, his hands reaching for you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“Feels so good, wifey.” he slurs, his voice thick and heavy with pleasure. “Fuck… you’re so perfect.” He can barely keep his eyes open, his head rolling back against the pillow, his body taut with tension, the pleasure building in waves that crash over him again and again.

You hum softly, the vibration sending a shiver through him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh, right there….” he gasps, his voice breaking. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

You don’t. You keep going, moving with a deliberate slowness that has him trembling beneath you, his entire body responding to every flick of your tongue, every gentle scrape of your teeth. He’s never felt like this—so completely undone, so out of control. And yet he’s never felt more alive, more connected, more in love than he does right now, with you.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, and he looks at you, his eyes searching yours. “I—” he starts, but his voice catches, and he swallows hard, trying to steady himself. “I love you, baby.” he whispers, the words spilling out of him in a rush, as if he can’t keep them in any longer.

You pause for just a second, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away. There’s so much there—desire, adoration, fear, and a kind of raw, aching need that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Then you smile, just a little, your lips curling around him, and you take him in deeper, drawing a ragged moan from his throat. He bucks up again, his grip on the sheets tightening as he feels that familiar coil of heat tightening in his stomach, building and building with every movement, every sensation.

“Ah… I can’t—” he chokes out, his breath hitching, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

And then he’s gone, his head tipping back, a guttural moan tearing from his lips as he comes undone, the pleasure crashing over him in a wave so intense he feels like he might just shatter. His whole body tenses, his hips jerking up as he spills into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as the world blurs around him.

For a moment, everything is silent, save for the sound of his heavy breathing, his chest heaving with the effort. He feels like he’s floating, his body weightless, his mind blank except for the overwhelming sensation of you, your warmth, your touch, your love.

When he finally comes back to himself, he looks down at you, his eyes still hazy, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Holy shit.” he breathes out, his voice shaky, and he lets out a weak laugh, his fingers still tangled in your hair. “That… that was incredible.”

You lean up, crawling up his body to press a kiss to his lips, and he kisses you back, slow and sweet, his hand cupping your cheek as if he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs against your mouth, his other hand trailing down your back, pulling you closer.

You smile against his lips, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, the way he’s still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release. “I think we’re just getting started, aren’t we?” you whisper, your voice low and teasing.

He grins, his eyes bright with excitement and affection. “Oh, I hope so.” he replies, his voice filled with promise, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

And as he pulls you back down into another kiss, deep and slow, you feel it too—the certainty that whatever comes next, you’re ready for it. Together.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… Tonight is all about you."

You shiver at his words, a thrill running down your spine. His hands slide down your sides, settling on your hips, and he shifts you gently, guiding you onto your back. He hovers over you, his body warm and solid against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire palpable in the air between you.

He takes his time, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his mouth hot and soft as he moves lower, tasting your skin. Every kiss sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath catching in your throat as his mouth finds all the places that make you sigh, that make you arch against him.

His hands are everywhere—gentle yet insistent, roaming over your body, touching, caressing, exploring. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, his lips brushing over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, until you’re gasping, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

“Please, Satoru…” you whisper, your voice a soft, needy plea.

He smiles against your skin, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Patience, baby.” he murmurs, his voice teasing but thick with need. “I want to make this last… make you feel good.”

He continues his descent, his kisses growing more heated, more purposeful. His mouth moves lower still, down your stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, and you feel your breath hitch, your body trembling with anticipation. His hands part your thighs, his touch firm but gentle, and you feel your heart start to race, your pulse pounding in your ears.

He glances up at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with a mixture of mischief and adoration. “Just relax, baby.” he whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you gasp. “Let your loving husband take care of you.”

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue moving with a slow, deliberate precision that has you moaning his name, your hips lifting off the bed as pleasure sparks through you like wildfire.

He doesn’t rush—he takes his time, tasting you, teasing you, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you in place as he brings you to the brink over and over again.

You’re lost in the sensation, your head falling back against the pillows, your fingers gripping the sheets as he works you over with his mouth, his tongue moving in ways that make your toes curl, that send you spiraling into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

“Satoru, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking, and he hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

“Mm, that’s it.” he murmurs, his voice muffled but full of satisfaction. “Let go for me… I want to feel you come.”

His words are like a command, and you feel yourself falling, tumbling over the edge as pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body arching against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him against you as you come, crying out his name.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, his mouth relentless, his tongue flicking and curling, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trembling with aftershocks.

“Again, baby.” he whispers, his voice dark and filled with want. “I want to hear you scream my name again.”

And you do—again and again. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you a moment to recover before he’s building you up again, his fingers joining his mouth, pressing into you with a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart. His thumb finds that perfect spot, rubbing circles that make your vision blur, and you’re gone again, crying out, your body clenching around him, your mind blank with pleasure.

You lose count of how many times he makes you come, each one more intense than the last, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a storm, pulling you deeper and deeper into a sea of sensation. You’re breathless, your body spent, and yet he keeps going, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you, to make you feel as cherished and adored as he possibly can.

When you finally collapse against the sheets, your body trembling, your skin slick with sweat, he crawls up to meet you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, tender kiss, his hands gentle as they cradle your face.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers against your mouth, his voice filled with awe, his breath warm against your lips. “I could spend the rest of my life making you feel like this.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love, and you pull him close, kissing him deeply, letting him know without words that you feel the same. Because in this moment, with him, you’ve never felt more alive, more loved, more complete.

Satoru’s breath hitches when he feels you shift beneath him, the soft, unintentional grind of your hips against his sending a jolt of electricity straight through him. He bites back a moan, his fingers tightening on your hips instinctively, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he tries to maintain some semblance of control.

God, the way you affect him—how effortlessly you make his heart race, his breath catch, his body respond like this—it’s like you have a power over him that goes far beyond anything he’s ever known. He’s already hard, painfully so, and the thin fabric of his uniform pants does little to hide his need, the friction almost too much to bear.

“S-Shit…..” he mutters, his voice low and strained, and he swallows hard, trying to catch his breath. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to move like that, hadn’t expected the sheer intensity of his reaction.

He wants to touch you, to hold you, to be buried deep inside you, but he’s almost afraid to move, afraid that if he does, he’ll lose what little control he has left.

You shift again, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a broken moan escaping his lips as he presses against you, feeling your warmth, your softness, even through the layers of fabric. It’s too much, and yet not enough, and he feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“God, baby.” he breathes out, his voice trembling, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to hold himself back. “You have no idea… what you do to me.”

He’s desperate, his body aching with need, his mind a haze of lust and longing, but he’s also so full of love, of adoration, that it takes his breath away. He wants you—he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything—but he also wants to savor this, to make it last, to make sure you feel just as good as he does.

He grinds against you again, more deliberately this time, and he lets out a low, shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “I’m… I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I can’t… I can’t stop myself.”

His hands move to your waist, fingers splaying out over your skin, and he begins to move against you, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. He can feel you beneath him, feel the heat of your body, the way you respond to his every touch, his every movement, and it drives him wild.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you with a hunger that matches the desperation in his movements, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting you, devouring you. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips, and he tugs you closer, pulling you against him, needing more, needing everything.

“I… I need you. Need you so bad.” he murmurs against your lips, his voice breaking, raw and filled with longing. “I need to feel you… all of you.”

He shifts his weight slightly, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he struggles to free himself. He’s too impatient, too needy, and he lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers trembling as he finally manages to shove his pants down just enough to release his aching length.

He’s rock-hard, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum, and he groans again as he presses against you, the heat of your body sending another wave of pleasure crashing through him.

“Please, baby.” he whispers, his voice desperate, his hips grinding against you, “I can’t… I can’t wait anymore.”

You arch against him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, and he moans, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the head of his cock brush against your entrance.

He’s trembling, his whole body taut with need, and he can barely think, barely breathe, all he knows is that he wants you, needs you, more than anything. He presses forward slowly, carefully, his breath catching in his throat as he feels you envelop him, inch by inch, the tight, wet heat of you driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck… you feel… so good....” he groans, his hips pressing forward, sliding deeper inside you, and he can’t stop the shudder that runs through him, the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside you, of being this close, this connected.

He starts with deliberate slowness, his thrusts shallow and gentle, as if testing the boundaries of your shared connection. His breath catches, and you can feel the tension in his body, how he's holding back, savoring the sensation of being so close to you.

The warmth of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together so seamlessly, sends a shiver through you. Your legs instinctively tighten around him, pulling him deeper, and that's when you hear it—a low, guttural growl from deep within his chest.

The sound is raw, primal, a reflection of his desire, and it sends a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His restraint begins to crumble. He thrusts harder, his hips snapping against yours with growing intensity, and each movement feels more urgent, more desperate. His hands, once tender on your waist, now grip you with fervor, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

The pace quickens, his need spilling out in every motion. He’s relentless, each thrust filled with a hunger to make you feel the same pleasure that's overtaking him. You can hear the labored breaths escaping his lips, see the fire in his eyes as they lock onto yours. His voice, hoarse and trembling with emotion, breaks the silence between you.

“God… I love you.” he gasps, barely able to form the words between ragged breaths. His rhythm becomes frenzied, driven by the overwhelming sensation of being with you in this moment.

“I love you… so much… so fucking much,” he groans, his voice thick with passion. Each declaration is a pulse of raw emotion, his need to show you, to let you feel every ounce of his love, pouring out of him.

His movements, once careful and measured, have become wild and uncontrollable, driven by the depth of his feelings. Every thrust is a a call to his desire, every gasp a confession of how deeply he’s fallen for you.

His pace becomes frantic, a blend of raw need and overwhelming affection. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the intensity of his desire matching your own.

His hands roam from your waist to your hips, gripping tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let go—afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

The sound of your bodies moving together fills the air, the room heavy with heat and tension. You feel the build-up of pleasure rising within you, matching the urgency of his thrusts.

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he looks at you, as if his every feeling, his every thought, is laid bare in this moment.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, each one catching as his need grows more intense. The sensation of you wrapped around him, the way your body responds to his every touch, only fuels him further.

He lowers his head to press his lips against your neck, kissing a trail from your collarbone up to your jaw, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I can't… get enough of you," he murmurs against your skin, his voice shaky, consumed by the pleasure coursing through him. "You're everything… everything I need."

His words are laced with both desperation and adoration, the weight of his feelings crashing over him. With each thrust, you can feel how close he is to the edge, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this moment with you, to savor every second.

His hands grip your thighs now, pulling you even closer, the friction between you igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every nerve.

The pressure inside you builds, coiling tighter and tighter as he moves. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body arching into him, and he groans in response, the sound reverberating deep within his chest.

It’s as if the world outside of this moment ceases to exist. All you can feel is him—his heat, his breath, the weight of his love for you driving him to move faster, harder.

“I’m so close, baby.” he gasps, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold on just a little longer, his body trembling with restraint. His eyes meet yours again, and the look in them is nothing short of devotion. “I need you… I need you to come with me.”

And with those words, everything inside you unravels. The release hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you in wave after wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he lets out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go, the force of his climax overwhelming him.

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick with the afterglow of what you’ve just shared. His body rests against yours, both of you spent, your hearts beating in sync as you catch your breath.

══════════════════

epilogue

In the cozy living room of your home, Gojo Satoru sat on the floor with your son, Satoshi, sprawled out in front of him, surrounded by toys and colorful blocks.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Satoru was trying to entertain Satoshi with a game of building blocks, but the little boy’s curiosity took an unexpected turn.

Satoshi looked up at Satoru, his big, innocent eyes full of questions. “Papa, papa!” he asked, “How was ‘toshi born?”

Satoru’s eyes widened, and he froze mid-block placement, the toy car in his hand almost slipping out. He glanced around, searching for a way to divert the conversation, but Satoshi was looking at him with unwavering expectation.

Satoru cleared his throat, his mind racing back to that unforgettable honeymoon in Paris and maybe a little after that…..you know, there’s been a lot and he just….he doesn’t know how and where things had become a bit… complicated. He doesn’t really count.

“Well, my little dawn…baby, you see…” Satoru began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “A lot of it is just…. it’s a bit of a… long story.”

Satoshi tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “A long story? Like when we go to Grandma’s house?”

Satoru nodded, his mind still floundering for the right words. “Exactly like that, but, um, with more… magic.”

Satoshi’s eyes widened, and he leaned closer. “Magic? Did you use your special powers?”

Satoru scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if there was a way to explain this that didn’t involve any, ahem, explicit details. “Well, it’s more like… a magical moment, little dawn.” he said, smiling nervously. “Because well….magic is magic!”

Satoshi looked thoughtful, then blinked. “Was it like when you make the cookies disappear?”

Satoru’s face turned a shade of red, and he tried to stifle a laugh. He doesn’t know how he was supposed to do this at all. “Uh, not exactly. More like… a really happy time when mama and papa were together, and, uh, we decided to have more family for big brother Megumi and big sister Tsumiki, you know?”

