#I should’ve known them earlier

[lavenderjewels]

i really do appreciate that gege went out of the way in the recent chapters just to point out how hot kenjaku/geto is. and the sudden romantic clown x clown chemistry between takaba and kenjaku was unexpected but not unwelcomed

[chuluoyi]

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒

- sylus x reader

you suspect something’s off when you catch your lover with the hunter girl, so you decide to give him the cold shoulder. his way of winning you back? trapping you in a bet—if he wins this underground fight match, you’re back to being his

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—brief smut, comfort, total fluff, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), based on sylus' card radiant brilliance

note: this has been looong buried in my drafts since before my writer's block started :') again, a part of the assassin!reader that started with strictly (un)professional

Your lover— he is definitely hiding something.

“Mmph!” A moan escaped you mid-kiss as his palm suddenly cupped your right breast, squeezing and stroking it, while two of his left fingers thrusted inside you, getting you wet.

His fevered lips and tongue melded with yours, his wicked fingers driving you to the brink of madness—and oh damn, the devil that possessed them felt so heavenly—as he pressed you against the vanity, bending you over its edge.

A knowing gleam flickered in his eyes. “Mm, you talk too much, woman.”

Your thoughts blurred, teetering on the edge of control, yet deep within, a spark of aggravation incessantly burned, especially when you remembered the person you had caught him manhandling earlier this afternoon—

Miss Hunter.

“Sylus—! Stop!”

"Tch." He pulled away with a hiss as soon as you pushed his chest away with everything you had. Just like that, you were left high and dry; the emptiness his fingers had left behind made you instinctively cross your legs. "Why are you so uncooperative tonight?"

"You—" Gasping for breath, you clutched your slipping nightgown, glaring sharply at him despite the discomfort of the hard surface beneath you. "You really think you can shut me up... with sex?"

"I'm telling you, nothing happened." Sylus’ lips curled with a smug hint of satisfaction, only fueling your irritation. "Didn’t know my woman had such a jealous streak until now."

If there was one thing you’d learned from years by Sylus' side, it was that everything he did had a purpose. If it had been some random bimbo hanging around the casino or his resorts, you wouldn’t bat even an eye.

But this was the Miss Hunter—the very girl he had spent decades searching for, the one with whom he shared a bond so profound that he had forsaken everything just for the chance to find her again.

And compared to her, you were just his bedwarmer... who just happened to catch his eye.

"You two were kissing," you accused almost spitefully, the words laced with bitter edge.

His grin vanished, replaced by a look of distaste. "We were not."

You knew what you saw—he cornered her in the furthermost corner of the base, far away from even from the prying eyes of Luke and Kieran, and they were definitely just an inch away from each other. "Then what were you two doing?"

"Can't we talk just like acquaintances do?" The lack of viable answer gnawed at you. If there was nothing to hide, why didn’t he just say so and put your suspicions to rest?

"Will you do her like you do me?" The venom in your voice startled even you, slipping out before you could stop it. "Ha. I should’ve known..."

By now, he had this sour yet stern look in his face that made you almost shudder but you stood your ground. His tone was almost mocking, "Insecurity makes you so bitter, sweetie. Get yourself together."

It felt like a prick in the heart. Oh. As heartless as you were in the face of blood and gore, you still had it apparently when faced with your lover's conniving red eyes and sinful lips.

But more than that... as they said, heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is another.

"To hell with you!" you snapped, sitting up straight. Sylus blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the look on your face—was it showing the hurt? Or just plain defiance? Even you weren’t sure as you spun on your heel and stormed out of his room promptly.

Not for the first time, the very idea that he might be getting on with another woman twisted something inside you, the ache sharper than you expected. It suddenly saddened you to a degree that it brought mist to your eyes.

For the next three days, you ignored Sylus almost completely. He tried to get back to your good graces, but you paid him no mind, acting as if he didn't exist.

“Missus, please— just say yes!”

And caught in the crossfire, poor Luke and Kieran had become his reluctant messengers.

You unconsciously shot a sharp glare at the twins. Perhaps it was the mental strain you were putting yourself under, but you truly hadn’t meant to scare them more than they already were.

"Boss is really cranky when he isn't in a good mood," Luke pleaded, clasping his hands together. "Please just help us this time, will you?"

"He promises he’ll make it right!" Kieran chimed in with a hopeful grin. "As soon as he wins his match this weekend, you’ll see—there’s nothing to worry about!"

Sylus and his penchant for boxing. You knew these underground matches were something he indulged in now and then, and you'd let him be.

But this time...

"How are you so sure he's going to win?" You lifted your chin, a taunting smirk curling your lips. "And no, I'm not going. Tell him that."

"Missus, you have to see reason— there is no way Boss is having an affair—" Kieran insisted, shaking his head in frustration.

"Boss is whipped!" Luke cut in, throwing his hands up. "For you! Can't you see?!"

"..." For a solid five seconds, silence blanketed the room. You arched an eyebrow so high it made Luke look like he'd just spilled the world’s best-kept secret, while Kieran slapped a hand over his mask in exasperation.

And things were obviously not getting better—

"Ha. I'm what?"

You could see the twins visibly gulping the very second Sylus' voice boomed across the hall, and you rolled your eyes.

"Pfft," he let out this low chuckle as he made his way towards the three of you. "Hear that, sweetie? Luke isn't wrong."

"..."

"The little kitty's anger hasn't subsided, I see," he murmured, tilting his head to the side with a playful smirk, arms folded across his chest. "Such little trust you have in me."

You sighed. "Don't tempt me to hate you prolifically, Sylus."

"You wound me," he retorted, ruby-red eyes narrowed. "I have been nothing but honest and transparent."

You turned away, pressing your lips into a tight line. Deep down, you knew how childish all of this felt. Maybe it was nothing, after all. Maybe, just like he said, it was your insecurity twisting things.

And why are you so insecure, anyway?

"Keep your eyes on me, kitten."

Suddenly, caught off guard, you almost yelped as he tilted your chin towards him, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your heart raced wildly, but you fought to keep it in check.

"I win, and you’ll do what I say," his eyes flicking from yours to your lips, his voice a velvety whisper in your ear. "But if I lose... you can have your way—however you want."

Your pride took over. A second later, you jerked your face away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. To salvage your dignity, you let out an indignant scoff.

"Best hope you lose then."

You’d never been fond of crowds, let alone sitting in the stands of a boxing match.

And yet here you were, clutching a bouquet of fresh flowers—the twins had practically shoved them into your arms before bolting away—surrounded by the deafening roar of fans.

You would punish them later, you so would. It was humid and you were fuming. There was nothing interesting here, and to top it all off, Sylus’ turn to the ring was taking forever.

Until it didn't.

When he finally stepped into the spotlight, you caught sight of him on the big screen. And in that moment—when that devilish smirk curled his lips—you could’ve sworn he wasn’t aiming it at the crowd.

He was throwing it right at your direction.

And oh, how the rapid and traitorous thump-thump-thump inside your chest drowned out everything else, as if the roar of the crowd gradually faded at the realization.

How is it that he always manages to get your heart in his grasp?

. . .

When they said this sport wasn’t for the weak, they weren’t lying. No matter how tough you thought you were, you still flinched every time the opponent’s fist connected with your lover’s jaw.

Despite all the aggravation you harbored about him, watching him stumble and get knocked back felt like a punch to your own gut. In that moment, all you wanted was for it to end.

And when it finally was—when the referee raised Sylus’ arm and declared his victory—you exhaled a shaky breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Relief washed over you in a quiet, fleeting wave.

However, reporters and cheers quickly swarmed him, and the distance between you felt even greater then. There he stood, proud as ever, lofty as if standing atop clouds, surveying the world with thinly veiled contempt. Meanwhile, you…

You were still dissatisfied. Sylus had a way of winning everything he set his sights on, while you remained stuck with your own petty grievances and emotional baggage you subjected yourself to.

It was vexing, really. How you wanted him to win and not at the same time. How you wanted his everything and knowing you would never be able to.

“What’s the secret to winning this match?!” one reporter asked, voice brimming with excitement.

Sylus answered with a casual smirk. “I made a bet I absolutely can’t lose,” he said coolly. “So, I won.”

The girls in the stands erupted into deafening cheers at his response, their shrill voices forcing you to cover your ears.

The nerve. You scoffed, irked by his answer and by the crowd’s adoration. You decided you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of you lingering here any longer.

Snatching up your bag and that damned bouquet, you marched toward the exit with long, determined strides when—

“Ooh? And who is this special person?!”

“Ah, look, there she is.”

You froze mid-step as the spotlight suddenly pinned you in its beam. Whirling around, your breath caught as you saw Sylus descending from the arena, his gaze locked onto yours.

What the hell?

For a moment, you froze in utter disbelief as he approached you with that effortless grace, as if the crowd around him didn’t exist. Before you could piece together your fragmented thoughts, he was already standing before you.

“Are you mad?!” you murmured in a hiss, your voice barely louder than a breath over the distant roar of cheers, yet pointed enough to pierce the air between you.

Sylus, however, only let out a snort, swiftly snatching the bouquet from your arms, and pulling you by the shoulders— his breath tickled you ear as he whispered:

“Got you.”

—and before you could react, he crashed his lips on yours in a bold kiss that at sent the crowd into an instant uproar of cheers.

“Whoa, whoa! The champion! Look how manly he is!”

“He has a girlfriend?!”

“Oh, my! To be that girl!”

“—!” You almost pushed him away, only to falter when you realized his kiss was anything but forceful. It was deep but disarmingly gentle.

Sylus pulled back just as quickly, his eyes twinkled with mischief as he took in your stunned expression.

“You’re mine now, sweetie,” he said with a smug grin, giving you a light pat in the head.

The way his eyes crinkle as he looks at you... Your cheeks burned, and your heart thundered in your chest, drowning the roars of the swooning crowd—

Because in that moment, you could’ve sworn there was nothing but pure adoration in those mesmerizing garnet eyes of his.

“You've gone and done it... What if anyone recognizes us?”

Later that night, freshly showered and wrapped in silk nightgowns, you sat at the edge of the bed, towel in hand as you dried your wet hair. You cast a glance at Sylus, who had just bathed with you and now lounged nearby with an unbothered grin.

The events from this afternoon still felt like somewhat of a dream to you. You had never been under that much of a spotlight before— too used to a life shrouded in shadows, quietly biding your time, preparing to brandish your blade when the moment came.

But through Sylus, every now and then, you caught a glimpse of what it felt like to stand on the other side of that darkness. And it felt freeing— like you could finally breathe, unburdened by the scent of blood and gunpowder.

"Wouldn't that be fun? Imagine the headlines," he shrugged nonchalantly. "The Onychinus leader and his missus... masquerading as a boxer and his fan for a day."

You huffed, shooting him a stink eye. "That's not even funny."

Despite the public display that Sylus had more or less pulled and made the two of you known as lovers even in underground world, there was still a gnawing curiosity at the back of your mind, feeding your insecurity—

The sight of him and Miss Hunter replayed again in your mind's eye. It was never fun finding them together in such close proximity.

And yet, in the end... he returned to you, still. Unspoken it may be, but Sylus had always taken your side so far.

You let out a long, resigned sigh. That caught his attention as he turned to you. "What is it?"

"Nothing," you quipped, slightly grimacing. "Forget it. I'm going to sleep."

Sylus raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on you. Even when you hid it, he knew what you'd wanted to ask and if you asked it now, he would tell you.

The way your face had fallen bothered him more than he'd like to admit. He rose from the recliner and moved to your side. "No, you won't be sleeping."

"What?"

He knelt beside you, gently taking hold of your leg, and pressed a kiss to your calf, his touch warm and unhurried as he met your gaze with a sly smile.

"Sylus..." you eyed him with incredulity, feeling yourself getting warm.

His red eyes crinkled. "Don't you want to ask me something?"

Your hand reached out to caress his face, and he leaned into your touch. That simple act alone brought a small, intrigued smile to your face. "No."

"Hmph. Really?"

"What?" You traced your fingers on his sharp jaw, admiring it. "You think I'll demand you for answers about whether you're two-timing me with Miss Hunter again?"

Sylus tilted his head, relishing the way your fingers cradled his face, staying quiet, however.

You were really great at this pushing and pulling game. It irked him to see how detached you seemed now when he knew a part of you had been fazed by it days ago.

He disliked it when you tried to hide what you were feeling. He hated it even more when you doubted him for anything. But seeing how unhappy you had been lately rattled him.

"Nothing happened," he said in a low voice, catching your hand and locking eyes with you. "Would you feel better if I had told you that since the beginning?"

"Who knows?" you replied with a soft shrug, a wry smile on your lips. "You didn't tell me before."

What a vixen. The thought simmered in his mind. Mine, though.

Like a cat pouncing on its owner, Sylus suddenly moved, going straight for your lips and pinning you to the bed. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he pried your lips open with his tongue.

Yet despite it all, you felt how gentle he was. The Sylus from before would just fuck you senseless and be done with it, but the one with you now... he treated you with an unexpected tenderness, as if savoring every second with you.

He pulled away only when you were breathless, the saliva string between your lips breaking as he gave you a moment to gasp for air. His gaze softened, lingering on your flushed face, a satisfied smile curling on his lips.

"You will see for yourself tomorrow. Tonight, however..." he trailed off, his lips hovering just above yours.

But you placed one hand on his chest and another on his neck, looking up at him with bleary eyes, the vulnerability in your gaze tugging at something within him.

"Actually, I'm a bit exhausted..." You found his intense gaze and blinked slowly. "So, can you be not as rough?"

"Ha." Sylus let out a snicker at your request, taking the hand you had on his chest and pressing a soft kiss on it.

What a precious little thing you are. Your face right now... It was a look he couldn’t resist, one that made him want to protect you and ruin you, all at once.

His smirk lingered. "Of course, sweetie. I'll go easy on you tonight."

And true to his word, he didn't break his promise.

Even as he pinned both your wrists above your head, capturing your lips in a heated kiss—

—as he dived between your legs, his tongue skillfully devouring your clit—

—and as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

And later, when he pulled you into his arms and murmured softly until you drifted to sleep.

When you woke up the next morning, it was because of two things.

One— it was freezing. Your thin nightgown was definitely no match against the biting chill of a winter morning.

And two— Sylus wasn't here.

You wondered where he could have gone as it was his bedtime, but as you pulled the comforter closer to keep yourself from shivering, something caught your eye.

It took you a full three seconds to process it.

There was a ring on your finger.

"Huh...?" You were jolted awake by the sight of the glittering ruby. It was intricate, yet strangely nostalgic, reminding you of Sylus' eyes. How? Why?

You immediately turned to the nightstand, your gaze landing on a small jewelry box sitting neatly atop it. You scrambled for it, the name of the jeweler embossed on the lid caught your attention. It wasn’t from anywhere in N109 Zone.

It clicked to you at all once. So, that was why he was with Miss Hunter?

But more than that, what caught your heart was when you flipped it open and found a note inside, with a scrawled handwriting you would never mistake for anyone else's—

Because forever is too long and boring to be spent alone. So, your answer is…?

[rafedarling]

I know Drew and his wife are champ when it comes to parenting Rustyn. However, I love to imagine the first month with Rustyn, when he cried all night and Drew and his wife had no idea why he was crying. When the doctor told them that the reason he cried was because he was having colic, his wife felt very sad and angry to herself for not knowing earlier that her baby was in pain 🥹

since my request are closed. i planning to make it a bit more like a drabble. enjoy!!

COLIC

It’s 2:33 a.m. when you heard Rustyn’s cries. You groaned softly, starting to rise, but Drew’s hand gently stopped you.

“I’ll get him,” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

A moment later, Drew handed Rustyn to you. You tried feeding him, but he wasn’t hungry. His diaper was clean, and rocking him back and forth didn’t seem to help either. None of it work. His cries were different tonight urgent and constant.

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, your voice heavy with worry.

Drew rubbed his face, trying to stay calm.

“We’re figuring this out, babe. Let’s take him to the doctor tomorrow, okay? He’ll be fine.”

You nodded, reluctantly letting Drew take Rustyn to rock him back to sleep.

The next morning, you and Drew sat anxiously in the doctor’s office. After a thorough examination, the doctor smiled kindly.

“Rustyn has colic,” she explained.

“It’s common and not dangerous, but it can be uncomfortable. His digestive system is still developing, and that’s likely causing the crying spells.”

Your heart sank.

“He’s been in pain, and I didn’t realize,” you said, tears filling your eyes.

The doctor’s reassuring smile didn’t quite reach you. Drew immediately took your hand, his grip firm.

“Y/N, stop blaming yourself,” he said gently.

“We’re learning. Rustyn’s okay, and we’re doing our best.”

The doctor gave you tips to burping him more often, using anti-colic bottles, and soothing techniques which you eagerly absorbed.

Back home, you felt the guilt creeping in again as Rustyn fussed in Drew’s arms.

“I should’ve known,” you said softly.

“He was in pain, and I didn’t do anything.”

Drew crossed the room, sitting beside you.

“You’re an amazing mom,” he said firmly.

“No one expects us to know everything. We’re figuring this out together.”

That night, Rustyn cried again, but with the doctor’s advice in mind, you and Drew worked together. It didn’t stop the crying completely, but you felt more confident and less alone.

As Drew rocked Rustyn to sleep, he whispered to you, “We’ve got this, babe. We’re his parents. And there’s nothing we can’t handle together.”

You smiled through the exhaustion, finally believing it.

[amphitriteswife]

Stay the night

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife reader

Warning: mild nudity, shits ass

Summary: Geta finds himself seeking your comfort once again after finding out about general Acacius’ betrayal.

Note: I love crying pathetic hurt Geta also its implied sex not the real thing yk

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Geta feels conflicted. His hands pulling on his ginger colored hair. He was pacing back and forth between his bed and the door. His robe feels sticky because of the earlier sweat that had now turned cool. What should he do? What can he do? He feels nervous. No not even. He feels afraid. Where are you? He just put Caracalla to bed after his crash out against general Acacius and he felt suspicious of the Macrinus. He doesn’t know who to trust. Who speaks the truth? Who is genuinely on his side? Who is loyal? Who is actually helping him and not planning to overthrow him? He knows his position is weak. But he’s trying! He wants to rule along side his brother, but his disease makes it very hard to. His breath took up a pace and so did his steps. He got even more impatient with every second. He can hear his heart thumping in his ears. Were you asleep? Did you talk to the Macrinus? Did you also plan to overthrow him? To betray him? To take the throne he knows he isn’t fit for? No. He can’t think of you like that. You’re loyal to him. He knows it. He’s just being hysterical. You’ve always been there by his side. You were the bridge between him and the Roman citizens, you gave him advice to keep the people happy, to make sure they’re fed and safe even if it meant that the elites sometimes disagreed. Please come soon, his head felt as if it might explode from all the thoughts.

Luckily for him he finally heard the faint sounds of rinkels. His eyes immediately reacted to the sound. They were bells. Tiny bells. He recognized them instantly. Only you wore ankle bracelets with bells, a gift you had received from him on your wedding night. You wore it quite a lot and only took it off when you went to the bed house. His eyes caught the sight of your feet. Then your ankle bracelet and then finally to your face. You didn’t wear any make up and your hair was slightly disheveled. He woke you up with his summoning. He felt guilty…he feels selfish for calling you while you needed your own sleep too.

‘I’m sorry for waking you up empress.’

‘It’s fine…did you need something from me at this hour? emperor Geta?’

Your voice was groggy. It made him feel even more guilty. He took a few breaths before he sat down on the bed. A rather vulnerable silence followed before he started to speak in a soft voice. His eyes didn’t meet yours anymore and his head was slightly turned away as if he felt ashamed of what he was about to say. The hand that was gripping his robe seemed to tremble slightly. It was pitch black and the middle of the night. He shouldn’t be having a conversation with you. The both of you should’ve been asleep. Nothing about the betrayal should’ve even existed. He wishes it was all just a cruel prank. There must be a reason. Would he rather not have known? Or is it for the better? Why is it like this? What did he do wrong? What should he tell you? The truth? But it’ll only prove that he makes poor choices as an emperor.

‘Stay…just for tonight please?’

He sounds pathetic. He didn’t mean for his voice to break mid sentence. He didn’t mean to tear up. He wanted to keep it hidden. He didn’t want to tell you what wrong. He didn’t want to feel this way. He kept his head low. The crown was missing, it was just his wavy orange hair. The robe was slightly exposing part of his chest and body. The request sounded simple. In any other moment he would’ve demanded it from you. Ordered you to obey him. But now he hadn’t. Now it sounded small as if it could break. Even after you two were wed, you stayed in different rooms. Geta never minded it as he usually found his own company with others wherever he liked. He never asked you to be in his other than having intercourse what you usually declined.

‘Did something happen my Emperor?’

The question made him sniffle a bit and wipe his face. He really doesn’t want to tell you. He doesn’t want to he weak in front of you. Both of his hands grabbed your robe. His own falling open in the middle of it. He looked at you with a rather pleading gaze. His eyes blood shot red and a his cheeks were a little glistening because of his tears. His hands wete trembling slightly yet he hadn’t said a single word. You didn’t really know what is was, shame to ask for help? Embarrassment? Well, it didn’t really matter which one. As long as he didn’t cry anymore.

‘I…don’t wish to think about such matters more than I already do empress, as long as you’re here…it’s more than enough for me.’

Those words made you raise an eyebrow. So there is something wrong but he just isn’t ready to tell you now. Got it. He’s also tugging on your hand like soke kid. How cute. Despite the pathetic and disheveled state he is in, he’s rather cute. Like a puppy. You wouldn’t tell him that ofcourse. It’s not like you’re sadistic. Your hands reached out for his, letting your fingertips glide across his knuckled which made him loosen his grip. He took a few breaths before he finally let go of your robe and sat back on the bed. He guided you to also join him in his bed which was bug enough for the both if you. He laid back on the bed, his eyes looking at the ceiling and his robe still open.

‘Please make me forget about it all, my empress.’

[creamflix]

(various) jujutsu kaisen men x female reader; 18+ content (MINORS OR BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS dni or follow, you'll be blocked), NSFW UNDER THE CUT (hence why it is so short), established relationship, sexy time!!! (unprotected sex, creampies, breeding kink, facials, mating press !!, oral [f. & m receiving separate], overstimulation + orgasm denial, missionary [surprising], whiney choso, mirror sex, grinding/humping, riding shiu’s fingers [and him] !!, mean!dom shiu, degradation, service top nanami <3, titty fucking !!, backshots, sort of pet play), cat ears duh, some characters seem ooc sorry includes (seperate): gojo satoru, suguru geto, ryomen sukuna, choso kamo, shiu kong, toji fushiguro, nanami kento, ino takuma – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

GOJO SATORU’s antics always kept you guessing, but this? this was a whole new level.

you barely had time to process it when he casually pulled out his own custom-made cat ears — fluffy and white, perfectly matching his snow-colored hair. his signature smirk stretched across his lips as he teased, “cute, right? but i think you should wear the ones you bought for me.” the mischief in his cerulean eyes was unmistakable, practically daring you to say something, but before you knew it, you were the one wearing them, too stunned to argue.

“now we’re matching,” he cooed, stepping closer, his thumb brushing over your cheek in that playful, disarming way that always left you feeling flushed. you should’ve known better than to fall for it — gojo never did anything halfway.

the fluffy ears on your head shifted slightly as he leaned in, his own custom pair perched snugly atop his white hair, making the whole thing even more ridiculous. but when he kissed you, your body melted into his hands, your earlier amusement vanishing as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours. and before you knew it, he had you pinned beneath him, legs thrown over his broad shoulders, folding you into the meanest mating press imaginable.

his cock slammed into you, stretching you so wide and so deep you couldn’t even think straight. your back arched from the bed, the cat ears on top of your head sliding a little, but gojo’s sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing. “careful, kitty,” he groaned, grabbing your hips roughly as he drove himself deeper inside you. “don’t want those cute ears to fall off now, do we?”

you could barely respond, too cock-drunk to care about anything else — too lost in the relentless, punishing pace of his thrusts. every time he pulled out, your walls clenched around him, begging for more, and he gave it to you without hesitation. his cock filled you perfectly, making you feel like you were made for him. all you could do was take it, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as the fluffy ears on both of your heads bounced with every thrust.

“fuck — you’re takin’ me so well, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust as he kept his brutal rhythm, his cock bullying your walls. “always knew you’d be perfect f’me. you love this, huh? love how deep i’m fuckin’ you?”

the ears wobbled on his head as he grinned down at you, his breath hot against your lips. you couldn’t even roll your eyes at his cocky attitude. his hips were moving so fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, the fluffy cat ears swaying with every snap of his hips.

“look at you,” he panted, glancing up at the ears perched on your head, his smirk widening. “you’re already fucked dumb, huh? can’t even think straight — god, you’re so cute.”

his teasing had you trembling beneath him, thighs shaking from the relentless pressure. the overstimulation made you whimper, your whole body on fire, and your arms flailed, trying to grab onto anything to ground yourself. gojo leaned in, his face inches from yours, and with each sharp thrust, those stupid white ears on his head tilted ever so slightly, making the whole thing even more absurd.

“fuckin’ adorable,” he rasped, his fingers gripping your thighs as he pounded into you harder. “bet you’re gonna look even cuter when i mess up that pretty face.”

your head lolled to the side, but the cat ears stayed perched on your head, the soft fur brushing against your hair with each rough thrust. the pressure in your core was unbearable, and the way he was filling you, splitting you open, only made it worse. you could feel the ears slipping slightly with every brutal movement, but you didn’t care — you were too far gone.

“gonna cum for me, kitty?” gojo groaned, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chased his own release, his cock twitching inside you. “gonna cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?”

your nod was weak, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body tensed. you were so close — right on the edge — and when he pushed in one last time, so deep it knocked the breath from your lungs, you fell apart, your orgasm crashing through you. you clenched around him as you came hard, crying out his name as your body trembled beneath him.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he growled, watching as you came undone, your body shuddering from the intensity. but even as your body slumped, spent and shaking, he wasn’t done with you.

just when you thought it was over, gojo pulled out with a rough groan, leaving you feeling empty and dazed. your chest heaved, your legs still trembling, but you barely had time to catch your breath before he was fisting his cock in his hand, his eyes locked onto your face.

“open up,” he commanded, and you barely had a second to comply before hot, thick ropes of cum shot from his cock, painting your face in messy streaks. some of it landed on your lips, your cheeks, and — of course —  splattered right onto the fluffy cat ears perched on your head. gojo let out a low, satisfied groan, still stroking himself as the last of his cum dripped down onto your flushed skin.

“fuck,” he muttered, grinning as he surveyed the mess he made of you. “you look so fuckin’ cute with my cum all over your face. and those ears…” he let out a soft laugh, reaching out to flick one of the ears on your head, now slick with his release. “guess i’ll need to clean you up, huh?”

you couldn’t even respond, your mind still foggy and your body wrecked, the weight of everything hitting you all at once. but through the haze, you caught the glint of amusement in gojo’s eyes as he tilted his head, his own cat ears still perched on his head, white and pristine despite the mess he’d made of you.

“my pretty little kitty,” he murmured, thumb brushing your cheek to wipe some of the cum away, only to smear it further. and even though you were completely ruined, face dripping with his cum and your own cat ears now a sticky mess, you couldn’t help but smile — because GOJO SATORU always knew how to ruin you in the most satisfying way.

SUGURU GETO is a busy man.

being a cult leader and all, he has plenty of responsibilities that keep him preoccupied. the idea of him wearing cat ears? hilarious, sure, but also something you never dared bring up around him. he’d just tease you about it, probably call you silly or kiddish. not in a mean way — just amused, like he always is when you have your playful moments.

so when you step out of the shower one evening and notice your plush cat ears missing from the closet, confusion hits. where could they have gone?

"hey, suguru," you call out, towel wrapped around you. "have you seen a, uh… hairband?" you hesitate, trying not to sound too suspicious.

and then there he is, standing casually in the doorway, those missing cat ears perched perfectly on top of his head. the look on his face? nothing short of a shit-eating grin, smug and amused as hell.

your jaw practically drops.

"looking for these?" he asks, voice smooth as he leans against the doorframe, fingers lazily tapping the cat ears like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

“you —” you blink, still processing what you’re seeing. suguru geto, cult leader, with cat ears on his head. and somehow, he manages to pull it off, making it both ridiculous and stupidly attractive at the same time.

he laughs, low and teasing, stepping closer until he’s towering over you. "couldn’t resist. you left them in plain sight, after all," he says, his fingers brushing your chin as he tilts your head up to meet his gaze. his eyes sparkle with amusement, even after what must’ve been a long, exhausting day.

and before you can even get another word out, he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours with a slow, heated kiss. his hands slide down to grip your hips, his body pressed flush against yours. you pull back just slightly, panting, still catching glimpses of those damn cat ears sitting on his head. "you’re seriously gonna wear those while we—"

"why not?" he interrupts, his lips curling into a smirk as he starts pushing you back toward the bed. "i think they suit me."

and damn it, you hate to admit it, but as his hands wander and his body covers yours, cat ears and all, you can’t deny how hot it is. something about his calm yet commanding presence paired with that playful touch of absurdity just works, and now you're the one in over your head.

he has you pinned to the bed, his large hands gripping your thighs as he slowly works his way between them. the cat ears are still perched perfectly on his head, the image almost absurd — yet there’s nothing funny about the way his mouth moves against you. slow, deliberate, with that same smirk he’s been wearing all night. every flick of his tongue has you gasping, trembling beneath him, the pressure building in a way that’s almost too much.

“s-suguru —” you breathe, your hands instinctively flying down to his head, fingers tangling in his dark hair. it’s overwhelming, the way his mouth feels, and without thinking, you try to push him off — just for a second, just to catch your breath. but instead of his hair, your hand accidentally tugs at the soft, plush cat ears still sitting on his head.

he pulls back just enough to look up at you, one eyebrow raised, his lips glistening, an amused grin forming on his face. "that's bad manners," he says in that deep, smooth voice of his. "tugging at my ears like that? guess you need to be taught a lesson."

before you can even apologize or respond, he’s diving back in, his grip on your thighs tightening as he doubles down. his tongue moves faster, more insistent now, teasing every sensitive spot as you arch against him. your whimpers turn into full-blown moans, your body shaking under the relentless pressure.