Satoshi nodded slowly, his tiny brow furrowing as he considered this. “So, you made cookies disappear and that’s how I got here?”

Satoru chuckled, a little relieved that Satoshi seemed satisfied with the vague explanation. “Sort of, yes. It’s a special kind of magic that’s, um, a bit different from making cookies disappear.”

Satoshi pondered this for a moment, then brightened. “Okay! Can we build a magic castle now?”

Satoru laughed, feeling a wave of relief. “Absolutely, let’s build the biggest magic castle ever!”

As Satoru helped Satoshi with the blocks, he couldn’t help but think that he had successfully dodged a bullet—or at least, he hoped he had. He glanced at the photo of you on the mantel and grinned, knowing that despite the complexities of parenthood, there were some things best left to the imagination.

When you arrived home, the late afternoon light was still spilling into the living room, casting a golden hue over the scene. You found Satoru and Satoshi surrounded by a sprawling fortress of colorful blocks, the little boy’s face alight with triumph as he declared his castle complete.

“Mama!” Satoshi called out, running over to greet you with his usual enthusiasm. “Look at the magic castle Papa and I built!”

You smiled, bending down to give him a hug. “It’s beautiful, Satoshi! I’m so proud of you.”

Satoru stood up, brushing the dust off his pants with a sheepish grin. He looked slightly relieved to see you, and he met your eyes with a hint of nervousness. You looked at him with curious eyes as he tried to take a deep breath. It was as though he was preparing himself to tell you something.

“Hey, baby.” you said, raising an eyebrow at him as you moved towards the kitchen. “How was your day with Satoshi?”

Satoru followed you, his expression a mix of amusement and apprehension. “It was good, but we had a little… conversation.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? About what?”

Satoru scratched the back of his neck, his face turning a bit red. “Well, Satoshi asked me how he was born….well, like not born. How…how he was made?”

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening as you looked at him. “Oh, really? And how did you handle that?”

Satoru let out a nervous chuckle. “I tried to explain it with… magic. I told him it was like a special kind of magic and that it happened when mama and papa decided to have a family.”

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Did he buy that?”

Satoru shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sort of. He thought it was like making cookies disappear, so I went along with it.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head.You couldn’t stop to the point you were coughing. Satoru blushed, even his ears were red. “Cookies? That’s one way to put it.”

Satoru looked relieved to see you find the humor in the situation. “Yeah, I guess. He seemed satisfied, so I think we dodged a bullet.”

You walked over to Satoshi, who was now engrossed in a new block creation. You crouched down next to him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Satoshi, did papa tell you a magic story?”

Satoshi nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. “Yes! And we built a magic castle! Papa said it’s like magic cookies!”

You glanced at Satoru, who was trying to suppress a grin. “Well, that sounds like a fun story.”

Satoru walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I think we managed to keep things light, but I’m glad you’re home to handle the next round of questions.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. And next time, maybe we’ll keep the magic cookies out of the explanation.”

Satoru grinned, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Deal. Thanks for saving me from my own magical misadventures.”

You both chuckled, watching as Satoshi continued his block building, blissfully unaware of the parental confusion that had preceded his masterpiece.

[elllisaaa]

in ur last svt post (which made me fold btw) you mentioned you love doing bf thoughts (and we love reading them!!) so i’m gonna be the one to do it… any dirty bf!wonwoo headcanons sweetie? 🫣

not me dropping two wonwoo asks in one day like i’m not hansol biased i’m gonna run away 🏃‍♀️ he’s so husband material tho (getting back into my svt phase is fun 🙂‍↕️)

lmaoo honestly it's valid being whipped for wonwoo, i am too even though i'm a seokmin and chan girlie (hansol is coming at me these days though...)

BF!WONWOO who's a silent lover, but who loves you so much that everyone can see who smitten by you he is.

another member of seventeen that i think is a very good listener. wonwoo is always ready to listen to you when you need to talk, be that because something funny happened to you or because you had a bad day. and he's also really good at giving you advice when you have a problem. he strikes me as someone who's emotionally smart, so it isn't difficult for him to know that you're sad without you having to tell hims. sometimes he'll notice that you're not doing well and he will prepare you a little snack and deliver it with a kiss and a sweet "i love you, i'm here if you need to talk." that almost makes you tear up from how caring he is. also, wonwoo's hugs must feel incredibly good, like being engulfed in a warm bubble of love that's so soothing you immediately relax in his embrace. you could literally spend your whole life hugging him because it's genuinely the best feeling in the world.

"it's okay darling, i'm here now. everything is going to be alright."

wonwoo would love to play video games with you. it's good if you are already into it, but it would be even better if you don't because he would love to teach you how to play his favourite games. he would even use it as an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he's trying to show you how to play. from there, you would often play together, but it's also not rare for you to simply sit in wonwoo's lap and watch him play, or take a nap there, lulled to sleep by his breathing and heartbeat. one of his favourite ways to spend a date night at home with you is playing board games. you'd pick out one or two games together, make yourself some tea and prepare snacks and then you'll spend your night playing together. the members often joke about how the two of you are like an old couple but you don't care because what matters is that you're having fun during these game nights. also, wonwoo loves to just stay at home with you, all cozy in your matching pajamas and getting to see you all relaxed. he obviously loves it when you're dressing up when the two of you are going out, but you're the most beautiful to him with only a big beautiful smile on your face.

"let's just watch a movie tonight, i don't want to see other people, only you."

he's adamant on reminding you of how beautiful you are every single day. and that's the way he says it that makes you blush - like it's the most natural thing ever and that it's obvious. however, when it's your turn to praise wonwoo, he gets shy and bashful, and you literally have to fight him to get him to accept the compliment. but wonwoo loves your insistence on adoring him and he loves the attention - he's down bad for you, but it's good to know that you're down bad for him as well. he would often take photos of you without you noticing when he thinks you look particularly pretty. he won't show these pictures to you, but he has folder of them on his phone and on his computer too, and he looks at them when he's away from you and that he misses you. wonwoo would put all these secret photos into a pretty album he made and decorated himself, and he would gift it to you for your anniversary. overall, he would gift you a lot of mindful things like these, and you keep all of them in a little box under your bed.

"when did you take this one nonu ?" - "when we went to the botanical garden, you were so pretty that day."

BF!WONWOO who's a service top and who loves to please you, but who can also get a little bit mean when he wants to.

wonwoo definitely loves cockwarming with you. when you sit on his lap while he's playing video games, it's not impossible that he'll end up pushing your panties to the side and slipping his cock inside of you, not moving at all. he just loves the intimacy of it, how much you trust him and relax into his touch immediately. but it's impossible to not get hard when your pussy feels this wet and this warm, nor when you're sometimes clenching around him. wonwoo usually gives up pretty quickly, because he loves the feeling as much as you. most of the time, he would grip your hips and help you drop down on his cock slowly until the both of you cum. but when he's feeling more needy, he would bend you over his desk and fuck you rough from behind until you're screaming his name. but sometimes, you can stay like this for a long time, even managing to fall asleep because it feels so warm and safe to be so close to him. it's the way you feel so comfortable around him that gets him going mostly.

"just sit on my cock for while baby, then i'll fuck you, okay ?"

overall, wonwoo just loves to please you in every way he can. he's inflexible about foreplay because he loves to have you cumming at least once before he fucks you - his girl should get as much orgasms as possible because you only deserve the best. he woul often keep his glasses on while eating you out, because even if it's the most comfortable for him, he knows how crazy you go when he looks up at you through the fogged lenses and how hot you think he is when he has them on. wonwoo prefers positions where he can see your face as he fucks you, so missionary is a must with him. he loves to see your face contort when you're close to the edge, and he loves to watch you as he brings you to your orgasm - your pretty expressions and the sounds you make often enough to trigger his own release. again, he loves how close he can be to you in this position, chest and forehead pressed against each other's, whispering praises and love confessions against your lips while he ruts his hips into you deep.

"you're so pretty darling… so fucking pretty like this."

despite him being very romantic, he also knows how much you like it when he shows you how strong he is. wonwoo would definitely manhandle you into bending over for him if that's what you want - and he's not gonna lie by saying that he doesn't like it when you become all putty in his hands because he's holding your hands firmly behind your back. it's quite good for his ego too to hear you gush about how attractive he is, how hot his strength and his muscles are. wonwoo also uses it to his advantage when you've been a little tease or that he's frustrated. all these hours spent at the gym are worth it when it allows him to hold you down against the mattress while he pounds into you until you're crying out his name and that tears are running down your face. of course, he's always mindful of any signs of discomfort when he's rougher, but you both love it when wonwoo doesn't hold back and ruins you. it feels rewarding to know that he can make his girl scream his name so loud that the neighbors complain the next day.

"i'm not gonna let you go until you're dripping baby, i need to have you again."

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 6

6th — love bite/ marking/ vampire!AU, Oscar Piastri

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

A/n: I'm sorry I must have hit the wrong button and got this deleted.

Prompt: A story about Oscar as a vampire. He has a young maid who has a secret crush on him. One day to save him she lets him drink his blood but unexpectedly the night that follows while he is making love to a girl he can hear her thoughts, and let’s be honest those thoughts are very filthy. 

—--------------------------------------------

Oscar had always been a vampire of restraint. Centuries ago, he mastered the art of control. Control over his hunger, his desires, and the fragile line he walked between predator and protector. He lived alone in his mansion, surrounded by a sparse staff who knew little of his true nature. One among them was Alice, his young maid, who always moved about the house with a silent, doe-eyed reverence. Oscar had hired Alice about a year ago when he found out that upkeeping his large mansion was too much to do alone.

Alice had been over the moon getting the job. She was provided with her own bedroom, with an en-suite. She was also allowed to use the smaller maid’s kitchen at the back of the house. 

Oscar greatly enjoyed her company and adored her. She was a bright, bubbly young girl with a heart of gold. She had a laid-back attitude towards life, which Oscar really liked about her. It took a lot to get her wound up or angry, in fact, he had never seen her even slightly angry or pissed off. She was attentive to his needs and always cheered him up if he was having a bad day.

Alice was smitten with her master. He was very kind to her, and always made sure she had whatever she needed along with an amazing wage every month. He was easy to talk to; they always had a laugh together. But over the course of the year, she found herself more and more in Oscar’s company during dinner in the main kitchen. Alice had a secret, a crush that lingered beneath her every glance, woven into every word she spoke to him. She adored Oscar in ways she never dared admit, not even to herself. The way his eyes held centuries of knowledge, his dark hair falling effortlessly across his brow, and his very presence dominated a room without effort—it all left her breathless. But to him, she was merely a servant.

That night, however, changed everything.

Oscar had been wounded, a rare encounter with another vampire who sought to challenge his power. Blood dripped from his wounds, his strength fading faster than it should. Alice had stumbled upon him in the parlor, half-conscious and in need of blood, the only thing that could heal him. She knew the risk, knew that offering her blood was more than an act of servitude—it was an invitation to something much deeper. But she couldn't bear to see him suffer.

“I can help you,” Alice whispered, her hands trembling as she approached him. Her pulse quickened at the thought, a strange mix of fear and desire thrumming through her veins.

Oscar’s eyes, gleaming with hunger and vulnerability, met hers. "Alice, no... you don’t understand."

But she did. Her neck was exposed, and before he could protest further, she pressed it against his lips. Oscar's instinct took over. He bit into her flesh, drinking deeply. The warmth of her blood flowed through him like fire, reigniting the strength he had lost. But there was something different about Alice’s blood—something intoxicating, something that pulled him closer to her than he ever imagined.

He pulled back, gasping, as the wound healed almost instantly. Alice collapsed into his arms, weak but alive. There was a flicker of something in her eyes as she gazed at him, her lips parted as though she wanted to say more. But the words never came. Exhaustion claimed her, and Oscar carried her to her quarters, ensuring her safety before retreating to his own.

Later night a few days after, Oscar found himself in the company of another—a woman he had been drawn to for the past few days, her presence a distraction from the chaos of his existence. They made love under the dim glow of light, her breathless moans filling the room. Yet, as he sank into the moment, something strange began to happen.

Thoughts. Not his own, but hers—no, not the woman beneath him, but Alice’s.

They flooded his mind, sharp and vivid, breaking into his consciousness. And they weren’t innocent thoughts. They were... filthy.

“I wonder if he knows how long I’ve wanted him.”“I’d let him take me—anyway he wants—if he only asked.”“I’d do anything for him... anything.”

Oscar’s breath caught. The connection—Alice’s blood—had done more than heal him. It had forged a bond between them, one that allowed him to hear her innermost desires, the ones she buried beneath her soft smiles and lowered eyes. He could hear every heated, lust-filled thought as though she were whispering them into his ear.

Beneath him, the woman sensed his distraction, her hands pulling at him to keep him present. But Oscar’s mind was somewhere else—on Alice, on her secret longings that now pulsed in his mind like a dangerous temptation.