"s-suguru — please," you gasp, but he doesn’t let up. if anything, the smugness in his eyes only grows as he watches you fall apart under his touch.

“you asked for this,” he murmurs against you between long, languid strokes. “don’t think i’ll stop until you’ve learned your lesson.”

and with that, he pushes you past the edge, overstimulating you. every brush of his tongue makes your legs twitch, makes your mind spin, but he doesn’t stop. not even for a second. he’s intent on keeping you there, stuck in that overwhelming pleasure until you can barely think straight, each wave of sensation crashing over you until it’s all too much.

"oh god — suguru, i —" you cry out, hands gripping the sheets, but there’s no mercy in his eyes as he continues, his deep chuckle vibrating against your core.

"that's it," he murmurs, voice low and teasing. "now, you’ll think twice before pulling on my ears again."

getting RYOMEN SUKUNA to wear cat ears? good luck.

he doesn’t care if you waited in line for hours to snag the cutest pair, doesn’t care that it’s the latest trend on tiktok or whatever else you find adorable in that stupid phone of yours. the king of curses?

yeah, he’s not about to be caught in something so ridiculous.

“no way,” he says, arms crossed, leaning back against the wall with a scoff, half-amused and half-annoyed. you pout, sulking dramatically as you stare at him. “please? just try them on! it’ll be fun!” you add, your voice dripping with charm. he only raises an eyebrow, clearly unamused. you even throw your phone across the room, desperate to prove your point. “see? no pics, i promise! just for a second?”

but he’s still a hard no. “you’re really trying to convince me to wear cat ears?” he scoffs, his deep voice dripping with disbelief.

so you pull out your secret weapon, aiming straight for his ego. “maybe you're just a pussy, or even worse - not man enough to wear these.”

the moment the words leave your mouth, you can practically feel the heat radiating from him. sukuna’s eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing as he stands up, muscles tensing. he’s ticked off, and in an instant, he snatches the cat ears from your hands, wearing them with a devilish grin that sends a thrill down your spine. “show you how man i can be, huh?”

before you can react, he hoists you over his heavily tattooed shoulder, the movement both surprising and exhilarating. your heart races as he strides to the bedroom, his grip firm and possessive. you know you’ve crossed a line, and there’s no backing down now.

once inside, he tosses you onto the bed, the soft sheets contrasting with the hard planes of his body. “you wanted me to wear them, right?” he says, his voice a low growl, filled with mischief. “well, now you get to see what kind of man i really am.”

with that, he moves between your legs, his presence looming over you like a predator. he takes a moment to admire you, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leans down, brushing his lips against yours. his kisses are slow and teasing, igniting a fire deep within you, but he doesn’t linger. instead, he pulls away just enough to watch your reaction, those cat ears perched adorably on his head.

“see? still a man,” he growls, his voice dripping with confidence as he finally aligns himself against you. he pushes in slowly, filling you up completely, the stretch making you gasp. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

he begins to move, thrusting into you with a primal intensity, each powerful stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. the cat ears bob with each movement, an absurd contrast to the raw, overwhelming desire radiating from him. you can’t help but giggle at the sight, but that only fuels his determination to dominate you further.

“you think this is funny?” he growls, his voice low and rough, a smirk dancing on his lips. “let’s see how you feel about it now.” he quickens his pace, each thrust hitting deeper, more deliberately, pushing you closer to the edge.

the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your breathy moans and his deep growls. sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers filthy praises, the warmth of his breath making your skin tingle. “you’re perfect, taking me so well,” he murmurs, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust that leaves you gasping.

your body responds instinctively, arching into him as pleasure courses through you. “sukuna, please,” you beg, eyes rolling back as he angles his hips just right, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you.

“please what?” he taunts, his lips curling into a smirk. “beg for it.”

“please, i need you,” you whimper, desperate to cum, but he only laughs, a dark, rumbling sound that reverberates through your chest.

“not yet,” he says, the dominant glint in his eyes igniting even more heat within you. he increases his pace, relentless and unyielding, each thrust sending you closer to the brink. the world outside disappears; all that exists is the pleasure building between you and the man above you.

with one particularly deep thrust, you feel the familiar wave of ecstasy crashing over you, pulling you under as you let out a loud moan. “sukuna, i’m —”

“that’s it. let it go,” he growls, his voice rough as he cums inside you. he holds you tight against him, the cat ears jostling wildly as he rides out your orgasms together.

as you both come down from your high, he rolls onto his side, pulling you close and grinning down at you with that unmistakable satisfaction in his eyes. “next time, think twice before challenging me,” he whispers, a mischievous glint still shining in his eyes, and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all — because despite the ridiculousness of the situation, you wouldn’t change a thing.

it starts off innocently enough.

you hand CHOSO KAMO the pair of black cat ears, grinning as you place them on his head. he tilts his head slightly, fingers gently brushing against the fuzzy material, eyes full of confusion.

“what are these for?” he asks, his voice soft and unsure, the way he always is when it comes to trying new things with you. his inexperience is clear, but he’s willing to trust you, no matter how strange things might seem to him.

you giggle, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. “just something cute for you to wear, baby. it matches your hair.”

he hums in response, the thought that this might be some sort of human tradition when in love lingering in the back of his mind. so, he wears them proudly, even though he doesn’t fully understand why.

it’s only when you’re both tangled in bed later that the conversation takes a sharp turn. you’re teasing him, fingers running through his hair, when you joke, “maybe you should keep the cat ears on next time we have sex.”

you’re not entirely serious, just poking fun, but something in choso’s brain clicks. the way his pupils dilate, his breathing stutters — it’s almost too obvious that something has snapped inside him.

“you… you want me to wear them while we…?” his voice is deeper, laced with confusion and a growing intensity. his fingers tighten on your waist as he looks at you, trying to piece it all together.

you nod, not quite sure where his mind is going, but you’re intrigued. “yeah, you’d look cute.”

he swallows hard, and it’s then you notice the flush creeping up his neck. “you mean… you want me to breed you?”

your eyes widen at his sudden shift, but before you can even think of correcting him, his hands grip you tighter, pulling you closer. “you… want me to cum inside you. fill you up.” his voice is trembling, almost desperate. “that’s what the ears are for, right? to make me… like an animal?”

your breath hitches, realizing where this is going, but it’s too late to stop him now. the thought of breeding you has consumed him, overtaken any sense of clarity. you feel the shift in his pace, the way his hips move with newfound urgency, the soft grunts he lets out as he sinks deeper inside you.

“baby —” you gasp, your body arching under him. “i didn’t mean —”

“no,” he whines, his breath hot against your ear. “please. please, i have to. i have to breed you. i need to.”

and god, the desperation in his voice is enough to make you forget everything else. the way he’s looking at you, eyes filled with need, hips trembling as he pushes into you again and again, it’s impossible to deny him.

but still, when you feel that familiar tightness building in your core, you manage to pant, “choso, pull out —”

his response is immediate, a choked, whiny sob that makes your heart stutter. “no,” he begs, voice cracking. “please. i — i need to cum inside you. please, let me fill you up. how else am i supposed to breed you?”

you don’t stand a chance against that. the broken desperation in his voice, the way his body is shaking, so close to losing control. you grab his shoulders, pulling him down to you, whispering breathlessly, “okay, baby, cum inside me. give me all of it.”

the sob that leaves his throat as he cums inside you is nothing short of pathetic, but god, it’s beautiful. his hips stutter as he finishes in you, filling you up just like he wanted, his breathing erratic, body trembling with the intensity of it all.

and when it’s over, when he’s still panting, buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, you can’t help but smile at him. “you really thought i wanted you to breed me just because of the cat ears?”

he nods weakly, still catching his breath. “i… i just thought that’s what you meant. i’m sorry if i —”

you press a kiss to his lips, cutting off his apology. “it’s okay, baby. you did good.”

he blushes, burying his face in your neck, still too shy to meet your eyes after all of that.

SHIU KONG is a busy man.

he loves you, but sometimes he’s genuinely lost on where you get all of your ideas from. shit, maybe he should start doomscrolling, just like toji cheekily suggests, so he can keep up with your endless train of thought. honestly, he's never seen anything quite like the cat ears you got out for him, and he’s so amused when you place them on his head without any warning while he’s leaning back against the balcony railing, cigarette dangling between his lips.

“what’s this about now, huh?” he chuckles, smoke lazily drifting into the air as he flicks his eyes toward the little ears sitting atop his head, his lips curling in amusement.

you grin, walking over and giving him a playful wink. “just thought you’d look cute in them. and guess what? i was right.”

shiu huffs out a laugh, exhaling another cloud of smoke. “cute, huh? didn’t know that was my style.”

before he can say more, you cheekily suggest, “how about we include it during sex?”

that makes him pause mid-drag, almost choking on the smoke. this? you want to include this in bed? sure, he’s used to matching your demands in bed — pushing limits and meeting you at every wild request — but this? this was... new.

“you’re really something else, princess,” he mutters, shaking his head with an amused grin. but shiu kong isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

which is exactly why you found yourself seated on his lap right now, facing the mirror, your legs spread wide as you grind against his hand, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you, but never giving you what you need. your breath hitches as you move your hips, trying to get more friction, more anything, but shiu’s grip on your waist is firm, holding you back just enough to drive you crazy.

shiu exhales a slow, steady stream of smoke, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he lounges back, completely unfazed by the cat ears sitting atop his head. “you’ve really outdone yourself this time, princess,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice as his fingers continue to toy with your clit, slow and lazy, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to satisfy.

“fuck, shiu,” you whine, biting your lip as you catch his eyes in the reflection, the cat ears on his head somehow making him look even more smug. “don’t tease me like this.”

he hums, taking another drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “tease you?” he chuckles softly, his fingers brushing against your clit with agonizing slowness. “i thought you liked this, baby. isn’t this what you wanted?”

you can feel the heat pooling between your legs, the need building with every slow circle of his fingers, but he’s not giving in — he’s making you work for it, and it’s driving you wild. “yeah, but — shit — i didn’t think you’d make me wait this long,” you gasp, your body trembling as you rock your hips, trying to get more of his touch, trying to feel him inside you. “please, shiu…”

he smirks around the cigarette, watching as you squirm on his lap, your desperation obvious in the way your hips move, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “look at you,” he mutters, voice low and teasing as his fingers slip lower, brushing against your entrance but never pushing in. “so needy, huh? you gonna show me how bad you want it, princess?”

you let out a soft whimper, nodding as you grind down harder, trying to push his fingers inside you, but he holds back, still teasing, still making you wait. “please,” you breathe, your voice shaky, barely holding onto control as his fingers keep circling your clit, slow and torturous. “i’ll do anything.”

he raises an eyebrow, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray beside him, his free hand sliding up your thigh as his fingers finally push inside you, making you gasp. “anything, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes your whole body shudder. “then show me, baby. ride my fingers.”

you don’t need any more encouragement. you move your hips, grinding down onto his hand, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you ride his fingers, the slick sounds of your arousal filling the room. the cat ears on shiu's head bob slightly with your movement, and you can’t help but let out a soft giggle at how ridiculous the situation is — your rough, no-nonsense boyfriend wearing cat ears while toying with you — but the second the sound leaves your lips, shiu’s grip tightens on your waist.

“what’s so funny, huh?” he growls softly, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you, making you gasp. “you think this is a game?”

“n-no —” you stammer, but your words are cut off by a sharp moan as he curls his fingers again, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. “fuck, shiu, i didn’t mean —”

“didn’t mean what?” he interrupts, his voice low and dangerous as he picks up the pace, his fingers thrusting into you harder, faster. “you think i’m here for your entertainment, princess?”

your head is spinning, your body trembling as you try to keep up with his pace, your hips grinding down onto his hand as your breath comes in desperate, ragged gasps. “n-no, i just —” 

“just what?” he growls, his voice thick with lust as his fingers fuck into you mercilessly. “tell me, baby. tell me how bad you want it.”

your mind is a haze of pleasure, and all you can do is whimper, your hands gripping his thighs as you try to keep yourself upright, the feeling of his fingers inside you overwhelming. “i want it,” you gasp, your voice barely coherent as the pleasure builds inside you, your hips moving frantically against his hand. “i want you so bad, shiu, please —”

he smirks, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulls you down harder onto his fingers, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “good girl. now, if you’re real lucky,” he purrs, his breath hot against your neck, “i might just give you what you really want.”

with that, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you gasping, desperate for more, and you whimper at the loss of contact. but before you can protest, shiu is already undoing his belt, his cock springing free as he flips you over to face him, gripping your waist as he positions you on top of him.

“think you deserve it, princess?” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust as he presses the tip of his cock against your dripping cunt, teasing you just like before, not giving you what you need just yet.

“y-yes,” you breathe, your whole body trembling as you try to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, making you wait, making you beg for it. 

“we’ll see,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror as he finally, finally thrusts up into you, his cock stretching you open as he fills you completely.

you let out a loud moan, your hands flying to his chest for support as you grind down on him, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. “fuck, shiu,” you gasp, your voice breathless as you move your hips, riding him just like he told you to, the pleasure building with every thrust. 

his grip on your waist is bruising, his thrusts deep and hard as he watches you in the mirror, his eyes dark with lust. “that’s it,” he groans, his voice rough as he pulls you down onto his cock, his hips slamming into yours with each movement. “show me how much you need it.”

and you do, your body moving on its own as you ride him, the pleasure overwhelming, your mind going blank as he fucks you harder, faster, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. 

“good girl,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you fall apart on his cock, your moans growing louder, more desperate with each thrust. “ya gonna cum for me, princess?”

you nod frantically, your body trembling as you feel yourself nearing the edge, your hands gripping his shoulders as you ride him harder, faster, desperate to cum. 

“then cum for me,” he growls, his voice rough as he thrusts up into you one last time, sending you spiraling over the edge. your whole body shudders, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as you moan his name, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, your mind blank with pleasure. he follows right after, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you as he cums, filling you up. 

you both stay like that for a moment, breathing heavily, your bodies pressed together as the aftershocks of your orgasms ripple through you. shiu pulls you close, his lips brushing against your neck as he chuckles softly. 

“you’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, his voice filled with lazy affection as he reaches up, adjusting the crooked cat ears on his head with a smirk. “but i guess i’ll keep up with your little games… just this once.” 

you giggle softly, still catching your breath, as you lean back against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you smile. 

“just this once, huh?” you tease, already knowing better. 

he smirks, pressing a kiss to your neck as his hand lazily trails down your body, already teasing you again. 

“we’ll see,” he mutters, his voice low and teasing.

TOJI FUSHIGURO walks through the door after a long day, eyes immediately landing on you sprawled out on the sofa. the sight of you, wearing those cute little cat ears and a sly smile, makes him chuckle low under his breath. you’re always pulling these little stunts, trying to get a rise out of him. but when you suggest that he wears them?

that gets him laughing.

“you want me to wear those?” he scoffs, clearly amused, but when he sees the way your eyes sparkle with mischief, he knows where this is headed. “fine... just for a few minutes, baby. just for you.”

he lets you place the cat ears on his head, your fingers brushing through his hair while you bite your lip in excitement. what starts as playful amusement quickly turns into something far more charged when you straddle his lap, your hips grinding down against the bulge already forming in his pants. he’s got this grin on his face, one that tells you he’s onto you, knows exactly what you’re up to. “so this was your plan all along, huh?” he murmurs, voice dropping low as he leans in, lips brushing your ear. “wanted me to fuck you with these ears on, didn’t you, kitty?”

the way your breath hitches gives you away, and it’s all the encouragement he needs. his hand wraps around your throat, pulling you closer so his lips hover just over yours. “you’re such a little tease, always needing something to keep that mouth busy,” he groans, eyes dark as they roam over your flushed face. before you even register it, you’re off his lap and on your knees between his legs, fingers working to unbuckle his belt with shaking hands, already imagining how full your mouth is going to be in just a few seconds.

he watches you with those predatory eyes, and the second you take him in your mouth, that smirk of his only grows. “fuck... just like that, kitty. always so eager to choke on my cock,” he grunts, voice rough as his hand tangles in your hair, guiding your movements. the way you gag around him has his cock throbbing in your throat, and when you look up at him, eyes watery and desperate, he can’t help but lose it.

that’s when he grabs the cat ears and puts them on your head instead. “there... that’s where these belong,” he says, voice dripping with satisfaction as he watches the way you struggle to keep up with his pace, his cock growing even harder as he thrusts into your mouth. “look at you, all pretty with those ears on, taking my cock like a good little slut.”

the way he twitches in your mouth makes you moan around him, your eyes rolling back as you feel the heat pool between your legs. he’s so big, so thick, stretching your throat until you can barely breathe, and yet you can’t get enough. you’re whimpering around him, saliva dripping down your chin as you struggle to keep up with his rough pace, and toji’s practically growling above you, watching you come undone. “god, you’re such a fucking mess, kitty. love how you look with my cock down your throat. bet you can’t wait to get fucked, huh?”

and as much as you want to, you can’t respond. not with your mouth so full, not with him relentlessly fucking your face like he owns it. but you don’t need to say a word, because the way you’re gripping his thighs, the way your body trembles, says everything he needs to know.

“come on, baby. let’s get you up here so i can fuck that pussy,” he groans, pulling you off his cock with a wet pop, the sight of you with those ears and the dazed look in your eyes nearly making him lose control right then and there. “i’m gonna fuck you so good, you won’t be able to think of anything but my cock for days.”

NANAMI KENTO loves you to bits and pieces.

he's always ready to indulge in your antics, no matter how ridiculous they might seem. because let's face it – you bring a light into his life that no one else ever has. so when you tossed him a pair of cat ears with a teasing grin, he raised an eyebrow. sure, they were interesting. he didn’t exactly get the appeal of wearing them himself, but when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, the way the little ears perched on his head looked… silly.

you burst into laughter as he stared at his reflection, lips twitching with the faintest hint of amusement.

“you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to,” you giggle, already expecting him to take them off.

but instead, nanami shrugs. “i don’t mind.”

you blink, surprised, but don’t push any further. he humors you like this more often than you expect. indulges you. and in the back of his mind, he knows how much joy it brings you, how you light up every time he goes along with your little whims.

and then, out of nowhere, you joke, "you should wear them while you fuck me."

he almost chokes on his tea. a full, sharp cough as his eyes widen slightly. "excuse me?"

you’re quick to backtrack, waving your hands in the air, heat rising to your cheeks. "i was joking! you don’t have to, kento, seriously —"

but nanami’s already looking at you like he’s considering it, really considering it. he sets his cup down slowly, fixing his gaze on you in that calm, steady way of his.

"you’re serious about this?" he asks, voice low, and it makes a shiver crawl down your spine. you nod sheepishly, biting your lip.

"only if you're comfortable with it…" your voice trails off, but there's a glint in his eye now, something unreadable, and your pulse quickens.

he stands, crossing the room in that effortless way he does, and suddenly he’s in front of you, towering over you. his hand reaches up to brush your hair behind your ear, and he leans down to murmur in your ear, "if it’s something you want, i’ll do it."

your breath catches, a soft gasp leaving your lips as his words sink in. he’s serious. nanami kento, in all his quiet, thoughtful glory, is seriously considering fucking you with those silly little cat ears on his head.

"you… you don’t have to…" you manage to stammer, but he shakes his head.

"no, i want to," he says, and there’s something dark, something teasing in the way he says it. "if that’s what you want, you’ll get it."

he steps back, his fingers trailing down your arm before he turns, walking toward the bed. he picks up the cat ears again, and without breaking eye contact with you, he places them back on his head, the corners of his lips quirking up just a fraction.

"now," he says, his voice dropping an octave as he unbuttons the top of his shirt, "why don’t you come here and show me how much you want this?"

the heat between your legs grows unbearable as you scramble to your feet, already breathless just from the way he looks at you. the cat ears might’ve been a joke, but the way nanami's towering figure looms over you now, the promise in his voice, the tension thickening the air between you — it’s anything but funny.

he leans down, catching your lips in a heated kiss, his hands gripping your hips, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes your throat when he presses you against the bed.

"i'm going to take care of you," he whispers, the cat ears still on his head as he kisses down your neck. his mouth trails lower, hot and slow, as his hands roam your body, and your breath hitches at the way his fingers trace the hem of your underwear. "just like you asked."

you can't help but laugh breathlessly, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer. “you look ridiculous,” you gasp, as he nips at your skin.

he pulls back slightly, cat ears tilted just a bit from the motion, his gaze dark and intense as he looks down at you. “maybe,” he admits, voice a rough whisper, “but you're the one who's going to be moaning my name, so i think i win.”

nanami never could resist you — especially not when you’re looking up at him with that glint in your eye, biting your lip, and practically begging without saying a word. the cat ears are still perched on his head, a little crooked, but he doesn’t seem to care as he leans over you, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“you sure about this?” his voice is low, teasing. he knows damn well what you want, but he still waits for your nod, that soft sound of anticipation leaving your lips.

“yes,” you whisper, breathless, as your chest rises and falls under his gaze. “want you to fuck my tits.”

the smirk that tugs at his lips is so rare, so fleeting, but it’s there —and it’s enough to make you feel like you’re about to melt into the mattress. his hand trails down your body, lingering over your breasts, cupping them in his large hands before his fingers gently squeeze.

“whatever you want,” he murmurs, sliding down the bed slightly, positioning himself between your legs. his cock, already heavy and hard, brushes against you, and you shiver at the warmth of it, the promise of what’s coming.

he adjusts the cat ears on his head with one hand, giving you a look of pure, focused concentration that almost makes you giggle, but the sight of his cock, so close to your chest, quickly wipes the amusement from your mind.

nanami watches your reaction, his eyes darkening as he presses his cock between your tits, letting out a quiet groan at the feeling. the warmth of your skin, the softness — he can’t help the low, deep sound that escapes his throat as you squeeze your breasts together around him.

“fuck…” he mutters, thrusting slowly at first, savoring the sensation as he moves between them. his gaze flickers to your face, watching how you bite your lip, eyes wide and hungry as you stare up at him. “you look so beautiful like this.”

your hands come up to cup your breasts, pressing them tighter around his length, and the way he groans at the sight of it has your stomach fluttering, heat pooling between your legs. he’s trying to stay composed, but you can tell by the way his hips jerk, the quiet groans he’s letting slip, that you’re driving him crazy.

“kento…” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper as he picks up the pace, his cock sliding through the valley of your breasts, the head of it brushing against your chin. “feels so good…”

his breath hitches, and his hands grip the headboard to steady himself as he thrusts harder, losing a bit of the careful control he’s known for. “you’re… incredible,” he mutters, voice strained. his eyes never leave your face, drinking in every expression you make, every soft moan that spills from your lips.

you squeeze your breasts tighter around him, and he lets out a harsh groan, his thrusts becoming more erratic, the cat ears now askew on his head from the way he’s moving. the sight of him like this — eyes blown wide with lust, face flushed, those ridiculous ears still perched on his head — makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire.

“kento,” you whine, the sound of his cock slick between your tits making your head spin. “want you to cum for me…”

his jaw clenches at your words, his hips snapping harder against your chest, and you feel his cock twitch between your breasts. his breath comes in ragged gasps, his movements rough and unrestrained now.

“fuck,” he growls, and the deep rumble of it sends a shiver down your spine. “gonna—”

and with a few more thrusts, he’s spilling hot and thick over your tits, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his head tilts back, the cat ears slipping just slightly as he rides out the pleasure. you watch as he tries to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes hooded and still dark with desire.

you look up at him, breathless and grinning, his cum still warm on your skin. "so," you tease, voice playful, "how’d i do?”

nanami lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he leans down to kiss you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands gently cup your face. “you,” he murmurs between kisses, “are going to be the death of me.”

he pulls back slightly, glancing down at the mess he’s made on your chest before his eyes flick back up to yours, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “i think we’re not done yet,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly, his lips brushing against your ear. “not until i’ve taken care of you too.”

INO TAKUMA is head over heels for you, no question about it. you don’t even have to finish your sentence for him to be on board. the moment you say, “taku, could you —" he’s already there with a smile on his lips, “yes, baby, anything for you.”

no hesitation. not even a second thought as he slides those cat ears on, giving you that cute little grin of his, though you know deep down he’s hanging onto your every reaction, desperate for your approval. his eyes light up when you coo at him, taking sweet, playful pov pics with your phone. the way he soaks it all in, so pleased with himself for making his pretty girlfriend happy, has your heart swelling.

what you didn’t expect, though, was for takuma to be the one who brought up wearing the ears in bed.

“you think i should keep ‘em on next time?” he asks, biting back a mischievous smile. your brain practically short-circuits at the suggestion, completely thrown off by how something so innocent, so simple, had taken such a delicious turn. but are you complaining? absolutely not.

what really catches you off guard is the next time you're fucking, and he’s standing there, not just with the cat ears, but with a cute little collar to match. it’s in your favorite color too — thoughtful as always. a small bell dangles off the front, and you’re so enamored by how sweet and sexy he looks at the same time that you can barely form a coherent thought.

“do you like it?” he murmurs, a shy but eager grin spreading across his face, waiting for you to say the words.

“you look… so fucking cute,” you breathe, and his eyes widen just slightly, a mix of bashfulness and pride swelling in his chest. he tugs you close, pressing his lips to yours, and it’s all you can think about, how badly you want him.

the next thing you know, you’re face-down, back arching, moaning into the pillow as he ruts into you from behind, the little bell on his collar chiming softly with every movement. the cold metal brushes against your skin, sending shivers up your spine, and takuma’s hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“fuck, baby,” he whimpers against your skin, his lips trailing over the sensitive spot behind your ear, nipping at your neck as he thrusts into you. each sound he makes is a quiet plea, his breath ragged and uneven, the bell ringing faintly with the rhythm of his movements.

your legs are trembling, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock hitting just right, the sound of his soft whimpers in your ear, the cold metal of the bell rubbing against your back. it’s all too much, and yet, you never want it to stop.

“you feel so good,” he moans, his voice low and breathy, his hips snapping against you harder now, desperate, needy. “fuck, you’re perfect…”

your moans mix with his, both of you lost in the moment, in each other. and when you reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he fucks you deeper, he lets out a choked sound, one that’s half-whimper, half-moan, and it drives you absolutely wild.

takuma’s hands are gripping your waist tightly, hips snapping into yours as the little bell on his collar rings with each thrust. the sound fills the room, mixing with your soft moans and the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you, and it’s driving you both crazy.

he leans further in, his lips brushing against your ear as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “look at you,” he whispers, his voice dripping with amusement, “my little kitty, taking me so well.”

you let out a small giggle, half-playful, half-winded from how good he feels, your hands leaving his hair to grip the sheets as you push back against him. “stop it, taku,” you whine, breathless, “you’re so — ugh — silly…”

his eyebrows raise, and though he’s grinning, there’s a glint in his eyes as he mockingly gasps. “oh? silly, huh?” he huffs, pretending to be offended, but you can already feel him tightening his grip on your hips, the tension in his body building as he braces himself.

“alright, baby,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “if that’s how you feel… then let’s see.”

before you can respond, his hips slam into you so hard you cry out, your whole body jerking forward as his pace becomes relentless. his cock hits deeper than before, his thrusts harder, faster, almost punishing in their intensity, and all you can do is moan, your words turning into incoherent gasps.

“w-wait —” you stammer, but your words die in your throat as he rams into you again, pulling you back by the hips until your ass is flush against him, the bell on his collar chiming wildly now with every brutal thrust.

“what’s wrong, kitty?” takuma growls, his voice heavy with lust as he keeps pounding into you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “can’t take it?”

your brain is spinning, the sensation of his cock stretching you out, the cold metal of the bell rubbing against your back, his breath hot against your skin — it’s all too much. “t-takuma!” you cry out, your nails digging into the sheets as you struggle to keep up, your words turning into breathless, broken moans. “i — fuck —"

he groans, loving how you're falling apart beneath him, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic now, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “who’s the silly one now, huh?” he growls, punctuating his words with another deep thrust, smirking at the way your back arches in response.

you’re gasping, moaning, your mind a mess, but then you feel his lips brush your ear again, his voice low and husky as he whispers, “say it for me, baby. tell me who the good kitty is.”

his words make your stomach flip, heat pooling between your legs as his thrusts drive you right to the edge. you bite your lip, your pride fighting against the desperate need building inside you, but another sharp thrust has you babbling, words slipping out before you can stop them.

“y-you are, taku,” you moan, your voice shaky, barely coherent as the pleasure overwhelms you. “you’re a good kitty, fuck — so good—”

the second those words leave your lips, takuma lets out a low, guttural moan, the sound vibrating through your skin as his grip on your hips tightens even more. he’s completely lost in it now, rutting into you harder, faster, his breath ragged, his body trembling as he chases his release.

“fuck, that’s it,” he groans, his voice rough with need, “say it again, baby.”

you can’t even think straight anymore, barely able to keep up with his pace as his cock slams into you, hitting just the right spot over and over again. “you’re a good kitty,” you repeat, your voice high and desperate, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all. “my good kitty, taku —”

the sound of your voice, those words, the way you’re completely unraveling beneath him — it’s too much for takuma to handle. he lets out a choked groan, thrusting into you one last time, deep and hard, as he cums with a shudder, his whole body shaking as he cums inside you.

he collapses onto your back, still panting, the bell on his collar giving one final soft cling as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. you’re both breathless, bodies pressed together, completely spent.

“so…” he murmurs after a moment, his voice teasing as he presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder, “who’s silly now?”

you groan, your body still tingling, but there’s no stopping the smile that spreads across your face as you reach back, ruffling his hair, the cat ears still sitting crookedly on his head.

“definitely not you, taku,” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin as he chuckles softly. “definitely not you.”

“did i do good?” he asks, a playful grin on his face as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapped around you tight.