“I want to feel his hands on me.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to push the thoughts away, but they only grew stronger, more insistent. Alice’s fantasies unravelled in his mind—images of him, of what she wanted him to do to her, how she wanted to surrender to him in every possible way. She was so innocent on the surface, but beneath, her thoughts were anything but.

Oscar’s control, the centuries of restraint he had built, began to waver. He could hear her even now, miles away in the safety of her own bed, likely still weak from the blood loss. She was thinking of him—no, desiring him. And now he knew it all.

As the woman beneath him moaned, Oscar found himself pulling away, the weight of Alice’s desires drowning out everything else. His breath was ragged, his eyes clouded with conflict.

How could he face her now, knowing the depth of her secret obsession? And worse—how could he ignore the dangerous pull of his own growing hunger for her?

The night had begun with him taking her blood to save himself. But now, it was her thoughts, her wanton desires, that consumed him, threatening to undo the very restraint he had fought so hard to maintain.

As the woman beneath him moaned, Oscar’s mind was elsewhere, consumed by the rush of Alice’s hidden fantasies. She, who had seemed so innocent and reserved, was secretly obsessed with him, her thoughts growing filthier by the second. His centuries of restraint faltered as he found himself drawn to her in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The bond between them was becoming dangerous, and Oscar knew that what began with saving his life could lead to a passion that would consume them both. Alice, once the shy maid, was now the centre of Oscar's growing hunger, her desire and submission pulling him into a darker, more dangerous realm of his own making. The night that began with a single sip of blood would be the start of something much deeper and far more uncontrollable. 

In the days that followed, Oscar couldn’t escape the pull of Alice’s thoughts. They invaded his mind when he least expected it—while he paced through the empty halls of the mansion, while he fed, and especially in the quiet moments before dawn when the world went still. Alice’s desires played on a loop, her fantasies vivid, graphic, and relentless. What had once been hidden behind her modest demeanour was now fully exposed to him, and the more he tried to block it out, the louder it became.

He’d catch glimpses of her throughout the day, going about her duties, unaware of the storm her thoughts were causing inside him. But now, every brush of her hand against his or even her quiet presence in a room sent his senses into overdrive. She was no longer just Alice the maid; she had become a living embodiment of temptation. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her blood—the way it had tasted, how it had awakened something deep and primal inside him.

One evening, after a long stretch of fighting against the bond, Oscar decided he needed answers. He found Alice in the kitchen, her hands busy scrubbing a table, lost in her own world. She didn’t notice him at first, but when she looked up, her eyes widened, caught off guard by his intense gaze. There was something different about him—something dangerous. He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate.

“You… you’ve been thinking of me,” he said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

Alice froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea how much he knew, but the way he was looking at her made her knees weak. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

But Oscar wasn’t fooled. He reached out, brushing his fingers against her wrist, and in that instant, he heard her thoughts again—clear as day.

“God, I want him to touch me… to take me right here…”

Her mind was an open book now, and she couldn’t hide from him anymore. The connection between them had become too powerful, the blood bond tying them together in ways neither of them had anticipated. Oscar could feel her desire as though it were his own, and it took everything in him not to give in to the temptation that was pulsing between them.

“You’ve wanted this,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “For so long.”

Alice’s breath hitched, her body betraying her with the way it leaned into his touch, craving the contact she had only dreamed of. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I’ve wanted you… always.”

The confession sent a surge of heat through Oscar. His restraint was unravelling fast. He could hear her heart racing, and smell the intoxicating scent of her blood coursing beneath her skin. Every fibre of his being wanted to sink his teeth into her again, to claim her fully, not just as a servant but as something much more.

Oscar's hand slid up Alice's side, his touch possessive and hungry. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her body betraying how much she craved this, craved him. With a low, animalistic sound, he sank his fangs into her neck, piercing deep.

A moan escaped Alice's lips as Oscar began to drink, her body arching into him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. Every pull of his mouth sent a wave of pleasure through her, the bond between them amplifying every sensation. As he drank, Oscar's hand moved lower, finding the hem of Alice's skirt. He pushed it up roughly, his cold fingers tracing patterns on her bare thigh. “Oscar,” she whimpered, her head lolling to the side as he continued to drink from her.”

His thumb circled her slowly, in rhythm with his drinking. Alice's breathing grew shallower, her hips bucking against his hand. She was drowning in sensation, the line between pain and pleasure blurring. “Oscar, please,” she gasped, her voice hoarse with need.”

With a growl, Oscar tore his mouth from her neck and stood up, lifting Alice onto the kitchen counter. He shoved her skirt up around her waist and buried his face between her legs, his mouth devouring her soaked panties. He licked and sucked at her through the thin fabric, the taste of her arousal making him dizzy with lust. Alice cried out, her hands fisting in his hair. In a flash, Oscar ripped her panties off and threw them aside.

Oscar looked up at Alice from between her thighs, his eyes glinting with dark intent. " Spread your legs wider," he commanded, his voice low and dominating. "I want to taste all of you."

Alice hesitantly spread her thighs wider, exposing herself fully to him. Oscar growled approvingly, burying his face back against her heat. He licked and sucked, his hands gripping her thighs painfully tight. "You're so sweet, Alice," he muttered against her. ​​His fingers joined his mouth, slipping inside her as he suckled her most sensitive spot. Alice's hips bucked against his face, her hands scrambling for purchase on the cold countertop. "Oscar, I... I can't... it's too much..."

"You can take it," Oscar said firmly, his fingers pumping into her as his mouth suckled hard. "Come for me, Alice. Show me how you like my touch." His words were like a trigger, sending her over the edge.

Alice threw her head back, a scream tearing from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Oscar continued to lap at her, his fingers curling inside her to draw out the sensation. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice hoarse with desire. 

Alice's eyes fluttered open, gaze meeting Oscar's as he finally pulled away from her dripping pussy. He stood up, his face and hands covered in her juices. "Now, it's my turn," he said, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "Undo my pants," he ordered, his eyes boring into hers. Alice hesitantly slid off the counter, her legs shaking from her release. She reached out trembling hands and fumbled with his belt, her eyes flicking up to his as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Oscar's erection sprang free, hard and throbbing. He grabbed Alice's hair, forcing her to her knees. "Worship it," he demanded, his grip tightening. "Show me how grateful you are for my attention." He rubbed the swollen head of his cock against her lips, smearing them with precum. As Alice timidly stuck out her tongue to taste him, Oscar's hold on her hair gentled. He let out a low groan as her tongue caressed him, her hesitancy making the act all the more intimate. "Like that, my Alice,"

He guided her head forward, helping her take him deeper. "Use your hands too," he encouraged, his voice lower, less demanding. Alice tentatively reached out, wrapping her small hand around the base of him. She looked up at him as she took him deeper, her eyes watering slightly.

Oscar's breath hitched as Alice's hands and mouth worked him over. He threaded his fingers through her hair, gently guiding her pace. "That's it, my sweet," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. "You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth." 

"Can I... can I touch myself while I do this?" Alice asked, her voice muffled by him. Oscar's eyes darkened at her request. "Yes, touch yourself," he encouraged, his voice hoarse. "I want to feel you come undone while you pleasure me." Alice slid her hand between her thighs, touching herself in rhythm with her bobbing head. The dual sensations sent Oscar over the edge. "Alice... I'm going to..."

Alice nodded, her eyes widening as she felt the first hot spurts against her tongue. Oscar gripped her hair tightly, his hips jerking forward as he finished in her mouth. When he finally pulled back, Alice licked her lips, swallowing every last drop. "Good girl," 

He praised, his chest heaving. Alice sat back on her heels, her face flushed and her hands shaking slightly. Oscar reached out and gently pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "You did so well, my love," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. He pulled her up, kissing her deeply as she tasted herself on his lips. "Now it's my turn to make you feel good," he said, guiding her to the bed. He lay down, patting his chest. "Climb on, my love."

Alice straddled him, positioning his hardening member at her entrance. She looked down at him, her heart racing with excitement and affection. Oscar smiled up at her, his eyes warm with love and possession. "Ride me, Alice," he commanded softly. "Make yourself feel good on my cock.” Alice sank down onto him, throwing her head back in pleasure as he filled and stretched her. She began to move, finding a rhythm. Oscar's hands gripped her hips, guiding her motions. "That's it, my love," he praised, watching her breasts bounce as she rode him.

Leaning forward, Oscar captured one of her bouncing breasts in his mouth, suckling as Alice continued to ride him. Her hands braced on his chest, her movements growing faster, more desperate. He released her breast, looking up at her. "Touch yourself again, my love."

Alice obeyed, sliding her free hand between her thighs to rub her clit in time with her movements on his lap. The sensation was overwhelming, and she threw her head back, crying out as she reached her climax. Oscar helped her, pressing his thumb against her clit as she came hard on his lap. Her limbs went slack as she slumped forward, spent from her release. Oscar flipped their positions so that he was on top. He grabbed her legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he thrust into her hard, his own release building. "Good girl, Alice," Oscar praised, his voice tight as she milked him with her inner muscles. With a few more thrusts, he joined her in release, burying his face in her cleavage as they clung to each other, spent and satisfied. "You are now my equals, Alice,"

Taglist: @formula1-motogpfan @iamafootballfanmiasanmia @arian-directioner @annimausi @mythicalmaven @lucycowr @hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119

[nerdy-novelist017]

Omg hi!!!🧚🏻‍♀️

I just wanted to pop by and tell you how much I LOVE your writing and content, makes me kick my feet reading about Benny and Bunny😫🙂‍↔️I was just wondering if mayhaps you’d write something in which Bunny gets mad at Benny for something and gives him the cold shoulder hehe. You mentioned in your most recent installment of them how she’s done that when pissed at him and I just thought it’d be so interesting to see an upset Bunny and groveling Benny😏perhaps involving the topic of jealousy or miscommunication. Have a good day/evening and feel free to ignore my yapping!!!🙈🐇

Thank you so much for your kind words! 🥹You're so sweet!!! I could never ignore your yapping, friend! Sorry this took so long to post but I wanted to get it right since this request is so stinking cute! I was going to break this up into two parts because I got a little carried away but I figured you guys probably don't mind the longer posts ;) Please let me know your thoughts on this as I love reading your comments! Hope you enjoy! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist 🐰

Word Count- 3.4k+

Love, Lids, and Lessons (Benny Cross X Shy!Reader)

Listen, Benny fucked up on a near daily basis. He’s by no means perfect and there was a lot that you overlook because you loved him and he’s still the best man you’d ever met. However, there were times where Benny pissed you off so bad that you simply couldn't excuse him. This happened to be one of those times.

You were standing beside him at the pool table during what happened to be a pretty intense moment of a game that Benny happened to be losing pretty badly. It was the third time you’d approached him, asking to leave. It wasn’t even that late but you had wanted to go because you planned to get up early the next morning to meet your girlfriends for a breakfast date. He’d told you that the two of you could leave soon, after he finished his beer. And then he told you after he finished his game. Then that game became the next game. And the current game which he happened to be losing and maybe it was that his temper with the razzing he was receiving from the members who watched the game but he just didn’t want to have to tell you one more time that you would both be leaving soon. You tugged on his sleeve again and he just said it, without a filter, without thinking. 

“Bunny, you’re being naggy.” 

That was it. Just four words that would cause him more trouble than he even realized. He didn’t mean it in a rude way; He was just trying to tell you what you were doing was annoying to him. He said way worse than that to the boys and they never reacted the way you did. 

Your mouth dropped open in shock, driven speechless by his words. He made a shrugging motion to you that said What? But the low whistled that emitted from Cal on the other side of the pool table did nothing to deescalate the embarrassment he could see bubbling in your face. You snapped your mouth shut, brows pinching together as you glanced at the others who heard. Not many, just Cal, Johnny, Betty and a few others. It was enough. When your gaze found him again there was an undeniable dark cloud in your eyes and he wanted to apologize. But you turned and walked away before he could say anything else. 

“Oh, Benny. . .” Johnny muttered with a grimace but Benny was too caught up in the taunting of the other members around the table to hear him. So he let you storm off, figuring you’d have cooled down by the time his game was over. And shortly after, his game ended (He lost, though he didn’t really find himself caring about that, not with the image of your hurt expression looping in his mind) and he said goodbye to the boys and went to find you. Only . . . you were gone. 

He found Gail who told him you had left with Kathy. He clenched his jaw and nodded. You rarely ever left with someone else, you liked to ride home with Benny. He thought maybe you were just tired and Kathy was probably leaving at the same time but a little voice in the back of his head told him it was more to it than that. He tried to ignore the way the ride home was quiet without you on the back. And when he walked through the door, you were not in the entryway where you normally stood waiting for him. No, you weren’t even in the kitchen where he’d sometimes find you during a midnight craving. Something uncomfortable gripped at his heart and he stood in the kitchen for a long time, trying to come to terms with the fact that you probably left. 

Trudging up the stairs to your bedroom, his heart skipped a beat when he saw your form laying in the bed, back facing him. He resisted the urge to go to you, sensing the way your shoulders stiffened that you were still awake. He undressed slowly, taking the time to decide what he wanted to say to you. But even as he pulled back the covers and crawled in next to you, no words ever formed in his mouth. Instead, he tried a different tactic. He pressed himself up against your body, sliding his hand over your waist, traveling it up to your breast as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

You brushed his hand away. “I’m not in the mood, Benny.”

His hand moved down to your hips instead to take it in another direction but you gripped his wrist and moved it back to his side. “I’m serious. I’m tired”

Okay, you were upset about what he’d said. He sighed and rolled onto his back, moving back to his side of the bed. He waited a few more seconds to see if you’d follow him like you normally did, but you remained steadfast in your spot so he reached over to the bedside lamp and switched it off, the room filling with darkness. He laid in that darkness for a long time, contemplating what to say, what to do. 

When Benny woke the next morning and his hand drifted over to you, he found your side of the bed empty. He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was still early and you almost never woke up before he did. And if you did, you just wanted to snuggle with him in bed. With an odd feeling in the pit of his gut, he got up and dressed, seeking you out. He found you in the kitchen, wearing an apron with little flowers embroidered on the fabric. You stood at the island, frosting cupcakes that he didn’t know you planned on taking with you. 

“Mornin’,” he said as he approached, making his way over to make a cup of coffee. You only hummed in response. He turned back around to face you, leaning against the opposite countertop, feeling as though the space between you was as wide as an ocean. He watched you for a moment as you set down the cupcake you were working on, the delicate desert now freshly adorned with baby pink frosting. You reached forward to start on the next one and that’s when he spoke again. “You need help with that?” 

“No,” you replied, avoiding eye-contact. A heavy silence filled the kitchen as he sipped meekly at his coffee and you finished frosting the cupcakes. It’d be better to just rip off the band-aid, he decided. He wasn’t going to go his whole day pretending he didn’t know that you were giving him your traditional cold-shoulder response. So he said, “You still mad about last night?”

Your eyes flashed up to his for just a moment. “What do you think, Benny?” 

“About what I said? C’mon . . .” He didn’t even mean it in a rude way! Sometimes you were so sensitive and he truly didn’t understand you. Johnny had told him once that women were a completely different creature than them. And as Benny watched you furiously frost your cupcakes, he really felt the impact of that statement.  “I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was a little drunk and–”

“Oh you were drunk?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, in that case, I’ll just let you get away with whatever you want when you’re drunk. Won’t let anything affect me at all!”

Hmm. He didn’t think that’s what you were gonna say to that. Benny hated it when you verbally put him in a corner like this, didn’t let him get away with his half-assed apologies that never actually use the phrase ‘I’m sorry.’ It always made him get defensive, made his temper flare and he’d end up doing more damage than good nearly every time.

“You were naggin’ and you know it. I don’t know if it was because you wanted to go home or if you were jealous that someone else had my attention for a moment and you didn’t–”

“Jealous?” The word echoed off the cupboards. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bunny–” he groaned but you cut him off. 

“Don’t Bunny me right now,” you griped, eyes narrowing as you began placing the cupcakes in the portable carrier he had surprised you with for your birthday a few months ago. “Jealous? You honestly think I was jealous? Or are you just sayin’ that because you want to get a rise out of me?”

“Well, I’m just tryin to say–” he stopped short as he caught your sharp gaze. “I just. . . Don’t you think you’re overreacting about this?”

Your mouth formed a thin line, jaw clenching. You stared at him for a few agonizingly long moments before you shook your head, muttering, “You–” 

Benny was dying to know what you were about to say but only observed as you removed your apron, folded it neatly and placed it back in the drawer before you grabbed your portable tray and left the kitchen. Like a moth to flame, he followed you as you went to the door, pausing only to slide your feet into the kitten heels you had lined up at the baseboard. Without saying another word, you opened the door and left. But he trailed after you, standing on the porch, he wordlessly watched as you descended the stairs and walked down the stone pathway to the white picket fencing you had always talked about and opened the little gate. 

“Damn thing,” you grumbled under your breath as you fought with the broken hinge of the gate to close it properly behind you, the sound squeaking obnoxiously. 

“When are you comin’ back?” he hollered after you, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Later.” Was your vague answer before you got into your car and left Benny still standing on the porch, front door ajar and eyes narrowed. 

******

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Benny stood to his full height and took a step back to take in the shiny new hinge on the gate he just installed. He tried opening and closing it a few times, admiring the way it worked soundlessly. Good as new, he thought. Fixing physical things like door hinges and motorcycle parts, those were easy. Benny was good with his hands, he could tinker around and fix just about anything he set his mind to. But fixing emotional things. . . those were not so easy for Benny. Apologies were rare and he’s never one to throw them out like confetti as you so often did. You apologized too much and he’s told you that you shouldn’t apologize for half the things you do. 

He’d had a lot of time to think about what happened and his mood certainly shifted more than once during his front gate project. At first, mild annoyance because what he said to you was hardly an insult. Then, it might have been due to the sun beating down on him while he worked, but genuine anger replaced the annoyance because you were so damn sensitive and there were times he felt he had to walk on eggshells around you. But the anger quickly fizzled out when he thought about how your sensitivity was what made you special. It was what helped you be so empathetic, so caring toward everyone you came across. And by the time he’d finished fixing the gate, the only feeling that smothered him was a painfully present regret. Regret for what he had said, but also for what he hadn’t. An apology was something you deserved, but he didn’t give it to you, not in an appropriate way. 

So when you came home, hours later, he watched from the living room window as your car pulled in front of the house. You exited the car, and he almost held his breath as you opened the gate, taking a moment to open and close it a few times. You definitely noticed he’d fixed it. Good, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear yet.

You came inside and it was clear that you were still upset by the way you moved. He could see your shoulder stiffen when you noticed him there, could see the pouty lip of yours pull into a slight frown. You hardly spoke to each other the rest of the day. You didn’t mention the gate and he didn’t bring it up. 

******

The next morning Benny was up before you, as usual. At least that was back to normal. He went downstairs and started a pot of coffee as he got ready for work. He grabbed his lunchbox, preparing to make himself a lunch for work when he stopped short, noticing that there was already a lunch packed in there, complete with one of your pink-frosted cupcakes. His heart squeezed at the realization that you still packed him a lunch, something you did every workday for him, even though you were upset with him. You . . . the sweet creature that he still didn’t completely understand. And he needed to do something.

Fortunately Benny had another trick up his sleeve, and playing dirty didn’t matter to him when it came to getting your attention again. 

******

You didn’t sleep well last night, laying awake all night with a heartsick frown, wishing nothing more than for the man who lay just within an arm's reach from you to actually comfort you – in a way that you wanted to be comforted. And tears threatened to spill when you realized, even just for a moment, you wished he could be someone who was a bit more empathetic, a bit more compatible to you. This wasn’t the worst thing he’s said and you’ve had your fights over much worse, but in all your time together, this was the first time you’d ever had that thought. Maybe it was because this was the first time you had both ignored it, both choosing to go to bed angry and upset rather than to work through it. The storm in your heart still surged on, albeit a bit more due to sadness rather than anger, as you slipped on your babydoll pink robe over your nightgown. You tried not to think about Benny at all as you put your hair up in rollers and applied your makeup for the day. You couldn’t hide in the bedroom all day unfortunately, so you traipsed downstairs, bare feet padding softly against each step until you entered the kitchen where you found Benny sitting at one of the island chairs, the daily paper spread out on the countertop before him. 

He looked up when he heard you. “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you parroted as you went to the pantry to grab out your ingredients to start breakfast. You started your tea, grabbing the jar of honey off the shelf and a flower mug. You turned your back to Benny and started to twist the lid off the honey jar . . . only it was really stuck on there. Readjusting your hands, you gave it another go, but still it didn’t budge. Setting your jaw in place, you glanced over your shoulder at your husband who was still looking down at his newspaper. Normally, you would immediately hand something over to Benny to open for you, but you were still mad at him which meant you’ll have to go without honey in your tea. 

So instead you started making your bagel for breakfast, a go-to breakfast meal for workday mornings. Popping the bagel in the toaster, you took the homemade strawberry jam out of the fridge and frowned when you realized that lid was also screwed on extra tight too. You turned to face your partner, reluctantly asking, “Can you open this?”

He looked up at you, eyes glancing down at the jam jar and he held out his hand. “I’ll open it for you if you talk to me.”

In no mood to play his games, you rolled your eyes. “Forget it. I can do it myself.”

You turned back around, feeling his gaze burning into you as you grabbed a dish rag and placed it over the lid to get a better grip. You twisted hard, tongue darting out between your teeth as you concentrated on opening it. It seemed as though a mutant with superhuman strength had sealed this lid last – which was strange considering you were the only person in the house who ever used it. You peaked back at Benny who watched you blatantly so you stuck your chin out defiantly as you put the jar back down on the countertop. Fine, you’d just put peanut butter on your bagel instead. You scooped up the peanut butter jar, this time facing him as you twisted the lid and you nearly screamed in frustration when you felt how tightly this lid was as well. 

Wordlessly, he held out his hand across the countertop, waiting patiently as you crossed your arms, mentally debating if you could go without any of these items on your bagel.

Ding! You both glanced over as your perfectly-browned bagel popped up from the toaster. You sighed through your nose, biting your bottom lip as defeat settled in. You grabbed the jam, honey and peanut butter jars and slid them on the countertop before him. 

“Okay, fine,” you admittedly softly and watched as he made it look so effortless as he opened the lid with a satisfying pop. You muttered a quick thanks and reached for the jar but he leaned backwards, holding the jar just out of your reach. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he spoke, eyes earnestly searching your face. “What I said at the bar – about you askin’ to go home. You weren’t being naggy, I should have listened to you the first time. That was my own fault. I was just getting so caught up in that stupid game and it wasn’t even important. Not like you are. And what I said embarrassed you and that was wrong.” He rose from his seat, moving around the counter to stand before you as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his apology. Only a handful of times have you heard those words leave his mouth and you knew he never said them if he wasn’t completely meaningful. You nodded but then remembered his use of vocabulary last night. “And what you said about me bein’ jealous?”

His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I’m not apologizin’ for that because you really do confuse me sometimes, Bunny. I thought maybe you were jealous and when you stop communication’ with me, I feel even more lost than usual.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” you accepted as you crossed your arms. “But I don’t want to talk to you when I’m upset. Maybe I want you to do the talking for once.”

He furrowed his brow in thought as he looked over at the toaster. “Well, why don’t we make a promise to each other that we can go to bed angry if we want, but come morning, we talk about it over breakfast. No more putting it off for multiple days. We have to deal with it so that we can move past it.”

You considered that for a moment. “Yeah, that sounds alright.”

He took your hands in his own and dipped forward to place a soft kiss to your cheek. When he began to pull back, your hand flew up to gently encase the side of his face, holding him there as you met him halfway and kissed his lips in a physical show to prove you had accepted his apology. And if that wasn’t good enough, you whispered against his lips, “I forgive you.”

His arms circled around your waist pulling you into his lean frame in a tight hug that seemed to melt away all the stress that built between you two. 

“How did you know that I would use the honey today?” you asked with a tilt of your head, figuring he must be the reason for the right lids. 

“I didn’t. I tightened all the jars.”

“Benny!” you laughed, playfully slapping his bicep. 

He lowered his hands behind your hips, lifting you quickly onto the kitchen countertop, grinning at the squeal you let out at the sudden shift. 

“Let me make it up to you, Bunny? Please?” he begged, voice teasing but you could see the sincerity, the desperation in his ocean blue eyes.

“I’m gonna be late for work,” you giggled as he buried his face into the spot between your jaw and collarbone, that sweet spot he knew got you weak in the knees every time he placed his mouth there. “I need to leave in a few minutes.”

“You might wanna call in sick then,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed up your neck, “‘Cuz I got plans for you that’s gonna last longer than a few minutes.”

-Tag List-

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[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Sorry, but I just had a thought and I’m exhausted and don’t know if I’m going to write anymore tonight.

Just Steve holding a slight grudge against Nancy after she pretty much calls his love bullshit in the bathroom. He feels lead on, he’s slightly bitter but he knows how to be discreetly passive if he needs to be. But thing is he doesn’t have the energy in him to be passive. If this had been before the monsters, and someone who he thought was the love of his life did what Nancy did and proceeded to end up dating the guy who she said not to worry about within days after getting into a fight, he would have probably done something stupid. Probably would have ruined her locker with mean words or something like that.