“more than good,” you sigh, completely spent but completely content. you nuzzle against him, the warmth of his body against yours soothing, and the little chime of the bell now only adding to the softness of the moment.

and takuma? he’s just happy to make his girl feel good, cat ears and all.

my offering to you, dear reader (and my 100 followers) <3 thank you all so much for your support !! let me know how you liked this ;)

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[jasvtsc]

thirst

he looked like a caveman, that’s for sure.

his hair was a bit longer and his beard was just… huge, going in every direction possible. it was as if he hadn’t shaved in ages—well, and he technically didn’t. after all, he spent years trapped in a deep sleep in a russian lab.

so it wasn’t surprising that he had all these pent-up emotions when he woke up. he was like a bomb, ready to explode at any given moment. literally. you just weren’t sure whether it would be caused by anger, annoyance, stress or even worse—arousal. soldier boy was known not only as america’s hero but also as its sex symbol. even nowadays, women would sigh in amazement at his pictures in museums or just say how they wished they’d been born earlier. and the older ones, some that got to have that experience back in the day, kept marvelling at how amazing he was in bed and how it’d been the best night of their entire life (and all of them, of course, were married). which, of course, ben bragged about cause how else could he not?

and well, he certainly lived up to the expectations.

butcher and hughie left to get some things for him (food and drugs), so you were left alone with soldier boy, to babysit him as a precaution. and to be honest, there wasn’t much babysitting done when he already got you naked on the bed, whimpering like crazy as his head was between your legs.

at this point, you’re not even sure what led to soldier boy eating you out. you were trying to lecture him on some random topic he saw on tv and acted like an ignorant jackass, but then you started arguing and making random bets. suddenly, you felt that he was about to blow something up again, so you just acted out and kissed him.

the rest was history.

he wanted a good fuck and you certainly needed it.

“you taste so good, baby,” he growled between your slick folds, his tongue eagerly lapping all your juices like a man dying of thirst as his long beard was tickling your skin. “i should’ve eaten this pretty pussy hours ago,” he chuckled, his lips now sucking on your clit, stimulating you even more.

you moaned and arched your back, pressing your soaked cunt into his face. you tugged on his hair, trying to get him closer and to your surprise, he didn’t protest—instead, he eagerly dug his head deeper, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud. you looked down and gasped, seeing his face buried deep between your thighs that he was squeezing tightly, and you just knew that it'd leave some dark marks on your skin.

not that you'd mind.

suddenly, he looked up at you and smiled devilishly, his face glistening with your essence. you let out a needy whine at this sight, bucking your hips towards his face, showing your clear desperation for him to get back to what he started. he only chuckled and licked his lips as his fingers prodded at your entrance, teasing you even more.

"you want to cum, baby? huh? gonna squirt all over my face?"

as if you didn't do that four times already.

a/n: inspired by this ask

[wordsinhaled]

People call Charles Edwin’s guard dog and Edwin thinks it’s going to offend him, getting more up in arms about it than Charles ever does. But it doesn’t seem to bother Charles at all. And Edwin doesn’t understand, not at first, not until Charles tells him, “So what if they think I’ll bite if they lay a finger on you? Not exactly wrong, are they?”

Suddenly, it makes sense. Why Charles takes the comments in stride. Why he seems to take pride in the suggestion.

Charles feels like Edwin should have someone who is willing to do all that for him, go that far for him—and of course that someone’ll be Charles himself. Edwin reflects that he’d never had that sort of fervent devotion from anyone, certainly not when he was alive, and no one has come close since but Charles. He reflects on how good it feels to be fundamentally seen, valued in such a way.

Still, Edwin worries—does Charles know that Edwin is just as dedicated to keeping him safe, his heart and his spectral body and his soul? That Charles is the most precious gift Edwin never dreamt to be given, and—

Does Charles know that, every day? That he’s more than his teeth? That he’s more than everything Edwin could want? That he’s sweetness and light?

It’s Charles’ loving touch that Edwin yearns for and craves, when he’s laughing harder than he ever has, in the middle of the night when the rest of the world is asleep and it’s just him and Charles in the warmly-lit office, tipping against each other on the tiny sofa that never feels cramped when it’s keeping the two of them near. The actual joke goes forgotten in the self-replenishing haze of their giggles, their shoulders knocking together, Charles’ ankle hooked around Edwin’s.

Edwin’s hand lands on Charles’ jaw, barely-there fingertips turning Charles’ head, easy, so easy, to look at him. To catch Charles’ gaze, deep and shining and—they’re so close to each other, a bit heady with leftover mirth, and Edwin will never forget that it’s Charles who moves first to press his smiling lips to Edwin’s, simple as ever, like it’s the next line in their conversation.

It knocks the breath straight out of Edwin: the breath he hasn’t needed in three-odd decades. But it’s all right because Charles’ mouth is opening against his, so right and inviting, and Charles is gasping too like he’s in the same dizzy predicament, and Edwin never wants it to end.

“Charles,” he says, “Charles, my darling, are you…?”

Charles’ eyes are dark as ink when he pulls back, only far enough to nudge his nose against Edwin’s cheek.

“Yeah,” he says, smile flashing bright like a slice of the moon. He closes his eyes, a flutter of lashes Edwin can feel against his own cheekbone, followed by the soft drag of a kiss. Then another. “Should’ve seen it, really,” Charles goes on, in between still more kisses, words said into Edwin’s skin. “‘Cause you’re it for me, Edwin, aren’t you, love? I just didn’t see. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when you first—”

“Never mind,” Edwin says, “tell me now,” and then they’re kissing once more. The testing scrape of Charles’ teeth over Edwin’s lower lip, the nibble on his upper, is tentative, too tentative, and Edwin ought to have known, he ought to have suspected… but still he doesn’t, doesn’t expect the keening, tremulous moan that tumbles out of him at the promise of it all.

Charles chuckles, the sound settling in Edwin’s belly, making a home in his chest. “You like that?” he asks. Awed. Still hesitant. The laughter from earlier still layered in Charles’ voice, along with a new sort of hoarseness, a new sort of rasp Edwin could listen to forever. “Don’t wanna put you off, do I, love…”

“I will hardly be put off, Charles. In fact, I—” Edwin swallows, convulsive and wanting, sees Charles’ focus drop to his throat, find the soft underside of his jaw as he tips his chin up. “I would not have you hold back with me. Set your hands where you wish. Your mouth—where you wish. Your…” It is his turn to close his eyes.

“My teeth,” Charles finishes for him softly. “Wherever I…?”

“Yes,” Edwin says. “Yes.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟸𝚔 || 𝐌𝐑. 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐘

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You were successful at keeping Mr. Flopsy a secret from your boyfriends...until now.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None except loads of fluff

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

You were a master of secrets. Keeping your relationship with the Marauders on the down low? Piece of cake. Sneaking into the boys' dorm after hours for late-night cuddles? Easy. But the real secret, the one that kept you on your toes every single night, was far fluffier—and far more embarrassing.

Your beloved stuffed animal.

It was a worn-out, floppy bunny you’d had since you were a kid. Its fur was matted from years of love, its ears uneven from countless bedtime adventures. You still slept with it every night, clutching it tight like a lifeline. Of course, there was no way you'd ever let your boyfriends know. They'd tease you mercilessly. Sirius, especially, with his "I’m-too-cool-for-everything" swagger, would have a field day.

You were certain you’d done an excellent job hiding your bunny… until tonight.

You all had decided to hang out at your dorm tonight and your heart picked up it's pace whenever any of them got close to the bed.

It was just your luck, then, that Peter was rummaging around on the floor, searching for a Chocolate Frog he swore he’d dropped earlier. “Where is it?” he muttered, crawling dangerously close to your bed.

You eyed him nervously, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"Maybe the frog decided to leave because it didn’t want to be eaten,” Sirius drawled from across the room, flicking the Quaffle up again.

"Very funny," Peter muttered, but then he froze. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something just under your bed. Slowly, he reached out and pulled at something soft.

Your heart dropped.

Peter tugged harder, and then—there it was, dangling by its floppy ear in his hand—your bunny. Your beloved, secret stuffed animal.

"Er…what’s this?” Peter asked, blinking at the well-worn toy. “I didn’t know we had a sixth member of the group?”

James whipped around, his hair now messier from his mirror battle, eyes wide. “Is that a stuffed bunny?”

Sirius burst out laughing, rolling off your roommate’s bed in a dramatic heap, holding his stomach. “Please tell me that’s not yours, love. Please.”

Remus looked up from his book, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Well, this is a new revelation.”

You flushed furiously and snatched the bunny from Peter’s hand. "I-it's not what it looks like!" you stammered, clutching the toy to your chest.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” James smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our very own tough, cool Y/N still sleeps with a stuffed animal."

Sirius was laughing so hard he was practically wheezing by now. “A bunny no less! Oh, this is rich.”

You glared at him, trying to defend yourself. “It’s… it’s for comfort!”

James, now fully in on the teasing, nudged you playfully. “We should’ve known. You’re a secret softie.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Peter was still looking at the bunny like it was some rare magical creature. "I’ve got to admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

Before you could snap back, James swooped in, holding the bunny up again. “What’s its name?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You groaned. “It doesn’t have a name.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, finally catching his breath. “Everything has a name.”

"Yeah, like James’ hair gel,” Remus added, smirking.

James shot him a look, but Peter nodded, still curious. “Does it have a backstory?”

You groan, face burning. “I… it’s just—fine. His name is Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

There was a split second of silence before chaos erupted.

“Mr. Flopsy?” Sirius howled, flopping back onto the floor dramatically. James, meanwhile, had lost the ability to stand and was now clinging to the bedpost for support.

“Merlin’s beard, darling,” James choked out between fits of laughter. “That’s…that’s adorable, and so unexpected!”

Remus, though, just gave you a soft smile, clearly more charmed than he wanted to admit. “It’s not that embarrassing,” he said, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

You sighed heavily, knowing there was no way out of this one. “Fine, yes, I still sleep with Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

Sirius crawled up onto your bed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Absolutely. But, darling, now that we know about Mr. Flopsy, you’re going to have to share.”

You glared at him. “What?”

“Oh, yeah,” James said, now fully recovered from his laughing fit. “I think Mr. Flopsy is part of the group now. We’ll have joint custody.”

Peter nodded seriously. “I get him on Thursdays.”

“Fridays are mine!” James declared, smirking.

Remus chuckled and shook his head, still watching you fondly. “This is going to be the softest thing in this dorm, and I’m including you lot.”

Sirius grinned and pulled you into a side hug. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll take very good care of Mr. Flopsy. And of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself, rolling your eyes at them. “Fine. But if you rip him, there will be consequences.”

They all nodded with mock-seriousness, Peter saluting you. “Mr. Flopsy will be protected at all costs.”

And just like that, Mr. Flopsy became the official mascot of the Marauders.

[celiime]

thinking about how life with satoru would be if he had survived. how there’s just something about living with gojo, something so domestic, something so…heartwarming. especially after the war has ended.

living in heaven.

your eyes softened, fingers softly trailing down the side of his face as your thumb smoothed over the scar by his eye—delicately, as if you were afraid to break this god sleeping infront of you—only an addition to the multitude of other scars on his features.

for a moment back there, you thought you had lost him, you thought you wouldn’t be able to see him again—that you would have to wake up in this bed alone, without him.

“i don’t…” for the first time since you’ve known her, shoko ieiri—your former classmate—seemed hesitant to speak, as if her breath was lodged in her throat, “don’t think i can guarantee you anything.”

at those words, though you knew you’d hear something similar to that, your breath hitched, eyes immediately drifting to land on the sight of your husband—torso separated from his lower half (you already threw up at the sight earlier)—gaze blurred by tears.

it wasn’t fair. what did she mean she can’t guarantee anything? does she mean that you won’t get him back?

despite your inner turmoil, the anguish tearing apart all the muscles in your chest—atrial, ventricular, and all the other muscles that you could distinctly feel being torn apart right this second—going all the way up to your throat, wanting to tear its way out—to demolish everything in its path. to avenge what should’ve been.

you think you could feel your body almost giving out.

you only nodded your head, gaze drifting to the floor tiles, the smell of antiseptic and everything unpleasant wafting into your nose, drowning out all your senses, “i trust you.” and you did, you trusted her.

she had always been trustworthy, doing her best, and you knew she wouldn’t let herself rest as long as gojo was on that table.

as much as he was—no, is—your husband, he was —is—also her best friend.

the woman infront of you—still upholding her composed features—bit down on her lip, a small sigh escaping her after a few seconds of silence, “in case anything happens…” in case he died right on that table, in case she couldn’t save him, “do you want to have a few words with him?”

shoko was never one for sentiment, she never really thought of saying her goodbyes to her loved ones as the first thing when she sees them on the table.

however, she knew you. she knew that you needed this, and she would keep you content—as she had promised gojo.

a few minutes passed, that ended up with you sitting beside him, on a chair that dug so persistently onto your side, your hip bone persisted—yet the pain was soon dismissed by the one in your chest, the ache stronger than any pain or dull ache in your side.

your hands, marred with scars and blood, trembled as you placed your hand in his own—fuck, it was so cold—weakly intertwining your fingers within his own, ignoring the shudder going through your body as soon as you held his hand fully.

your breaths quickened, shoulders trembling as you stared down at him, wanting nothing more than to rip out your own heart and replace it with his own.

to give him a beating heart once more.

despite your best efforts, a sob slipped from your lips, not bearing the sight of him laying so lifelessly before you. no sign of a smile or a playful glint in those eyes of his that—much to your dismay? relief?—were still wide open.

you have full faith in shoko, you really do. however, you just can’t help it, you can’t help the fear that crawls to your heart, suffocating you. but most of all, you can’t help the guilt you feel, the regret, the shame.

why didn’t you say goodbye? why did you allow yourself so foolishly to think that gojo is invincible? fuck—you still remember your last—no, don’t think like that—interaction with him.

“wish me luck!” your husband chirped, that wide beam never departing from his lips as he stood proudly in front of you, never hunching his tall stature despite the weight on it.

you quirked an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on your own lips, “do you really need luck, ‘toru? Is my faith not enough?” you managed to utter out, despite the concern and fear residing in the depth of your heart.

at your words, a small chuckle left his lips, eyes softening—the edges of his lips softening into a smile full of fondness, “nah, you’re right. you’re my good luck charm.” he placed a hefty palm on your head, a small snicker escaping him as your glare directed up at him as soon as you felt him messing up your hair.

“though—“ his voice was quick to interrupt the serene moment, a teasing lilt to his voice—that, maybe if you had focused enough, had an edge to it, one that carried doubt, worry, and…fear?

(you think so, you just couldn’t catch onto it before it dissipated from his tone.)