He wasn’t sure what he would do, he was exhausted and couldn’t think of what used to come easy to him. Or maybe he’s grown to realize how immature that was, how it didn’t even seem all that fun to do to someone. Just thinking back to spray painting slut on the theater makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Once, he used to be the one to climb up there and spray something even worst. Now the thought made him want to throw up.

And maybe the grudge he is holding against Nancy isn’t really a grudge. Maybe he has matured to realized that the grudge he held was within himself for how fast he had fallen. For how stupid he was for thinking the girl would ever end up with him. He should have seen the signs. How she defended Jonathan even after he took non consensual photos of him and her about to have sex. Which he still felt disgusted by, his skin still crawled uncomfortably around the little creep whenever he was close by.

Though when the time comes, he realizes he was holding a grudge against Nancy. When he falls harder for someone new he realizes within minutes that something was different about this one. Instead of smacking him in the shoulder and scolding him for staring to long, Eddie would pull his hair in front of his face with bright eyes. Would do something dramatic to snap Steve out of the trance he was in. Like lick his face instead of kissing him.

That was the other thing Steve discovered. In the moments where it was just the two of them, it seemed like every other minute time would stop and Eddie would be in the same bubble as him. Lost in the same spell that Steve had tumbled into, needing to kiss the other just as much as they needed oxygen to breathe.

Nancy rarely had those moments with Steve, and they had stopped right around the time she started hanging out with Jonathan.

And Steve does hold a grudge, for how she stayed with him longer than what she had to.

Eddie made him feel in love and loved. Whenever Steve watched the other man he could barely keep his hands to himself and the best part was Eddie didn’t care. Steve could bite off Eddie’s remaining nipple and the man would still let Steve do whatever he wanted to him. Nancy never trusted Steve and never earned Steve’s trust the way Eddie did within one week of knowing each other.

Eddie was the moon and Nancy had been the sun for Steve. The sun burnt his skin and left him blistered while the moon wrapped his arms around him and rocked him to sleep every night. While Steve worried about when the sun would explode, he never had to worry about the moon disappearing for to long. It always came back, no matter what happened. Even if Steve had been an asshole.

God was Steve in love. This was it for him. And maybe at one point he had loved Nancy just as much as he did Eddie.

But now, as each day passes he only finds himself falling more in love with Eddie Munson.

He slowly comes to the conclusion that his love was and will never be bullshit.

And when he finally sits down to talk to Nancy about it, he finally gets it off his chest. What had been bugging him for almost years before falling for Eddie.

“Nancy, we were bullshit. But my love, it was all real. Maybe not as strong as it is for Ed’s but I know that if … everything wasn’t such bullshit I could have gotten there.” Steve says softly to Nancy. Shortly after she confessed she still had feelings for him. He seen this conversation coming from a mile away, especially with how many one sided sparks happened between the two of them while running for their life’s on spring break.

And as he stands up, leaving her in her own shock. Letting her process that he was with Eddie, a man. He can’t help but feel proud of himself.

He didn’t intentionally hold this grudge, but he felt as if he got back at her the healthiest way he could. By maturing and moving on. And looking down at Nancy, he could tell that she needed time to do the same. Not to be with another man or date in general, but to just grow as a person. But that was no longer his problem. His problem was currently running up the steps of the trailer with what seemed to be a moving snake.

“Hey Stevie! Look what I found.”

Steve was in love, and it wasn’t bullshit.

[daryltwdixon]

hello dear!! i dont know if your are still taking requests or not, but if do you i would really love to see you write something fluff with a drunk daryl and reader, where he totally forgot that they are dating and just start acting shy and awkward around her, i know its cliche but i really love how you write daryl and think it would be so cute to see something like that written by you😭, but i totally understand if you are busy, i hope you are having a great day!🥰

A drunk Daryl grows uncharacteristically shy around you, forgetting for a moment that you're together.

author notes: I just want to say its not v common for people who are drinking to forget who their s/o's are, but anything for you lolol, enjoy!!! x

thank you for the love!!!

The Alexandria dinner party is louder than usual, laughter spilling out into the quiet night. Someone had insisted on opening the last few bottles of wine, and you watch with amusement as Daryl, leaning against the far wall, swirls the red liquid in his glass like it’s some kind of trap.

“Never took you for a wine guy,” you tease, stepping closer. His eyes dart to yours, and the flush on his face deepens. You figure the alcohol’s working its magic, though Daryl had always been shy about these kinds of things—especially in a crowd.

“Don’t even taste right,” he mutters, setting the glass on a nearby table like it might bite him.

You grin. “Then why drink it?”

He shrugs, glancing at you sideways. The usual ease between you feels a little... off. His gaze flicks to your face, then away again, like he’s avoiding something. You tilt your head, trying to figure out what’s wrong, when his voice breaks the quiet.

“You look real nice tonight.”

The words come out low and shy, almost like he hadn’t meant to say them. You blink, surprised, but before you can respond, he fumbles to add, “Not that ya don’t always, but... I mean, yeah.”

“Daryl,” you say, trying to catch his eye. He’s looking anywhere but at you now, cheeks burning. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. But the way he shifts on his feet, the nervous way he rubs the back of his neck—it’s not like him. You step closer, studying him, until something clicks.

“Oh my god.” You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “You don’t remember, do you?”

His brows furrow, lips parting in confusion. “Remember what?”

You can’t believe it. “You’re acting like we just met or something.”

Daryl stares at you, his eyes swimming with haze, but he blinks hard, trying to piece it all together. His eyes widen slightly. “Wait... we’re—?”

“Yes, Daryl,” you say, trying to suppress another laugh. “We’re together, at least I thought so,”

The realization hits him like a brick wall. His mouth opens, then closes, and for a second he just stares at you, dumbfounded. “Shit,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “I—uh... forgot.”

“Obviously,” you tease, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “Should I be worried you’re forgetting about me already?”

“Nah,” he says quickly, his voice quiet but insistent. “Just... too much wine. ‘S all.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile too wide at how bashful he looks. The Daryl you know is rarely this unguarded, and it’s endearing. But as you watch him glance down at you—his face still flushed and his nerves practically visible—you catch something softer in his expression. His hand drifts to the back of his neck again, but this time, a crooked grin follows.

“You’re... somethin’ else,” he murmurs under his breath, almost to himself. “Must be the luckiest som' bitch,”

The words catch you off guard, and warmth blooms in your chest. “Damn right you are,” you say softly, but there’s no teasing in your tone anymore.

His lips twitch, and he finally dares to meet your gaze. “Guess I don’t mind that.”

You smirk, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The move makes him freeze for half a second before his face turns a deeper shade of red, but his hand brushes yours in a subtle, almost instinctive gesture. Even drunk, even shy, Daryl Dixon couldn’t hide how much he cared.

“C’mon,” you say, tugging lightly at his hand. “Let’s get you some water before you forget anything else."

[kifkay]

Winx & Specialists Dynamics that are so Precious to me

it makes sense that in the show, winx and their non-boyfriend specialists don’t interact much. but!! i’m very insane about codependent found families, and I want them all to love each other. so here’s my take on some tet-a-tet dynamics:

rare pairings:

Musa & Timmy: childhood frenemies. they used to go to the same middle school on Melody, and as type-A tweens do, had an intense, “you’re the only person I match myself to” kind of rivalry. they lost contact after Timmy moved away, chilled out considerably, reconnected in Alfea and had a wonderful banter-filled friendship since. because of how fast they slotted back into a friendship, some of their classmates genuinely thought they were siblings.

Tecna & Riven: got up from a rough patch. from “I dislike you but we both love Musa, so we have to be civil” to “you have more depths to you than I expected” to “now that I understand you, I can’t help but admire certain things about you” to “bitch, you are the only person who is as weird and clueless as I am, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE ARCADE AND ANNIHILATE KIDS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES”

Flora & Brandon: little sister, older brother vibes. of similar temperaments and views, they enjoy spending time over a cup of tea — talking about everything and nothing. it’s therapeutic, almost.

(no one in the group knew that Brandon and Flo were good friends. once, when the two had to team up during a mission, Bloom couldn’t even finish saying: “it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know each ot-“, before the specialist-fairy duo were re-creating the most complicated and choreographed hand shake ever. jaws were on the floor.)

Aisha & Brandon: they are sporties, and they like doing sport things together! they don’t talk aside from exchanging brief encouragements and advice while out, preferring to spend their time in companionable silence. sorta like those dads who never talk to their buddies, but somehow have the strongest and longest bonds ever?

Helia & Bloom: artist besties. Bloom drags Helia out on picnics, where they practice observational drawing (and tiktok trends that Bloom desperately wants to reenact but none of the winx are good at arts); Helia responds by taking her out to see art museums in Magix. it’s a fun dynamic of Bloom being the bubbly gold retriever, and Helia being her black cat.

Tecna & Sky: they didn’t have much of a relationship until year 4. somehow, they both got really, intensely into weaponsmithing and built a joint workshop. they found that they enjoy working alongside each other and value each other’s insights. sky goes to tecna when he needs frank, un-sugarcoated advice, and tecna accompanies sky on hikes and other spirited adventures, for “bonding activities” (because he told her she doesn’t get out of her comfort zone enough). it’s a relationship of deep mutual respect.

Sky & Stella: childhood friends. they knew each other as children and enjoyed playing together (which is how Stella also knew Brandon pre-Red Fountaine). at least, until Stella was unofficially banned from Eraklyon because shenanigans, and they lost contact. they still jokingly call each other “My Lady” and “My Lord”.

Stella & Nabu. Both are flirty and extroverted people, who enjoy the spirit of showmanship. They have a friendly rivalry going of who can fluster the villain of the week the fastest.

canon bf-gf dynamics (dating in canon, open to interpretation otherwise):

Bloom x Sky: liked each other since the first meeting; bonded over being the friend group moms. (on unrelated note: bloom gentle parents her friends, while sky goes all exasperated cig mom on his team and repeats things like: “you better go to sleep right now, or so help me Dragon I will take away your Owl pilot privileges-“)

they are not the most outwardly affectionate couple of the winx, yet they are so wordlessly devoted to each other. sky will follow bloom to the ends of all dimensions, when she gets a calling from powers as mystical as she. bloom will always believe in him and see him as his own man, unlike the many who see him only as his father’s son. they were entwined by fate, long before one had met the other; yet, there’s the trust, the respect, the faith so strong — that could have only come from friendship forged and tested by fire.

Stella and Brandon: the hottest power couple; sole reason behind 60% of all student fairies/specialists/witches queer awakening.

they banter all. the. goddamn. time. these dorks are speaking a whole different language.

they are also most comfortable in each other’s company, being able to be their genuine, less polished selves. stella and brandon are both performers bred and born, playing the roles of a noble princess and a knight. it’s nice, to have a safe reprieve from all that acting.

Aisha and Nabu. their love was one that sneaked up on them. their distance, set by a discomfort at the idea of an arranged marriage, bridged as they transitioned from being reluctant comrades to friendly rivals to unwilling friends to best friends to “if someday the moon calls you by your name, don’t be surprised — because every night I tell her about you”

Tecna and Timmy: partners in crime, ride or die, sunny faith in each other — even when the other person doesn’t believe in themself. I have a whole post about them, go read that ;)

Flora and Helia: they are so. they are. they-

icons. the most romantic couple, the one that sets the standards, the one that gives their friends advice. they are extremely attentive to each other’s needs and tender with each other’s feelings.

flora can recite helia’s poems in her sleep, and trace his drawings with her eyes closed. helia brings mielle presents every time he stops by. flora has tea with helia’s dad every other tuesday; she keeps note of every time helia and saladin are supposed to meet up, to be able to whisk helia away after and distract him from his troubles. helia knows how to care of flora’s plants, and sends her lovingly assorted gift baskets semi-regularly.

Musa and Riven. their relationship is push and pull, is joy then sorrow.

it’s all in a drag of a cigarette, in the vortex of a starless night, in the hoarse laughter. “of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?” she’ll say and smile.

“ I’m afraid we’re doomed, lover,” he’ll reply, faux-casually, and smile back. both of them will know it’s the truth.

their relationship was not built to last, not for the lack of love or try. maybe they were too similar — both headstrong, unbending, bleeding hearts. maybe they were just different enough not to understand their hurts. nevertheless, it was not built to last — but neither of them would ever bring to regret it. love prevails, no matter in what form in comes, or something like that.

[sincerelyyuu]

hidden affections • itadori yuji

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after moving to a new school, you quickly gain the affections of a mystery admirer. ➼ pairing: itadori yuji x gn!reader ➼ content/tw: sfw, secretadmirer!yuji, tooth rotting fluff, no curses au, yuji is basically a lovesick puppy and is whipped for reader ➼ wc: 2K words ➼ a/n: desperately in need of some cute yuji content! likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Growing up, there weren't many people that Yuji found interesting enough to date. People seemed to gravitate towards his friendly and outgoing personality so making friends came easy to him. Even then, there wasn’t anyone that really caught his eye. Of course, he had his preferences (Jennifer Lawrence being one of them), but no one that he considered passing the threshold of friendship with.