“shouldn’t a wife wish her husband a farewell when he’s heading into such a tough battle? you know! to smother him with worry and kisses?” he inquired, a teasing smile on his lips, “maybe wish him a goodbye if you’re so gracious! who knows if i’ll make it back?” he pouted, finding the time to insert in his theatrics even when uttering such words.

you should’ve put some consideration into his words, should’ve took them to heart—but you didn’t. you didn’t. because why would he be serious if his words were spoken so playfully? when you know that he’s the strongest? when you were so sure that he was sure that he would also make it out alive? he had to be, right?

you huffed out a playful scoff, shaking your head fondly, “you’re being dramatic. you’re going to see me later, anyways. no need for farewells, ‘toru!” you hated farewells, he knew that.

you flashed him a bright smile, hoping it would express the love you had for him despite how you seemed to turn down his request. “we’ll both see eachother later.”

were you?

were his words really genuine?

…

maybe they were. you should’ve taken them seriously. now you’re paying the consequences, the consequences of not being perceptive enough—oh, how your heart aches for your husband.

“maybe wish him a goodbye if you’re so gracious! who knows if i’ll make it back?”

another sob ripped out of your lips as you held his hand tighter, the tips of his fingers turning a faint purple from how tight you gripped onto his hand. “please—“ you don’t think you’ve ever sounded so weak, so defeated, “i’ll say goo—goodbye! anything you want, i’ll—i’ll give you anything you want. please—“

he would’ve cooed at you, had he seen you this mess of tears, snot, and cracking tone.

oh, your baby.

“at least—“ you lowered your forehead to rest upon his chest, shoulders caving in once you realized the absence of a heartbeat, “at least wake up for a few seconds so i could say goodbye, so you would die assured!”

you wanted to hear the sound of his heartbeat, the sound of his faint breaths, the sound of his lashes fluttering as he blinked. you wanted to listen to anything and everything as long as it indicated that he’s still with you.

you desperately prayed that day, drowning in your own tears and snot as you begged and pleaded for shoko to succeed.

to spare you the loss of a beloved.

shoko is indeed a gift to the world, a woman who deserves all worthy praise.

your eyes drifted downwards to your husband, his eyes fluttering open in an attempt to open them, before scrunching them shut as soon as the rays of light seeping through the windows struck them. he huffed out a low groan—a sound that had your heart jumping in ecstasy, even though it normally wouldn’t—reaching one long arm out and wrapping it around your waist.

a small giggle fled from your lips as soon as you felt him burying his head in your chest at an attempt to escape the light.

“what’re you laughing about, huh? you’re so evil.” he huffed, seeking comfort in the warmth of your chest. “you left the curtains open so your poor husband could suffer in the morning!”

yet, despite his protests—the sound of your giggle was enough to alleviate his mood. enough to make him silently thank the stars that he got so lucky to live another day to be able to wake up next to you.

he doesn’t know what would’ve become of him if there happened to be an afterlife, doesn’t know how he would’ve fared with the realization that he’s left you all alone.

he’s thankful he doesn’t get to discover if there is an afterlife or not. hems thankful that he never died on that operation table. he’s thankful for so many things and the most important one being—

his eyes drifted over your face, watching the way your lips quirked up into a smile as you tried to suppress another upcoming giggle, a prominent dimple appearing on your cheek, eyes almost scrunched shut in the enjoyment coursing through your body.

you.

your expression was a stark contrast to the that day, the day when he woke up, the tears long gone from your eyes, voice no longer hoarse.

“you’re so dramatic, ‘toru.” you fondly rolled your eyes, burying your hand in his hair and running it through it—internally cooing at the pleased breath that leaves his lips—

you can’t believe you would’ve had to live without this had the universe decided to torture you. had the worst case scenario happened.

“you know i’d never purposefully set you up like that.” you hummed, a disappointed sound leaving your lips as he drew away from your touch.

his heart melted, almost folding and going right back into your embrace.

his little wife was so smitten with him. he could melt right in his spot.

instead, he placed a hand on the back of your head, gently tugging it towards his chest—heart aching with the need to hold you close to him, to give you a feeling of a shield protecting you, to be gentle with you and grant you everything you want.

his poor baby. he can’t imagine the worry you must’ve been in. his heart aches with both fondness and sorrow as he remembers the state you were in.

“let’s sleep some more..” he mumbled, already feeling his eyelids start to flutter shut; the feeling of you in his arms both intoxicating and comforting, inducing sleep.

“baby, we slept for 14 hours??”

“shhhh…might as well complete the whole 24, you know i’m tired!”

“tired from sleeping, maybe.”

“mean! you know i need my beauty sleep! you can clearly tell who doesn’t get their beauty sleep here…”

huh?!

“what the—you take that back!”

[thedensworld]

Taste Me | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, fluff

Summary: Can't friends taste each other? Seungcheol didn't know the answer. But he was certain that it'll be fair only if he could also taste you.

(I) heard you back together and if that's true, you'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you - Taste by Sabrina Carpenter.

Seungcheol couldn’t quite grasp what he was feeling right now. No matter how hard he tried, sleep wouldn’t come. The image of you crying earlier today haunted him, replaying in his mind. Your voice trembled as you confessed, breaking down in front of him.

"I feel like trash. I feel unworthy and stupid!"

It hit him like a punch to the gut. This was his fault. He was the one who introduced you to Jeonghan, one of his closest friends. Jeonghan was a good guy, and Seungcheol hadn’t thought twice about it. He believed you'd be in good hands. But what he failed to consider was that Jeonghan had just broken up with his ex only two months prior. Seungcheol had been oblivious to the signs—how Jeonghan had used you as a temporary escape, a second choice until his ex decided to take him back.

Your voice echoed in his mind again.

"I saw them kissing in his car when I was trying to fix everything... Why is this happening to me?"

The weight of your pain sat heavily on Seungcheol’s chest. You and Jeonghan had been dating for three months, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect. He genuinely believed you were happy. But then, out of nowhere, Jeonghan had told him one night that you both decided to go your separate ways. Seungcheol hadn’t pried for details. He didn’t ask why. Instead, he had foolishly apologized to Jeonghan, thinking it was you who had caused the breakup.

Now, as he lay awake in the silence of his room, guilt gnawed at him. How had he missed it? How had he misjudged his own friend? Seungcheol realized too late that he should have been there for you, and not assumed that Jeonghan had been blameless. The thought of you hurting because of his oversight made his stomach twist.

He closed his eyes, but all he could see was your tear-streaked face, your broken voice, and the weight of your words. He owed you more than just an apology. He owed you understanding.

Seungcheol stood waiting in front of your office building, checking the time on his phone. Your shift ended at 5, and he figured a nice dinner might help lift your spirits. When you finally emerged from the entrance, your eyes landed on him, and he could see the surprise on your face.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" you asked, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

"Wanna go to our spot?" Seungcheol asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was referring to the little Chinese restaurant you two had frequented since your college days.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

Seungcheol, a freelance photographer, had known you since university when you worked together on a project during your final year. You, a fashion journalist now, hadn’t expected the friendship to last this long, but here you were—still close, still dependable.

Dinner was quiet but comfortable. The usual chatter was replaced by something heavier, unspoken but felt in the air between you two. As you both left the restaurant, Seungcheol walked beside you in silence before finally mumbling, "I’m sorry."

You stopped, turning your head towards him, eyebrows raised in confusion, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

Clearing his throat, Seungcheol added, "You've been through a lot because of me. I feel terrible about it. I should’ve seen what was happening with Jeonghan sooner. I’m really sorry."

You nodded slowly, the understanding clear in your eyes. "It’s about the other night, isn’t it?" you asked, referring to the night you called him, drunk and heartbroken, from a bar. He had picked you up, and in your haze, you had told him everything about Jeonghan—the cheating, the lies, the hurt.

"I should be the one apologizing," you said quietly. "I shouldn’t have called you like that."

Seungcheol shook his head immediately, waving his hands dismissively. "No, call me anytime. That’s what friends are for, right?"

After that night, life resumed its usual pace. You and Seungcheol continued as normal friends—occasional texts here and there, but your meetings became less frequent. That was until one day when Seungcheol showed up at your new apartment to help with the furniture. You had just moved into a bigger place, and he was putting the finishing touches on a cupboard while you sorted through boxes of clothes.

As you carried over a box, Seungcheol noticed something familiar—the colors and fabrics, the oversized sweaters, and a couple of t-shirts that clearly weren’t yours.

"Those are Jeonghan’s, aren’t they?" he asked, unable to hide the hint of irritation in his voice.

You glanced at the clothes and smiled, a touch of irony in your expression. "Yeah, they are. I found out men's clothes are way more comfortable when I was dating him."

Seungcheol felt a strange tightening in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but the fact that you still had Jeonghan’s clothes didn’t sit right with him. It boiled something inside him that he didn’t know was there.

"Why haven’t you thrown them out?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

You shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "Honestly? I kinda want his new girlfriend to wonder where half his wardrobe disappeared to."

For a moment, Seungcheol was taken aback by your response, but then he couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his own face. He liked how you were handling things—turning the pain into something lighter, almost humorous. It was clever and strong in its own way.

Maybe, Seungcheol thought, he could learn a thing or two from you about how to deal with heartbreak. He didn’t quite understand the shift in his feelings, but one thing was becoming clear—he was starting to like the way you handled the world, and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to see you in a different light.

"Throw them, i get you mine." Seungcheol told you and you squealed, excited to get his expensive wardrobe.

*

You still couldn’t fully process what had happened back at the restaurant during your university magazine club reunion. Seungcheol and you had gone together, and to your surprise, Jeonghan was there too, accompanying his girlfriend Jinah, who was also a member of the club back in the same year as you.

Everything had been going well—casual conversations, light laughter—until Jinah dropped an unexpected bombshell, her voice laced with bitterness.

"So, Y/N dated my boyfriend back then."

The entire table fell silent. You felt every pair of eyes turn toward you. Jeonghan's expression shifted immediately, his lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze darted between you and Jinah. You chose not to respond, not wanting to escalate things. But Seungcheol, ever the protective friend, didn’t hesitate to jump in. He stood up, his voice cutting through the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the group.

"Or maybe," Seungcheol said, his eyes locked on Jinah, "it was you who was dating her boyfriend?"

A collective gasp went through the room as whispers filled the air. You could feel the tension thickening as everyone processed the implication. Jeonghan's face darkened, his brow furrowing.

"Did you just insinuate that I cheated on her?" Jeonghan’s voice was low, controlled, but there was a threat behind it.

Seungcheol smirked, his anger barely concealed. "You didn’t?"

And before anyone could react, fists flew. Tables clattered, chairs scraped against the floor, and suddenly the reunion turned into chaos. You found yourself driving Seungcheol’s car back to your apartment, his knuckles bloodied, and his anger still simmering in the passenger seat.

"I can’t believe I was friends with that bastard," Seungcheol spat, staring out of the window as his chest rose and fell with fury. "You dated him, Y/N? I could’ve been the better man!"

You glanced at him, trying to calm him down. "Yes, Seungcheol. Let’s get inside and treat your wounds before we talk about this."

You parked the car and led him into your apartment. His hand was bleeding from punching the table, and you could tell he had tried to restrain himself from hitting Jeonghan. But the moment Jeonghan touched him first, Seungcheol had lost all control.

"Does it hurt?" you asked softly, reaching up to touch his bruised cheek.

He shook his head, still scowling. "I should’ve hit him a hundred times."

You chuckled, pressing an ice cloth to his cheek. "Take it easy, you gave him enough of a lesson, baby boy."

Seungcheol relaxed slightly as you tended to him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently rubbed the crease in his furrowed brow. "Thanks," you whispered, appreciating how fiercely he had defended you. He let out a long sigh, the anger slowly ebbing away.

"Why didn’t you say anything to her?" Seungcheol asked, his voice quieter now, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "You just let her talk. You didn’t defend yourself."

You tilted your head, your eyes meeting his. "No words needed," you replied, your tone calm. "She tastes me every time she kisses him."

Seungcheol took a sharp breath, your words sinking deep. He suddenly realized just how close his face was to yours. His breath hitched, and so did yours. You both froze, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you. His eyes lingered on your face, and you could feel your heartbeat quicken.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked, blinking and blushing at the intensity of his stare.

Seungcheol shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No… I just… I feel like I want to kiss you right now."

Your breath caught in your throat. The ice cloth in your hand slipped and fell, but Seungcheol was quick to catch it—and your hand. He placed the cloth back in your grip, but his eyes never left yours. Slowly, his hands moved to your cheeks, his touch gentle, his thumbs grazing your skin softly.

"It’s unfair," Seungcheol murmured, his voice low and husky. "If they can taste you… but I can’t."

Your heart raced as the tension between you became almost unbearable. You shifted slightly, uncertain but not resisting. "Aren’t we just friends?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol’s lashes fluttered as he gazed at you, his breath warm against your skin. "Can’t friends taste each other?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours softly, testing, waiting. The kiss was gentle at first, a mere whisper of a touch, but when you responded, moving your lips against his, Seungcheol immediately deepened the kiss, pulling you closer.

In that moment, you realized you wanted this, too. You wanted him.

Seungcheol stood up from the couch, his hands sliding around your waist as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. The tension between you two thickened, electric in the air, as Seungcheol gently flipped you onto the couch, his body hovering above yours, trapping you beneath him in a way that made your heart race.

"You make me crazy," Seungcheol whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft kisses along the curve of your neck. His hands roamed the contours of your body, setting fire to every inch they touched. A soft moan escaped your lips, spurring him on.

He paused just long enough to pull off his T-shirt and toss it aside before finding his way back to you. His lips crashed against yours, hungry and desperate, as if kissing you was the only thing that mattered.

In between heated kisses, he mumbled, "I can't believe we're making out."

You broke the kiss just enough to look into his eyes, your breath coming in short gasps. His gaze was intense, almost burning into yours.

"I've been wanting this." You confessed, your voice soft but fillfilled with the weight of your desire.

Seungcheol eyes darkened, flickering with something raw and deep. His grips on your waist tightened slightly, his lips parted as he gazed at you, completely captivated by you. In that moment, unspoken tension that had simmered between you both for so long was finally released, and there was no turning back.

Seungcheol's eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity between you growing as he leaned in again, his lips brushing softly against your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through you, and you arched slightly under his touch.

His hands moved lower, grazing your sides, his fingertips tracing over your skin as if memorizing every inch. There was a desperation in the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for far too long. You could feel his heartbeat quickening, matching your own.

The weight of him against you, the heat of his skin—it was all overwhelming, intoxicating in the best way. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was pulling you deeper into something you’d both been avoiding for so long. But now, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts—just the raw, undeniable connection between you two that had finally come to the surface.

Seungcheol’s lips moved back to yours, the kiss deepening, more passionate, as his hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, letting yourself fully give in to the moment.

He pulled away briefly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His voice was soft but serious. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the tenderness in his tone. You nodded, your hand reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. "I’ve never been more sure."

That was all the reassurance he needed. Seungcheol’s lips crashed onto yours again, more fiercely this time, his hands pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. The air between you sizzled, filled with the heat of long-buried feelings finally set free.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just you and him, and the realization that this was exactly where you were both meant to be.

*

"Hey, love," Seungcheol greeted you warmly as you slid into the passenger seat of his car. Without hesitation, he leaned in to press a kiss against your lips, a sweet and familiar gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter.

You had just finished work, and Seungcheol had promised to drive you home so you could make dinner together. After the kiss, you pulled back slightly to put on your seatbelt, but you noticed Seungcheol still staring at you, his eyes lingering on your face with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked, raising a brow in question. Instead of answering, he smirked, licking his lips.

Realizing some of your lip gloss had transferred to his mouth, you quickly reached over to wipe it off, laughing softly as you did.

"You taste different today," Seungcheol remarked, his voice playful yet low. "Where's my strawberry lips?" he teased, glancing at you as he started the car and pulled out onto the road.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I switched it up—went for cherry this time."

Seungcheol grinned at your response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Cherry, huh? Well, I hope I’m the only one getting to taste this new flavor."

You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned back in your seat. "You are. And you're the only one who’s ever going to."

His grin widened, looking like the lovesick fool he was. "Then kiss me a lot today, so I get used to it," he added, eyes briefly flickering your way before returning to the road.

There was a new rhythm between you, something that felt right, natural—like it had been waiting to happen all along. You both knew that the line between friendship and love had been crossed in the most beautiful way possible. There was no going back, and neither of you wanted to.

This was where you belonged—together.

[inazuman]

i hope you find what you're looking for

☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab and goes by she/her. alpha/omega dynamics. blade helps you out during your heat, calls you “girl” “sweet girl” “baby”, consent is sexy and blade is very adamant about it. reader is jing yuan’s assistant. ☁  A/N: i cannot get sweet gentle blade off my mind after that car scene and this fic is what happened ☁ 5k words

“Watch where you’re going, miss.”

His hands fall to your waist as your back crashes against his front, attempting to blink away the frazzled state you’re in. Despite his warm hands, his touch feels like the first gulp of ice cold water on the hottest day.

Alpha, your head wants to reel. It’s sickening sweet, the way your slick pools at just a whiff of his scent.

It’s even worse when you turn around and realize who it is. Even with the mask and the sunglasses (does he really think that helps?), your heart drops.

Blade. The Stellaron Hunter who escaped from the Shackling Prison less than an hour ago.

Aeons, this really is the worst day to be getting your heat, isn’t it?

Blade immediately retracts his hands when he realizes your state. He’s been alive too many years to need to run away before his body starts reacting, but he’s still — at least partially — human. Your scent is sweet, almost needy, has his biology wanting to follow you wherever you go.

You whine at the loss of contact, your hand immediately slapping across your mouth as you come to terms with what just happened.

“I-“

“No need to apologize, it’s perfectly natural.”

This little alleyway is only used by those working with the Divine Foresight, and in the middle of a work day, nobody is walking through it. Nobody was supposed to walk through it. Maybe you should’ve figured a long lived, previously acclaimed man like him would’ve known about it and used it.

That thought would’ve been way more helpful when you were trying to track his movements earlier.

Blade’s in no rush. He hasn’t been for a long time. The time will pass anyways, after all. Elio makes no mistakes in his script, so he’s sure whatever happens here won’t affect the later situation. It’s whether you’re in the right mind state to know what’s happening, that’s his biggest concern.

“You’re-! You know rightfully, I should cuff you and bring you back to the Shackling Prison.” You try to be stern, but your core turns, causing you to buckle forward. Blade swiftly reaches across to hold you up.

“I… can help you get close to a medical bay. If your mind is still clear-“

“My mind is perfectly coherent,” you snap, and then your face immediately winces with regret. He might be a so-called criminal, but it’s not like he’s hurt you personally, and Jing Yuan strangely but oh-so-kindly asked for your understanding of him. “It only started today. My mind won’t fog until at least tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Hold up. You’re a criminal. On the run. And you want to help me get to a med bay? Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, running away?”

“All will come to be as it should.”

You roll your eyes. It’s like when Jing Yuan tells Fu Xuan that it’s “not her time” with some fancy words.

Blade rephrases. “I have nowhere to be, as of right now.”

You feel your knees threatening to buckle, wincing as your hand squeezes Blade’s shoulder tight. If it affects him, his face doesn’t show it.

“Fine. Since you’re the nicest criminal looking to be a Samaritan, please help me get home. It’s not far from here.”

~

Blade is surprisingly patient, even bothers to remove his shoes before coming into the house, gracefully placing you on your sofa.

“Thank you, wanted criminal.”

He scoffs at that, but nods politely. His sunglasses and mask are tucked somewhere away now, no need for them since you know exactly who he is.

There’s a beat of silence. He should leave. He’s done his job. But you’re an omega in distress, alone. And the worst part is, you’re not doing anything.

You’re not grabbing items to make a nest, or calling an alpha, or taking any medication. Are you waiting for him to leave? You likely would’ve said something, given your clear ability to clip back. Your scent most certainly tells him to stay, but he knows better than most what it’s like to be a prisoner to your own physical body, in more ways than one.

All you do is grip at the edge of the sofa and stare at your coffee table, like an endangered animal with nowhere to go.

Maybe it’s his biology talking, but he somehow feels like he should do something.

“Is there anything else you need?”

It’s your turn to scoff, doing your best to shake off your mind. “Wow, you really are nice.” You remove your shoes, slotting them under the couch for later. And then your eyes narrow. “Or were you just looking for a pretty little omega to fuck, hm?”

If this were any other situation, he would’ve taken this opportunity to turn on his heel and leave right out the door, but something about the situation prickles at the back of his neck.

“Is this your first time handling a heat?” He asks directly.

You wince at that, wrapping a throw blanket over yourself. “No… Is it that obvious?” You sigh, bringing your knees towards yourself and pressing them against your chest. “I’ve been on suppressants for a long time.”

Blade gives you your options sincerely. “There’s an app. For those in your predicament. Otherwise, you might want to consider a nest. If you have painkillers on you, that could help too. I’ve heard it’s not much help, but it’s better than nothing.”

You breathe. “Nest. Right.” Your eyes scatter around, holding the blanket around you tight. You look like you want to get up and then you don’t, mind volleying between thoughts and decisions that end up leaving you nowhere. Blade’s chest can’t help but tighten at how lost you look.

“May I?” he asks for permission to step further into your home.

What a criminal, you want to remark. But the way your heart is pumping both from the stress and the heat within you just has you nodding. He opens your bedroom door before walking back towards you and carefully picking you up, slowly, like he’s giving you every chance to interject. To your surprise, you let him, the omega inside of you feels like it’s almost cooing at his embrace. He places you down on the armchair in the corner, washing his hands in the bathroom before taking your blanket and bunching it up in a circular motion, propping up your pillows around it.

“Okay. This is a good start. Add things that bring you comfort around you. If you like soft toys, or something like that. If you’re up to it, it would be ideal for you to shower and get into something comfortable.”

Your scent peaks, making him turn around. Your knees are tucked close to you once more, your eyes glassy. You can feel yourself descending into something, more quickly than you realized.

“Whilst I’m still coherent… I would…” you swallow, your throat feels like you’ve drunken something sweet and forgot to drink water before falling sleep. “I would appreciate if you stayed. Since you said you’re not doing anything. Not that I’m pressuring you. Your scent is…” you feel your face get hot, but Blade just nods.

“I’ll be just outside.”

~

It’s perfectly normal.

Okay, that’s not the right word. Maybe more like, it’s perfectly natural. To ask an alpha to stay with you during your heat. There’s apps for that. That’s what Blade said, right?

The shower water beats over your skin as you lightly scrub it.

Definitely not embarrassing. Or strange. Even if he is a wanted criminal. What was it, something like 8 billion credits? Would Jing Yuan even give you that if you turned him back in?

You press the edge of your palm against your eyebrow. His scent, like the woods and bergamot and faintly of incense. The wanted posters did not do him justice.

~

Blade presses a hand to his pants the moment he closes the door.

Your scent, sweeter than any sin, the glassy look in your eyes that you were so desperately blinking away, the way you gripped him as you gasped into his touch… He is not someone who struggles with self-control, but he can’t deny the way his member hardens.

He desperately tries to think. What do omegas need again? Medication. Something soft. Water.

He hears you enter the shower, the thought of you naked passes quickly in his mind, but has him gripping your doorknob tight all the same. You said something about his scent too, didn’t you? He removes his outerwear, shuffling back into your room to place it on the armchair. Just in case.

He spots your laundry hamper on his way out your room, and forces himself to look away before he gets carried away.

~

As he places a jug of water and a couple glasses on your bedside table, you chuck your hand holding a towel into his field of vision.

He doesn’t take it, instead curiously arches an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, fine, I’ll say it, since the shower cleared my mind. I am aware that you are a big bad criminal. And we’re both aware I’m in heat. But you’ve been nice. So this is my official invitation. Stay with me during it.”

“That sounds more like a demand.”

You push the towel into his hands, and this time he takes it. “We both know you’re perfectly capable of leaving here if you wanted.” You stomp back to your nest, courtesy of the handsome man in front of you, and wrap yourself into your blankets.

“The jacket gesture was nice,” you add, “but you’ve been in the Shackling Prison. Aeon knows what’s down there. So shower, and come back here.” Maybe he’s right. This does sound like a demand. “Is this arrangement… okay with you?”

The corner of Blade’s mouth upturns just a bit, but he steels himself for what he’s about to say. “I’m one of the most dangerous men the IPC has a bounty on. You’re clearly under the influence of your heat, which means we can’t be perfectly clear of your consent.”

“My mind is clear. I’m Jing Yuan’s assistant. You might be strong, but I can take a fight too. Also…” you flush with embarassment, “I have no idea what I’m doing. You clearly know more than me, and I’m guessing I’m about to get worse. Also… Jing Yuan may have told me to be nice to you even though you’re a criminal.”

Blade laughs at that, a warm sound that hits straight to your core, your hand pressing against your stomach.

“You trust the General’s words that much?”

“There’s a lot going on right now! Just take the goddamn shower!” You chuck a pillow at him, which he catches with ease and throws back.

A closer whiff of your scent has him swallowing a noise in his throat. He rationalizes that he surely can’t leave you in the hands of a random Alpha who might take advantage of your lack of knowledge, especially not someone so close to Jing Yuan.

~

“Alphas can act more… barbaric, shall we say, the heavier an omega’s heat gets. You have to fight and say it straight if you don’t want anything, you understand?”

Maybe you should’ve thought this through a little more before, because now you certainly can’t. Blade is wearing nothing except the towel you gave him wrapped low around his waist, his muscles clear and evident, scars littering his body like streaks of comets. He’s stunning.

He watches you ogle him, sighing as he cups your face gently in his palm, forcing your gaze to his face.

“Did you hear me, girl?”

And oh, maybe that’s a mistake on his part, because the moment you make eye contact with him, his breath catches. Your lips are still slick with the water you’ve been drinking, your pupils widened and full of lust. That blank look that is clearly only thinking of him. How long has it been for Blade too, since he’s had a moment like this with someone else? Centuries? Your omega scent fills the air at the skin-to-skin contact, and it makes him feel like you’re a siren pulling him in.

He can see your mind working, doing your best to force your brain to think. “I’ll tell you. I will.”

It’s only then that Blade sits in your nest with you. He notices the way you lean into him, until your head rests against his shoulder, breathing his smoky scent in.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Blade chuckles. “My only concern is being able to control myself through this.”

You reach for him, press your face closer to his, until your noses are touching. He lets you lead, wants you to lead, so that he knows exactly what it is you want and what you’re okay with.

And you do, your mouth pressing against his, getting the first drink of what he has to offer. He thinks he could drown in you like this. His hand moves to the small of your back, his lips gentle and slow as they move against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and then you’re pulling him in, and it’s like a dam that breaks open. He’s careful not to rest his whole weight on you, one hand propping himself up against your headboard, even as you squeeze your arms tighter. You didn’t realize heats could feel like this, having someone with you to hold as it sinks you in deeper. You bring your nose to the scent gland at his neck, kissing it lightly, and your scent that fllls the room in return has him making a noise akin to a growl as he presses his hand into your waist.

“Careful, girl,” he warns, but you don’t care. God, you don’t care. You feel your heat settling into your body deeper, slick pooling between your legs as you wrap them around his waist. You’re sure he can smell it, especially from the way he tries to still you.

“Mm, a little fast, don’t you think?” His teeth nips at your ear as your hands trail down his chest, over his back, the bumps from scarring only making it clearer to your heat-addled brain that he’s strong, a strong alpha.

“It’s your-,” your words die down before you can say them. It’s your job to keep us in check, you want to say. But your body starts to warm uncomfortably. Blade runs a hand up and down your torso, thumb pressing circles against your waist. Your eyebrows cinch together, kicking of the sheets yet wanting the comfort of them close to you.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’s called a heat for a reason.” He kisses your cheek gently, like a lover. You chase his lips, bringing him in for another kiss.

“You don’t feel hot,” you tell him as you break away, confused. Strangely enough, Blade’s body doesn’t add to your irritating warmth. If anything, it feels like the only relief. His body is warm, but where he touches you tingles softly, staving off the heaviness.

“Mm, that’s because I’m taking care of you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, dangerously close to nipping at your scent gland, before descending down your collarbone. His hands move under your shirt, a reprieve from the sweat that’s starting to sheenson your skin. You want to beg him like he’s a god to release you from the cage your heated body has become. Instead, you remove your shirt, pulling him into you once more, his skin against yours like a reverence.

He continues to kiss at the skin he’s been given access to, one hand moving to your breast, cupping it from below and pinching at your nipple. You arch into his touch, and his mind immediately goes to the thought of you arching your back as he presses his member into you.

He wants more. He wants so, so much more.

Does he dare let himself indulge? His thoughts flitter away as you release him from the death grip your arms had him in, allowing him to descend his mouth down to your breasts, to kiss at the skin, teeth scraping lightly over a nipple, his hands skating over your stomach and to the waistband of your pants.

You’re sobbing into him now, somehow he’s skin to skin with you and it feels like it’s not nearly close enough. Your head feels full of cotton, his body and the feeling of his wet tongue lapping at you, lips wrapping around your nipple, encompassing you so fully you sometimes forget to breathe.

You tap his shoulder as he kisses down your stomach, and he looks up at you with curious eyes.

“Can’t- can’t take it,” you heave, hands stroking his hair. “Take me now,” your thighs tighten around him. “Need- I need”

“No.”

His answer is so clipped that it shocks you, and you’re almost distracted by him removing your pants from you, leaving your soft panties for his view.

“Wha- Blade,” you sigh his name, you meant for it to be a scolding, but then he’s kissing right above the waistband of your panties and you feel the air rush out of you all too delicately. “You- don’t you want-”

“This is about what you want.”

“I just told you what I want!”

“You’re not ready.” His words are almost a whisper now, voice gruff between your legs, his hair tickling the inside of your thighs as he presses his nose to your clothed core and breathes you in. God, he feels like an animal, his member hardening at just the scent of your slick. Don’t you know he’s already holding back? Don’t you know the way you’re beckoning him to give it to you now is more torture for him than it is for you?

“What? Blade, you can’t be serious.”

He grunts. “I’m serious.” His saliva coats his mouth, gripping your thighs a little tighter. “May I?”

“God, Blade, yes. Do whatever you’re gonna do since you’re not gonna-”

He relishes in the way your breath catches and the words fall out of your mouth the moment he laps his wet tongue over your clothed core. The sound you let out is a wrecked thing.