That is until he met you.

Nobara had mentioned a new student was transferring into their class. It was a little unexpected considering it was the middle of the school year, so he was curious as to who this person was. When you first stepped into the classroom, Yuji felt the breath knock out of his lungs.

He always thought the idea of falling in love at first sight was so cheesy and something that only happened in movies. Yet suddenly all of those love songs on the radio made sense. You were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He hadn’t realized he was staring until Nobara shoved an elbow into his side, snickering at the way his jaw snapped shut from the way it hung open. Meanwhile, you stood at the front of the class, doing your best to smile despite your nerves at all the attention on you.

“This is (y/n). They’ll be joining us for the remainder of the school year. They just moved here, so please do your best to make them feel welcome,” the sensei introduced before turning to you. “You may take a seat.”

Bowing in respect to the teacher and then once more to your new classmates, you briefly scanned the room. You decided to take a seat next to a pink haired male who waved hello enthusiastically to you, already feeling your nerves dissipate from his cheery demeanor.

“(y/n), right? I’m Itadori Yuji,” he greeted with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Itadori,” you returned his smile, pulling the supplies out of your bag to get ready for the lesson. “I like your hair. It kind of reminds me of strawberry milk.”

The words leaving your lips before you could stop them, you looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, was that weird to say?”

Yuji laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at your thoughts on his hair. “No, it’s fine. I haven’t heard that one before but thanks, I guess.”

“If you want, my friends Fushiguro, Kugisaki and I can show you around. I wouldn’t mind-, I mean, we wouldn’t mind,” he offers, quickly correcting himself and silently cursing himself for lamely stumbling over his words.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to catch it and nodded your head eagerly, “I’d like that a lot.”

Just like that, you found yourself hanging out everyday with this trio of friends who accepted you into their group with open arms. There was rarely a day where you weren’t with them, be it group study sessions in the library or outside of school going on convenience store runs. Among this group, you naturally became closest with Yuji who always made you feel welcomed.

Meanwhile for Yuji, what started as innocent interest quickly evolved into a full blown crush on you. He was drawn to your bubbly and sweet nature and like a moth to a flame, his heart followed you. He found himself thinking of you all the time, wondering about what you liked or what you were up to. Wondering if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.

It was the little things that sent his heart racing. One random day, his number two pencil had rolled off his desk. Leaning down to grab it, his hand brushed against yours feeling the soft skin of your hand against his fingers. You were a step quicker than him and grabbed the pencil first, placing it back on his desk.

“Thanks,” he expressed, doing his best to fight back the rush of heat to his face.

You merely waved him off nonchalantly in an effort to tell him not to worry about it. After that, Yuji would purposely drop his pencils often in class, timing it so that his hands would brush against yours every time. You joked with him about how clumsy he was when in reality, his hand would tremble as it yearned to hold yours.

Yuji never had a problem with expressing himself to others. However, when it came to you, it was like his brain immediately turned to mush. All of his thoughts fly out of his head the minute you're on his mind. 

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” Megumi asks him a different day. 

“What if they don’t feel the same way?” Yuji whines, plopping his head onto his folded arms on his desk. “It would be so embarrassing if they rejected me.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” his friend replies, mildly amused by the distress on Yuji’s face. “Besides, I’m surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

Raising his head, Yuji looks at him in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at them.”

Did he really? He couldn’t help it. Every time you walked into the room, it was like all he could see was you. The way your eyes light up whenever you wave hello to him. The crinkle of your nose whenever you laugh at something funny he said. Your voice dripping with honey every time you spoke to him. You were absolutely captivating to him.

“Look, I’m just saying that there are other ways to let them know your feelings,” the spiky haired teen suggested cryptically with the gears turning in Yuji’s head as he thought over his best friend’s advice.

The next day, you and Nobara were aimlessly chatting about plans for the weekend. When you walked into class, you were surprised to see a red and brown box sitting on top of your desk. Upon further inspection, you saw it was a pack of chocolate Meiji Hello Panda cookies, your favorite childhood snack.

“Whatcha’ got there, (y/n)?” Nobara asks as she throws her bag to the floor and slips into her desk beside yours.

“Cookies,” you answered and held up the box to her. “Did you see who left these here?”

The ginger shrugged, “Wasn’t from me. Is there a name?”

Taking a closer look at the box, you couldn’t find a sender name. Instead you found a tiny strawberry sticker pasted on the front. Why would someone leave you this on your desk? As if answering your thoughts, Nobara leaned in with a cheeky grin.

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer~,” she teases.

You shook your head at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. Maybe someone is just being nice?” you tried to reason with her.

“Oh, definitely. That’s exactly why I have a box of treats sitting on my desk, too,” Nobara sarcastically retorts and gestures to her empty desk. 

You shoved her shoulder playfully with a laugh, opening the box and shaking a couple of the shortbread pandas into her awaiting hand. Hearing a chair screech on your opposite side, you turned to see Yuji looking at you with expecting eyes.

“Hi, Itadori!” you greeted, holding out the box to him. “Want some? Someone really sweet left these for me on my desk today.”

“O-Oh, really? That was nice of them,” he stammered in response.

He stretched out his hand and let you drop a couple of the pieces onto his palm, crumpling the convenience store receipt with the name of the snack inside of his hoodie pocket.

Satisfied with how the first time went, Yuji started leaving anonymous tokens of affection at your desk every day. A single stem of your favorite flower (which he found out through Nobara who had a field day when he told her of his crush on you). A bag of candies as sweet as you. A cute bunny keychain that he won at the local arcade (and spent way too much money to get) that reminded him of you. Each time he would wake up extra early to make sure he was the first one to get to class to leave his little gift. 

Feeling a bit braver, Yuji also began writing love notes to you to slip into your locker. Just little one liners onto torn notebook paper of things he wished he could say to you but didn’t have the courage to say to your face.

“Seeing your smile is enough to brighten my whole day.”

“You are my sunshine on my darkest days.”

“Do you understand how amazing you are?”

With every passing day, you wanted so badly to find out who your secret admirer was. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start to develop a crush on them back. How could you not when they were clearly trying hard to convey their feelings for you in the most endearing way?

The only clue you had was that same strawberry sticker that accompanied each gift and note. You did feel guilty that this mystery person was spending all this time and money on you without getting anything in return. The curiosity was starting to become unbearable.

So, you made up your mind. You were going to find out who this person was whether they were ready or not.

Waking up just as the sun was rising, you hurriedly got ready and made your way to school. Walking through the empty hallways, you stopped just as you were a step away from the door of your homeroom, careful to avoid being seen through the class windows. Your heart accelerated once you heard footsteps inside the classroom. They were already here. Inhaling deeply to steady your rapid heartbeat, you slid open the door.

“...Itadori?” you gasped.

The tall teen looked at you with wide eyes, unceremoniously dropping the adorable shiba dog plushie on your desk. He felt a panic rise in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be here yet. What were you doing here? 

Wracking his brain on what to say, he ultimately sighed. Turning to face you, he rubbed the back of his head bashfully, “You finally caught me. It was me.”

You felt your heart grow warm at finally matching a face to all the gifts and the love notes. To think it was your friend Yuji this entire time. As you studied the male, your eyes gravitated up to his strawberry pink locks. 

Strawberry. The strawberry sticker. You finally connected the dots. It was his way of telling you it was him and you didn’t even realize it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned softly. Walking up to the tense male, you saw him gulp as you stopped in front of him, looking so nervous and utterly adorable.

Yuji gave a half hearted laugh before replying, “Would you think I’m lame if I told you I was afraid to?"

"You just make me so nervous. I really like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but I didn’t know how to say it without ruining our friendship. I wanted to give you an out in case you didn’t feel the same.”

Picking up the plushie, he tentatively held it out to you. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the way you accepted it and held it to your chest affectionately.

“Yuji,” you gently beamed up at him. “Can I call you that?”

Yuji swore he died and went to heaven upon hearing you say his first name. Cheeks flushing, he nodded fervently. He felt his breath hitch when you leaned up to press a kiss to his reddening cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” your voice full of gratitude as you stared into his fawn colored eyes. “For the record, I really like you, too.”

Feeling a sudden wave of confidence, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally take you on a date?” he asks, his cheeks aching from how widely he was smiling. 

Hiding your face behind the plushie in your hands, you peered up through your lashes at him with twinkling eyes. Too cute, Yuji thought.

“Just say the word and I’ll be there,” you promised.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 6

James Potter x Reader

Summary: Your secret admirer is not so secret anymore…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, idiots in love, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and presents femininely, James is head over heels in love, quiet!reader, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.6K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A cool air occupied the Astronomy Tower, gusts of gentle breeze slipping in and out. A picnic blanket lined the floor, visible under the soft glow of an assortment of candles lit in the room. On it sat a basket of food, sweets, and a bouquet of flowers with your name on it.

It was all going smoothly, in fact, James would argue it was perfect. He had planned this night years ago, making the first date comfortable and private but still a solid display of just how much he’s willing to give you.

Wearing his crisp button down tucked into some black slacks, messy hair somewhat managed with a comb, and a bubbling feeling of nerves and excitement, James stood at the top of the stairs and waited.

The soft press of heels to concrete echoed up the staircase, slowly approaching the top of the tower. You rounded the final corner, immediately beaming at the boy stood waiting for you. Your subtle makeup shined in the candlelight as your dress fit you in all the right ways.

“He’ll go feral when he sees you,” Charlie had joked when you were getting dressed.

She might have been right.

James’ heart caught in his throat, holding out an arm for you to grasp as he escorted you across the short distance to the blanket. “You look so amazing, I mean…you’re just so perfect,” he praised, gaze tracing your figure like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “Thank you, Jamie, so do you,” you grinned in reply, standing close and peering up at the bashful boy in front of you.

He helped you to the ground as he began to pull out an assortment of food and drink. “I knew some of the things you like already, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough…so I kind of just bought the whole of Hog’s Head,” he explained with a nervous laugh, sitting on his knees to reach further into the basket and present even more food.

“Oh, Jamie, I…this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me! And probably the most food anyone’s ever given me as well,” you giggled, glancing around the space in awe at the atmospheric romance.

“I’m sorry if it’s too much, I just- Sirius says I’m always such a hopeless romantic,” he rambled bashfully in reply, “I hope you like it, love.”

He started to make you a plate of all your favourite foods, adding a few new dishes too. He poured you some butterbeer before serving himself, rarely looking away from you. His heart was on fire, lit alight by his sheer magnetic attraction to you. He knew his younger self would be beaming to know he actually finally got to sit like this with you, alone with the stars and a candlelit dinner. He was in heaven.

The quiet sounds of eating consumed the room, both of you meeting each other’s gaze at a particularly loud crunch of food under teeth. You both burst out laughing, falling over yourselves as you finally relaxed into the date.

“So, quick question,” James began after finishing half of his plate, “the other night, when we confessed, you said I was surprisingly kind?”

“I did, and you are,” you replied, covering your mouth full of food as you looked at him curiously.

“Well, I was just wondering…why did you find that surprising? Have I ever done anything to make you think otherwise?”

You thought over your answer, swallowing your mouthful. After a beat, you responded. “I suppose I only really knew you for your pranks, outside of classes and common room parties. The early stuff was never concerning, I mean, I found it quite funny the way you’d give bullies a taste of their own medicine. But I suppose as the years went on, and the pranks got harsher, and the targets became more innocent, I started to believe you were sort of…mean.”

James glanced at you with an embarrassed smile. “Oh…right…yeah that makes sense. We, uhh- had our reasons for hexing people, but I suppose it’s been pretty harsh recently…” James was bright red, biting his lip and glancing at the floor. You did the same, resuming eating as the boy’s face cooled down.

“Do you remember that Slytherin boy last year? The one in the year above who tried to chat you up at dinner?” You stopped chewing, raising your eyebrows. “Yeah, I do actually…what about him?”

“Well, do you remember his hair turned bright green the next morning…?”

A moment passed in awkward silence. Then, “James! You hexed someone over me!?” Your jaw was slack, and James refused to meet your gaze. “He was being too pushy…besides, I thought you might’ve liked him and, well, I was pretty upset that night. Sirius just decided to…cheer me up,” He explained cautiously.

You snorted, covering your mouth to conceal a laugh. Soon James was laughing too, mostly from relief that you found his infatuation amusing.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A few butterbeers later, you were sitting close and leaning towards each other, whispering about your interests like they were the best kept secrets on earth.

“I didn’t think I really belonged in Gryffindor when I was sorted,” James began, “I thought I wasn’t self-assured enough to fit in. I think over the years I just developed an act of cocky confidence to hide that insecurity.”

You gazed at the boy in affection, basking in similarity. “I thought the exact same thing, though I didn’t show any real bravery until I decided to investigate your little letters this year,” you giggled in reply, “We have so many expectations to live up to under this house. Although, I think it’s the same for every house.”

James hummed in agreement, smiling as he inched slightly closer to you, brushing your hand with his. When you didn’t immediately flinch away and smack him, he moved his hand over yours as you intertwined your fingers with his. You sat in comfortable silence, gazing at each other with shy adoration, before continuing your conversation.

“What do you want to do after school?” You asked, still staring at the boy with a soft blush. “I want to be an Auror, protect the people I love. I’m getting relatively good grades in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I might have to convince my parents that it’s not too dangerous,” he laughed while beaming down at you. You smiled, opening your mouth to respond before-

“I also want to spend my future with you.”

The words came with a dousing of flustered rambling, James forcing himself to hold your gaze despite the growing heat in his face. “I really, really do,” he emphasised.

The Astronomy Tower made the two of you feel like the only people left on Earth, blocking out any other sign of life on the romantic evening. You were lost in thought.

Your breath hitched when you finally noticed how close James was, nervously glancing between your eyes and lips. You mirrored his movements, leaning towards him with a final glance at his eyes, illuminated by a golden glow.

After years of pining, wishing and waiting, he pushed his lips on yours. The kiss started soft and slow as James hesitated the urge to deepen the connection, something you then initiated. Your lips locked with his in a firm display of passion and affection, hands moving to his hair and reversing the hard work of his comb. His hands trailed down your sides to rest on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

James hummed against your lips, forcing a smile down as to not break the kiss. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of, the taste of butterbeer lingering as your lips melted against each other.

After what felt like hours, you finally parted to take a breath. James was bright red and grinning ear to ear, glasses askew on the tip of his nose and hair messier than ever. He pushed up his glasses before returning his hand to your waist, looking down at you as if you were the solution to eternal happiness.

The goofy expression finally melted off of his face, now staring at you with a lovestruck glint in his eye and a soft smile as he drew little patterns on your waist with his fingers.

Silently, you both laid back against the blanket, staring at the stars that were scattered across the sky.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

After an hour of whispering sweet nothings under the night sky, lying on James’ chest as he rubbed soothing circles into your back with the palm of his hand, he sat up with a grunt.

You were drunk on the feeling of stolen kisses and sweet talk, gazing hazily at Gryffindor’s head boy as he reached into the picnic basket.

From the woven wood emerged a baby blue envelope, your name scrawled on the front in that familiar, boyish hand.

You joined him in sitting up from the blanket as he held the letter out to you, along with the bouquet he had bought especially for this moment.

You stared curiously at the letter, plucking it from his hands and placing the bouquet in your lap, quietly thanking him for the gesture.

You carefully peeled open the letter, peering into its depth. Pulling your final love letter from its fold, you slowly laid the page open.

“Be mine?

- Forever yours, J.P.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: YAYYYYYY!!! I’m planning on writing one more chapter about these two during the early years, before wrapping it up with some fluffy relationship goodness <3 I’m also starting one for James fic and a few miscellaneous characters!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Tag List: @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @caspiankingofnarnia @thesuitelifeofafangirl @moonydoodlez @fionnalopez @kawaiiarbitervoid @kc2sstuff @rafeyswrd @mads12043 @spicybearnaise @ch3rry-vine @probabydeadbynow @ilovejamespottersomuch @mqg125 @sofiacblair @valenftcrush @revesephemeres @louweenier @the-lavender-girl

[sweetypouch]

Home Sweet Home

Mr. Crawling Hcs

Synopsis: Just you and him. A couple living their daily life together.

Spoilers!⚠️ From END04: Blissful Love Life

Incorrect grammar (?)

Mr. Crawling being a clingy baby

Fluff. Just pure fluff

Word count: 611

Living with him wasn't so bad at all, it was actually more lively. With him crawling around, following you like a baby who just learned how to move around, it was still nice that he kept on guarding you like some threat would just appear out of nowhere and attack you.

Well to be honest, he really is your baby. You thought it was a good idea to buy some stuff that'll help him adapt to a new life, from educational books—mostly books that are for little kids to help him learn about your language easily, to technology like phones and some other appliances used around your apartment that he doesn't have a single clue about. Sometimes he would just point at something and you'd immediately tell him what it is, just like he used to do to you back in his world.

It was like babysitting a child, except it never bothered you at all, you love taking care of him, it's the least you can do to repay him for his kindness and protection. After all, it's not possible to get back to your own world safely without his help.

Your apartment's kind of cramped, but he actually enjoys the limited space, because he can find you around the house very easily. He doesn't want you out of his sight, not even a second. Being a very curious creature that he is, it's not a surprise if you find him wandering around the kitchen, crawling around the living room, or even hiding in the bathroom.

Cuddles with him are a must, it's a part of your everyday life now and shouldn't be forgotten, or else he'd sulk in a corner or cry inside your closet, wondering if you dislike him. A clingy baby always need some hugs, so please do hug him before leaving the house.

Bathing him was very fun, he'd laugh a lot or even play with the foamy bubbles forming inside the tub. Sometimes you'd play with him, stacking up the foam on top of his head, and he would be amused, which you find really adorable. After it, the next thing you would do is to dry up his hair, which is kind of difficult because it's long and it's very time-consuming. Aside from that, you know he doesn't like someone touching or even fixing his hair, yet to him, you're the only exception. He trusts you very much, so it's completely okay for him if you want to style his hair, comb his hair, or even put cute hair clips around it. He loves seeing that smile on your face.

On rare occasions, you would try and convince him to walk rather than to crawl, you're kind of afraid people would assume you're treating him like a dog if he crawls around town with you. You wanted to take him on a date, maybe a picnic date would be nice, or maybe a walk in a park to let him enjoy the outside world even for a while.

He loves kissing you, you spoiled him a bit too much at that so it's technically your fault. As soon as you taught him about kissing as an alternative way of saying 'I love you', he immediately showers you with kisses all around your face, making you so flustered. You never saw this side of him before until now, and it leads to more curiosity about how does he really act when he loves someone.

Spending the night with him was always so cozy and comfortable, with you cuddled up to him, his arms wrapped tight around your body as he watched your sleeping figure first before finally closing his eyes.

And in the morning, it's always waking up with a smile, ready to experience another day having each other.

[zwhoreo]

Hi! Can I request a fic where the fem!reader helps Luffy to deal with the trauma of losing his brother?

omg first fic after i randomly left for 2 months!! but im back to writing angst again im in an angst phase

also i ended up not specifying anything gendered for reader, hope that’s chill that it’s x gn! i mostly reserve gendered language for smut

wake up @nina-ya i finished the fic i said i’d finish 2 months ago

nightmares - luffy x gn!reader

angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

❕SPOILERS FOR MARINEFORD❕

summary: the trauma of marineford gives luffy nightmares, and you need to comfort him while he’s vulnerable and scared

contains: luffy in a distressing emotional situation, luffy is traumatized, references to marineford/ace’s death/timeskip

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy never used to remember his dreams. They were hazy and soft, they made him feel warm and fuzzy when he woke up, he would stretch and yawn and they’d go away so fast and so gently like butterflies flying away. And then he’d see you and hold you and kiss you until you were awake too, as excited to see you and his heart so warm and full of love.

And you were there to enjoy his dreams, he was a noisy sleeper who mumbled happy little thoughts unintelligibly into your neck, he would kick and pinch and squeeze in his sleep which you had to learn to live with because he couldn’t go to sleep without a hug and you’d be the one to give it to him all night. But he’d often end up moving and rolling around, tangling himself uncomfortably, protective instincts kicking in he'd get on top of you and lay there, starfish. When he awoke in the night he’d assume his most comfortable and close position with lazy kisses. He was so, so happy every night.

That was two years ago.

He’s still the same boy he was then, still giving you all those awkward little affections during the night that you missed so much while you were away. But now there’s more. Now, sometimes, he has nightmares. Awful ones that torment him every so often and make him upset and sad when he awakes in the dark, make him begin to cry when he realizes you aren’t in his arms anymore. You always pray for nights when he’s calm like he used to be, you make sure to massage him and kiss him as he falls asleep to coax those good dreams back and help him heal. Of course those years ago he’d get upset and scared and sometimes he wouldn’t feel well when he woke up, but that was so rare, that was when something bad had just happened and he was very stressed but it was so rare because he was so, so happy.

Luffy’s happy now, too. He hasn’t changed much, really, still an excitable, bouncy kid, always smiling, but now you have to worry about the night. You have to worry about dark thoughts and memories bubbling over when he’s most vulnerable until his body shakes and even your affection is barely enough. This is terrible for you, so unbearably terrible. You have to learn how to soothe something broken, something you love with every fraction of your shattered heart.

_________________________________

You’re asleep, a dull, unbreakable sleep, you’d curled up in Luffy’s arms when it was time for bed and you’d cuddled together and giggled and kissed until you both fell asleep in a joyful pile. Now you’re so content, you don’t even notice how Luffy had accidentally rolled away from you in the night, sheets all tangled up with you and keeping a distracting warmth.

Luffy’s dream isn’t bad at first. It’s the kind where you’re not quite there, floating above the world in just a dull picture, no sound or feeling or touch. It’s just the ocean, a bird over the sea. But suddenly the ocean is stone and the sky is fire and he’s disoriented, where is he? What’s happening? He looks at his hands and they’re red and he’s frozen in fear like you sometimes are in nightmares. He knows in his fractured, cloudy little mind that something bad is going to happen and he’s going to see that picture again. A thousand flashbulb memories are going to explode at once, in fire. In the waking world in bed he’s twitching and sweating and his eyes are shifting furiously beneath his lids, and you don’t know, you aren’t there to hold him.

Ace. Ace’s smile and his soft black eyes and they’re playing in the jungle together and running and running and now that’s gone, the fire’s back. It all happens at once, so much blood, holding something fading and dying. Heartsick over a goodbye. It’s one of those nightmares where you cry and scream so much and as loud as you can because everything’s happening to you at once, but you can’t make any sound, you’re just in a tidal wave of amplified agony. And that’s how Luffy lives in this moment, unable to make out much of anything except darkness and pain, shaking and overheating in his sleep.

But the anguish bursts all around him and then suddenly the fire’s gone and everything is quiet again and Luffy’s awake, tangled uncomfortably in the blankets, face covered in tears. He can’t catch his breath and his mind is full and blurry and empty all at once. Suddenly the darkness of the cabin is all encompassing, sickly, he wants it to be day again and for the world to feel safe and happy and oh, where are you?

Fear squeezes his heart as he tries to find you in the darkness, are you gone? He can’t handle being alone right now, he can’t do this, he searches with his hands in the dark and cries and feels the panic burning a hole in his stomach but finally he turns to his left and there you are. Sleeping. Despite all of this you’re still sleeping, curled up and breathing slowly, unaware and at peace. Luffy wants to wake you up so badly because he doesn’t want to be alone but he doesn’t want to worry you.

So he climbs into your arms and breathes you in. He buries his face in your chest and tries to calm his injured heart.

Biting his lip and shaking he tries so hard not to cry. He can’t bother you, he knows you’ll be sad and worried which he really doesn’t want. But his whole body hurts, he wants your arms to be tighter, he squeezes and squeezes begging silently for relief and for everything to go away but it wasn’t just a night terror it was a memory and memories don’t just go away. So he cries.

You’re stirred from sleep because the sound of Luffy crying is the worst thing you could possibly hear, a thousand of your own memories are brought back and some deep instinct is triggered within you, pulling you, you wake up immediately and the first thing you do is get on top of him and lock him in your arms, trying to breathe slowly so he will too.

He twitches beneath you, cloudy realization that he’s no longer alone. His arms are around you, fingers digging in, sharp pain, he’s trying so hard to make his tears stop as you hold him and stroke his face. But he’s a possessive, needy boyfriend who’s comforted by protecting who he loves. He sits up, taking you with him, he wraps his arms around you tighter and tighter and then his legs. He’s breathing heavily on your face, eyes closed, sad still but resilient. You’re pinned to him, unable to move, but you massage the tension out of his back and shoulders as best you can.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you whisper and he nods against you and holds you even tighter if that’s possible, “…do you wanna talk about it?”

So he nods very gently but he doesn’t say anything. His hands are twitching against you, scratching at your back in leftover desperation.

“Was it about him?”

Luffy leans against you, hopeless and drained, you don’t need him to answer so you just press your cheek against his and pet his hair. And his shoulders shake as he cries silently in your arms.

You rest there for a few minutes, unable to do much other than just hold him, and he whispers in your ear, “I miss him so much.” Which wets your eyes because there’s so much pain in those five words. His voice is breathy, far away.

“I know, Lu… I’m sorry.” You’re not good at this, you think. You never really know what to say because this goes deeper than words can touch.

Luffy bites his lips. He doesn’t want to cause you pain and knowing that he is, it’s just piling on top of his despair. There’s so many times he’s oblivious to how you’re feeling but when things are broken, when you’re in distress, reality tugs at the inside of his heart.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, fingers in his hair, you kiss his neck gently and the warmth is getting through to him, so gradually.

“I want him here. I just…” Luffy’s voice is breaking. And you taste fresh tears as you move your lips higher. “I miss him,” he says again.

“I know how much he meant to you. Hey, Luffy…” The slow rise and fall of your chest is slowly steadier his breath now. He looks up at you, that sadness in his eyes is almost too painful to handle but you look at him anyways, eye contact with something beautiful soothes his soul. “He’d be so proud of you. And how strong you are.”

He’s heard this before. Luffy sniffles, he knows it’s true but only so much of that can help.

“He’d be proud of you, because you never gave up, right? You kept going and you got stronger.” And you’re not talking about his physical strength, really. You tap the side of his head gently. “Up here.”

Luffy nods subtly, his tears are stopping slowly as he clings to the comfort of your words, his greatest comfort in the world is protecting people he loves, being there for someone. He’s still guilt ridden at letting his brother die for him but as long as he keeps living he’s living for Ace, honoring him, being there for him even if he’s gone.

And that’s what you say next, reading his mind. “What matters is that you’re alive. You didn’t let what he did for you go to waste, he’d be so proud of that. This is exactly what he wanted, yeah?” Your hands trace circles on Luffy’s back as you feel him relax very slowly.

“I’m so happy you’re still here,” you whisper right in his ear.

“Mhm…” Luffy’s lips find yours, hovering, just touching you. “I’m not letting you go, ‘kay?” His words are so deep and genuine. There’s heartache there but an impenetrable love, most of all. His arms are flexed around your body, he’s squeezing you and it’s almost uncomfortable but you have to let him right now.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You manage a smile which makes him smile too.

It seemed impossible for Luffy to get even more loving but he definitely was when you saw him again. You’re the one who’s getting it all, all the affection he wanted to give to his brother.

“You wanna hang out for a while?” You offer because you’re scared to let him sleep again. “It’s ok to stay up. If you’re tired tomorrow I’ll take a nap with you.”

He likes that idea. Maybe you’ll get something to eat, even take a walk on the deck if it’s not too cold. He just wants your company. He wants to spend as much time with you as he physically can to make up for everything and to show you how much love he has to give.

“I love you, mh, let’s stay up an’ hang out,” his words are quiet and gravelly from sleep and tears but what matters is he’s smiling now. He’s back to living in the moment tonight, and you’re his moment.

The next morning he’ll be completely back to himself. He’ll kiss you good morning but he’ll act like the night never happened, probably, because it’s nicer to be happy and enjoy the day. He has you, he knows everything’s going to be alright.

[yuellii]

“Your eyes are very pretty.”

In the incandescences of the night, Neuvillette feels heat rush to his cheeks in a matter of seconds. The sense was not quite unfamiliar, but it was certainly inexplicable considering it only came from your compliments alone. Perhaps it was the words you used, so casually thrown at him in a manner like this. He always felt this way when you were alone together.

Watching as you lean forward against the railing of the bridge, he chooses to reply: “You’re pretty, too.”

Your eyes widen. The moonlight mirroring the sea before you instantly illuminated the surprise in your expression, and he panics. Was he not supposed to say that? Should he have used a different word?

At this rate, he’s lost control of his heartbeat.

But then, you smile so brightly, it rivals the sun that has already set so soon. He feels the beating in his chest calming ever-so slightly, because your smile centered the notion that you weren’t upset with him. “Is that a compliment?” you lead with lingering laughter. “Did I just receive a compliment from you, Monsieur?—from the ‘heartless’ Chief Justice Neuvillette?”

At first, he was a little saddened at the fact you would believe such rumors that spread around the Fontainian citizens. Because they hurt him, inevitably—being deemed stone-cold and apathetic while he tried his hardest to understand human emotions. And those words coming from the mouth of someone he secretly loved—someone he truly wanted to understand him—well, it may have hurt him a little more than it should’ve.

“Does my outwardly presentation…” he began quietly, solemnly staring down into the calm water, “really look so unkind?”

The smile was swiped from your face immediately once you realized he took offense. “No, no, I was only joking, good Monsieur!” you quickly assured. Neuvillette found it difficult to swallow—if it was just a joke, why did he feel a sting in his chest? Perhaps this was yet another section of human speech he had to learn. “I just felt it was rare,” you looked up so kindly concerned at him, “to hear you say something like that. It was really nice, actually.”

‘Really nice?’ You were satisfied with him just speaking his thoughts? Because truly, he’s thought about how pretty you are, and every synonym to rival beauty—every day, he’s thought it. And today was the first time he’s ever voiced it.

“But,” he looked back at you next to him, confusion clouding his face, “you should know it. You’re very pretty.”

He watched as embarrassment flooded your face the moment he spoke those words. And now, he was even more perplexed. He was not even trying to get you flustered; he was only explaining why his compliment wasn’t necessarily a compliment ( but instead, a fact ) in the first place, so why were you suddenly so shy?

“I mean it,” he reinforced when you shoved your face into your hands. Did he have to explain more? “I’m sure everyone who knows you thinks the same way, so it should be common knowledge that—”

“Oh, Monsieur,” you cut him off in pure self-consciousness, “you’re such a sweet-talker even when you’re not trying to be!” Was he really? And then you laughed, staring up at him with a joyous little crease under your eyes. “And to think, here I was, trying to compliment you first...”

He cleared his throat as he cast his gaze down to the water again. “Ah, you don’t need to do that…”

What was this bubbling feeling in this stomach? His head, his abdomen—all felt so light, like he was sparkling inside and ready to float to the heavens. But his throat was dry and his lungs felt plugged, as if he could not utter another word without choking himself. This was all so unfamiliar to him, but he didn’t think he hated it, at least.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “But I do think your eyes are pretty”—he looked away shyly once more—“and it should be ‘common knowledge’, as well.” Using his own words against him, how cruel… Could you not see how red his face was getting? How fast his heart was pumping? He could only pray that you couldn’t hear how loudly it was beating in his chest. You thought his eyes were pretty… His eyes, the very same ones people thought looked cold and emotionless. But you thought they were pretty.

Oh, he might just dissolve right now.

“You should know it, good Monsieur,” you grinned up at him. A grin that held a glint of mischief granted from the moonlight, and yet, he could not ignore the gentleness of genuineness that also radiated from your expression.

The more you look at him with such tenderness… He might just finally learn what human love really is.

[daenysx]

there is literally no one else i think would do this idea as good as you (i do understand completely if you don’t want to tho this is zero pressure) but what about one of the marauders or a combo or anything you want with them with someone who’s been feeling super down and lonely and is just spiralling back into really bad old habits like not eating well and like seeking like self sabotage or something, i just think you write them being sweet and kind so so well and i need them so bad but only ur version tho <333

again I get if you don’t want to at all my lovely

thank you for requesting and being so sweet, angel !!! i chose to go with remus and this is a bit self indulgent (cried when writing it haha) but i hope it makes you feel good <333333

remus lupin x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

cw; mentions of not eating and sleeping properly, reader feels lonely, tiny bits of fluff and angst, lots of kisses from remus

october drags you behind its back as it slowly comes to an end.

you think you've been doing well with the pressure of things lately, handled it good, you've been strong. you didn't let things upset you much, you found nice things to focus, you smiled, you kept going.

the bubble bursts on a late evening, there's nothing you can do to fix it.

suddenly all of the texts you get from your friends feel shallow and meaningless. the food only works to keep you on your feet, you don't get any pleasure from eating. sleep doesn't last long, you crave it like air during the day, but there's not enough time. your smiles don't feel real. you linger in places, trying to keep your steps steady. you think you'll collapse, the thought scares you to your bones.

"hey." remus whispers, shaking his fingers in front of your eyes. you haven't been listening. "are you okay?"

his voice is coming under the water. your head feels like a heavy balloon, but you give a slow smile to your boyfriend. "sorry, i'm a bit distracted. can you tell me again?"

remus smiles back, pieces of doubt and worry creeping in his eyes. he wraps an arm around you, it's a rare night that he gets to hold you like this on the couch. he wants to make the best of it.

"it's okay, i was just rambling." he offers gently. "can i get a kiss?"

you nod, snuggling to his chest so that you can reach his lips. remus's lips feel good always, but tonight it's something more. he kisses with all his heart, emotions dripping, he likes sweet and slow. his fingers rub the back of your head, you get closer. your eyes burn with tears.

you look upset. remus knows it's not about him, you just need somewhere to empty your mind.

you keep kissing remus. it's good, he massages the tightness of your neck. it's better than breathing, you close your eyes. your head gets lighter as the kiss goes on. letting out a shaky sigh, you separate yourself from him, and hide your face to his chest.

remus doesn't say anything. he just rubs circles on your back. you start crying in slow tears, your breathing soft and liquified. you're not loud. soaked in his scent and wrapped in his sweater covered arms, you try to find yourself a place to calm down.

"you're gonna be okay." he whispers with a kiss on your head. "you're not alone."

that's the thing with loneliness, you don't think you can make yourself believe you're not alone. it surrounds your entire mind, squeezes your heart in your chest, makes you think you're an unloveable loser. your fingers grab remus's sweater. they are desperate to have something to hold onto.

you need to breathe. lifting your head to get some air into your body, you look at remus. it wrecks him, his poor girl, staring at him through glossy eyes. his thumb dries your tears gently. his eyes follow you like you're precious. like you don't deserve to be hurt by the world.

"i feel like i'm lost." you confess. "like nothing good will come out of the things i do. like i'm trying for no reason."

remus understands it, he gets drown in these feelings most times. sometimes the life is worth living, sometimes it's scary and pointless. there's love, though. he loves you too much to see you in pain. he loves every part of you, he likes being loved by you. if he's gonna get to spend it with you, then life can't be that bad.

"you haven't eaten anything properly in the last a few days." he says, calmly. "you haven't slept for more than 4 hours a day. you're constantly moving, trying to finish your things. i understand all of it, dove, but these things affect you more than you think."

"i know." you accept. "i just want to take care of myself. i wanna be good."

"you are good." he says. he cups your cheek. "you've been doing so good, i promise. i just wanna help you take care of yourself, because you're not alone. you don't have to deal with everything alone."

"i just think- i should be able to solve my own problems. i know it sounds stupid, but i was trying."

remus smiles fondly. at least the problem in context is being talked about right now. at least he gets to hold you through it, he gets to love you.

"it's not stupid." he promises. "i just need you to know i'm here. for any part you let me in, i'm here."

you nod. no more words for tonight probably. remus nods, too. it's okay.

he pulls your head to let it stay on the crook of his neck. you settle down. you won't suddenly be okay just because he talked you through it, he knows, but it's still something. slow kisses, gentle fingers. remus is here.

"you need food, sleep, and some loving, dove." he says like it's an obvious decision. "once we get all these done, i'm sure things will feel a bit better."

"can we start with the loving, please?"

"i know, it's my favorite, too." he smiles. he's an angel.

he begins by kissing your forehead. his lips are warm on you, he presses them between your eyebrows to help you relax the tight muscles there. you close your eyes, he kisses your slightly wet cheeks. he kisses your cheekbones, your jawline. his hands fix your hair as you breathe in his air. you get close to him like a kitten stayed in cold.

"i love you." he says, softer than he thinks he can manage. "i love you more than anything."

he gives you a long kiss on your lips this time. tiny caresses, nothing too passionate. he moves his lips on your chin, below your ears.

"you've been doing so well." he whispers when he gets close to your ear. "you'll be doing better. it's gonna be okay."

you move your fingers to your sweater, the air feels too warm. remus helps you take it off to leave you in your tank top. he kisses your collarbones, the spot between them. you don't know what this is, is it worshipping? he's doing something you've never felt before. you feel like liquid in his arms, melted and safe. addicted to this now. there's no going back.

"i love you." you whisper. "i can't even say how much."

"i know how much." he tells you. "i know, baby."

your cheeks are dry. remus makes sure of your comfort. his hand finds your waist to hold you, other hand going straight to your hair. his fingers rub your scalp. you look like a cat, your back arched prettily to him, you're practically hungry for his affection. your eyes feel droopy, tired with the emotions you had to deal with and the stress of the week.

"we can go to bed." remus offers. "you look like you'll fall asleep."

"can we stay here?" you ask him, his lap is more comfortable than bed and this position is amazing.

"of course." he says. he's gonna be your pillow for as long as you want him to be.

"thank you, baby." you whisper to his ear, voice swimming in fondness. "for everything you said."

remus likes being your baby, that's true. he likes how you trust him and how responsive you are to his touches, too. you close your eyes again, calm and safe. he covers your bare shoulder with the blanket after putting a kiss on it. the night goes well, he thinks.