You distinctly hear a ripping sound, the material giving way against your skin and chucked somewhere behind him.

“Blade!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he groans, and then his tongue is pressed against your folds and oh, it’s like heaven’s greatest sin, so close to the relief you so desperately want. He doesn’t sound any better, moans falling from his lips that are pressed against your core, purposefully wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them towards his face so he can have you all around him, your skin and scent and sweat only adding to the way he has to grind his hips into your bed.

You intertwine your fingers with his, gripping tight, and he can’t help but feel his heart lurch a little at how cute the gesture is. You know exactly who he is, but the way you’re gasping his name asking him for more, more makes him feel like less of a monster and more like a lover, your lover.

He swallows every drop of pearly wetness you afford him, his suckles over your folds slowly growing more desperate. He wants to breathe you in, drink you up, give you all he can. He settles with splitting your folds with his tongue, flicking your clit over and over again, gripping your thighs tight, and mumbling into your skin about how “you’re so pretty like this, wanna watch you make a mess on my face” between breaths.

He doesn’t have to wait long, your grip on his hand gets tighter with each lather of his wet muscle, your core tightening as you try your best to tell him that you’re close, so close.

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna give it to me?” he whispers against your skin, lips glistening as they delve back in. “Go ahead then, show me how pretty you look when you cum.”

He watches you as you cum, letting out a broken moan, your thighs pressing against the sides of his face impossibly tighter, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. You sob as your hips thrust into his face, his hands never letting yours go, tongue working you through every shock of your orgasm. He does his best to savor every drop. It’s for him, because of him, after all.

You’re shocked he’s still going when you come back to, your thrashing going from intense pleasure to overstimulation, your hands pushing against his in an attempt to get away from the way he’s still sucking on your clit.

“Too much! Blade, I’m so sensitive, it’s so much, oh, gods.”

“Mm,” he acknowledges you, but doesn’t let up, still holding your legs tight against himself. He’s not done, doesn’t want to be.

“Blade, BladeBladeBlade, I can’t, I really can’t, wha-“ Something shifts inside of you, and the feeling is like being choked, your lungs out of breath and desperately trying to take in air as the pain gives way to pleasure. Every wave feels like a drug, so quick to become putty in his hands as he drags you to another orgasm. This time it’s slower to build, but so much more intense, your body uncontrollable as it tenses harshly, gripping his hair, and you come undone on his tongue once more.

“Blade, holy, what-“ you try to catch your breath, desperate for each gulp of air you take in.

He groans in satisfaction, his grin carnivorous as he swipes his tongue over his lips, wiping the excess with the back of his hand.

“Good girl. Came so well for me, didn’t you?” His smirk is evident, canines pressing down just slightly against his tongue. He peppers kisses against your inner thigh.

“Gods, Blade. Just-“ your legs shake as you attempt to reel him in, grabbing his hand with yours, and this time he lets you, kissing you deep, his tongue grazing against the back of your teeth.

You lay your hand flat against his abs, sliding them down until your fingertips reach the towel, haphazardly pulling it off. He draws in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cool air on his member, pressing his hand down to your waist. His mind reels with just the thought of having you, the thought of his cock sliding into you, lubricated by your slick and his spit.

When he pulls his lips away from yours, you finally get to look at him, your hand wrapping around his dick as he exhales a soft ‘mm’.

You pump your hand up once, twice, before he’s taking your hand in his and putting it away.

“Blade, please. You’re so hard,” you’re sure between your legs is shiny with your slick and his spit. He doesn’t falter anymore, pressing your thighs back towards your chest, lining himself up with his cunt, gritting his teeth as the sensitive head catches against your folds.

“You’re-,” he grips your thighs a little harder, steeling himself against you. “Stay still, girl.”

“Please.”

“I’m getting there*.”*

“You’ve been teasing me for hours-”

“You’ve cum twice. Don’t make me show you what teasing really looks like.” He finally presses himself into you, a short intake of breath passes through his teeth as the head slips in. He plays with you, he has to be, sliding in and out of you, giving you just a little more each time.

You’re gripping his shoulders, pulling his body close to yours, his grunts so soft you might almost miss them if his mouth wasn’t against your ear. You’re faring no better, pressed chest to chest against him as he sinks into you.

“Oh,” you gasp, and he grunts in return, his forehead pressing against yours so he can watch and feel your every reaction. His hand grips the headboard, the wood creaks as if it’s about to give in to him, trying his damn best not to slam into you like he knows he wants to. He sheaths himself in whole, finally, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. It feels downright cruel, the way you grip around him, your pretty whines against his ear.

“Are you-”

“Please,” you beg him, because nothing has ever felt so right and you think you might die if he doesn’t give it to you.

He huffs. “You’re not gonna die, baby. I’ll give it to you.”

“Well hurry up with it or I might,” you tilt your hips up, trying to move under his weight but he’s heavy, pinning you down and yet it’s exactly what you need. He moves off of you slightly only to bring his hands behind your knees, pressing them to your chest, and there’s a moment where you’re not really sure where he’s going with this until he-

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, and then he’s slamming into you hard. “Wanted to make this easy for you, ease you in, but you just had to go and be a brat.” You think your mind bluescreens from the pleasure-pain of his cock sliding all the way out to the tip only to press back into you, ramming against your cervix with every other press of his hips against yours, your heat coiling like a serpent in your core, like the slow drip of syrup through your body.

He brings his hand down between your bodies, fingers tapping against your clit. “Taking my cock so well, aren’t you?” His voice is low and heavy, and all you can do is say his name in return. “You’re a good little omega, aren’t you baby? Good girl, good fucking girl.”

You thought he’d be quiet, but something about his cock inside of you has the words tumbling out of his mouth. You can both feel his knot starting to swell, the heat of it making him sweat, the way it widens right at the base. It makes his hips stutter, more desperate, prevents him from sliding out all the way like he was before so he fucks you faster.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Your legs are over his shoulder now, one hand running circles over your clit, the other making its way around your neck. He doesn’t choke you, doesn’t press down, only holds you there as a show of power, but something about it has you arching your back into him.

He thinks it’s dangerous, makes him feel like you belong to him.

“Wanna cum around your cock,” you whisper to him in return, and he grunts.

“Yeah?” He smirks, but it’s gentle, almost like a smile, a soft upturn at the corner of his mouth. “Been aching for an alpha’s cock inside of you, haven’t you?”

“Just yours,” you tell him, your fingernails scratching at the nape of his neck. The confession has him pressing his teeth right next to your scent gland, making a mark where you can’t hide.

“This pussy belongs to me now, then,” he says it like something between a demand and a prayer. You gasp yes into his ear as you get closer to the edge, teetering off it. “Show me how my pussy cums for me. Cum around my cock, baby. You’ve been aching for it, haven’t you?” You can feel the pulse of his knot, his adam apple jumping as he swallows, mouth dry. “Go ahead and cum for me then.”

It’s your alpha’s order, your body follows like it responds only to his demands, it feels like it’s being ripped out of you as your chest presses against his and your mind goes blank, your slick gushing around his knot. He’s only seconds behind, spilling into you with a groan, his face in your shoulder, his nose against your scent gland so he can memorize the sweetness of you right at your peak.

It’s with a deep intake of breath that you both relax. He’s careful to position his body next to yours, to make sure he doesn’t crush you, even as his cock stays inside of you, his knot still slightly swollen. He swipes your hair back, thumb tracing over your hairline as he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then presses his lips against yours for something saccharine sweet. You let him, drinking him in.

“Stay,” you tell him, and he chuckles, because it’s still more of an order than a request.

“Still got attitude,” he holds you close, rolling both of you over so you’re lying on top of him. “Not going anywhere, baby. Relax.”

“For my whole heat. Take my number too, while you’re at it.” Your words slur together, but the genuinity shows in your eyes.

“I’m a wanted criminal.” He says frankly.

“Oh yeah? Should’ve- fuck- should’ve told me that earlier. It’s almost like there’s a wanted poster on every street of you.”

“It doesn’t look like me.” He rakes a hand through your hair, his other massages the soreness in your thigh.

“Why’d Jing Yuan let you go anyways?”

“You wanna say another man’s name with my dick still inside of you?”

“Ah, sorry, so possessive. I think it’s going down now.” You lift yourself off of it slowly, and Blade watches with reverence as his seed slips out of you, milky white. He catches it on his fingers, pressing it back.

“S-Sensitive,” your nails press into his chest, and he kisses your shoulder in apology.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Can’t move.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“We just showered.”

“Just a rinse. Then I’ll add your number, okay?”

“Okay.”

[solbaby7]

Sweet Thing

pairing: rhysand x reader

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

part 4 of the shy!reader massage mini series

warnings: swearing, sexual implications, possible violence, jealousy, gambling, male egos, petnames (bc being called bunny is so cute and soft, fight me on it)

summary: Your High Lord hosts a party with a dozen hothead Illyrian soldiers where you become the main attraction

—

“Stay close,” Rhysand murmurs in your ear, a warm hand pressed at the low of your back to guide you into the large room. It’d been recently renovated; not yet decorated and you'd assumed it was turned into a makeshift meeting area, a giant table pushed in the middle with a dozen chairs wrapped around it. It was also the furthest room from your own—a little detail that Rhys quickly bristled over when you'd mentioned it earlier. “Wanted to keep my good luck charm close by tonight.”

Your cheeks warm under the words, annoyingly aware of how sensitive your body had become in response to the High Lord since that night. It haunted your every breath; his barely contained need, the throbbing cock just a few measly layers away from being everything you’d ever dreamed of and Rhysand fed off of it like ravenous wolves who'd been starved three winters over. The teasing was merciless; heated touches and sinful words of remembrance haughtily whispered in your ear when you were supposed to be concentrating.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” You shy out of his touch, the hunger in his voice unmistakable and creating distance is easy when the others begin to filter in. A dozen or so pristinely dressed males of all sizes briefly greet Rhysand, hands clapping at each others backs and the testosterone that filtered in was thick enough to suffocate. They were friends; guys he’d fought and bled with, people he’d known for hundreds of years all gathered for card games and expensive glasses of liquor.

You were only there to help, to look pretty and shuffle the cards and stay close to Rhys—easy enough. “I’m thinking I should’ve dressed better.”

His fingers trace over the pleated pattern of your skirt, the soft purple fabric teasing at the middle of your thigh and all he can smell is some fruit on your skin—pomegranate? pear? “You look perfect, don’t worry about all them. You’ll be collecting their money for me by the end of the night.” Rhys is touchy; shamelessly so in front of others and you notice a few of the guests beginning to take you in, their stares raking up your form, sizing you up and you can feel Azriel shift closer from beside you.

"You always did have the prettiest little things hanging off your shoulder, Rhysand." Your head slowly turns to face the drawling voice, male entitlement and an incredulous amount of confidence seeping from every pore. Handsome and wealthy, but the allure dies the moment his mouth opens. The tailored suit alone was worth three months of the average faes rent and then some. "You have to tell me where you found this one."

Rhys laughs but you can tell there's no real humor behind it, his hand raising to wrap around your waist and pull you in closer; enough for your thighs to skim on the arm rest of his chair. The body language is possessive no matter how casual it’s intended to be and you catch Cass and Az sharing a look—mentally agreeing to pounce when they deemed fit.

Like salivating lions dressed in sheep's clothing.

"Couldn’t tell you, Maverick, she just stumbled in my lap."

He's trying to hold back for the benefit of the greater good—that was the whole point of inviting them over in the first place. Even after Mor had insisted that it was the dumbest idea ever inviting a dozen ill-tempered Illyrian soldiers and filling them up with booze. "I'd love to see her stumble in mine."

Your reaction is instinctual after feeling the High Lord's shoulders tense under your fingers and in seconds your hands are gently kneading at the muscle there, a palm running soothing lines up the length of his back and manicured nails scratch wonderfully at the nape of his neck until a bit of that darkness subsided. With a hum, you gently push his hand from your waist, backing away with a pitch only audible to him, "Gonna grab you guys some drinks."

"I'll help." You don't even try denying the spymaster, more than familiar with his customs and how unbearably uncomfortable he got once you started taking care of large groups of people. Az was always the first to say thank you when you served dinner and always made sure to wait until you sat down and took the first bite before even touching his fork.

He's quiet behind you, busying his hands with polishing the glasses you'd lined up and his shadows follow you around like a clingy pet but you understand why he's there—a silent promise that he'd have your back the entire night. That you’d never be left alone.

Azriel watches you pour a six-hundred year old bottle of amber liquor one knuckle deep for every cup besides one—that one got double and a single ice cube. Just how the High Lord liked it. "It's going to be fine," You tell him softly, storing away the rest of the bottle and you don't fight the smile that pulls when he stops you from carrying anymore than three glasses—brunting the rest of the work on the shadows. "Just a few hours and it'll all be over."

Azriel only hums but there's an underlying gratefulness for not having to speak or explain and his protectiveness towards you grows at how easily you understand him—adapting to his moods with ease.

He returns to his seat, shadows wisping their thanks over the length of your calf and a sweet smile is sent Cassian's way when he presses a grateful kiss to your hand. You turn to go back to Rhys, one final drink in your hand and you can feel Maverick's eyes trailing you, undressing you, touching and lusting from afar but he might as well have been shouting it across the room from the top of his lungs. "Come sit, bunny. And shuffle the deck, will you? They think I cheat."

"We know you do." Another male chuckles over the rim of his glass, blue eyes sharp and tawny curls tickle at the sides of his ears—Cade, you learn after a few minutes of listening in silence. You sift through the deck, righting the cards and splitting them in two before shuffling once, twice, a third time before you set it before you to be split by another. “Look at the hands on this one,” Cade poorly whispers to Maverick, shoulders bumping playfully and you felt like you were being hunted, ganged up on—eaten alive by males who didn’t follow the same code as the ones you hung around. “I bet they get the job done quite nicely.”

Rhysand has no time to respond because Cass is already doing it; gold battles with blue, large hands broadcasted before him and the General looks down at them to peer like a high maintenance woman after her nail appointment. “You should look at mine,” Crimson red Siphons glow with life on his arms; all seven of them, most hidden by the dark long sleeved shirt he wore but the message got across rather quickly. “I’m sure they’ll do it much better.”

You shift in Rhys’ lap, settling into the hands splayed around your waist, the other trails ticklish lines up the length of a bare arm and you’re grateful for how quickly the conversation shifts. “What do I do now?”

The low cadence of his voice rumbles against your back, hair gently pushed off one shoulder to make room for the chin that settles there. His instructions are thorough and intended to be purely informational but the smell of his cologne, the large hands sliding down lower to rub at the sides of your thighs and you’re unbearably aware of the plush of your ass nestled right atop of him. Cards are dealed, the rest left in a pile and you slowly draw three, facing them upright and most of the rest is a bit of a blur.

Every now and then Rhys will lean closer to mumble about what was going on but mostly it was just a room full of drunk males and their money. They cursed like sailors and laughed like hyenas, a chorus of voices overlapping the other until the liquor took its course and the true personalities settled in.

At some point you stand, hands grazing the back of Rhys’ neck when you mutter something about grabbing a snack. You’re not far, maybe a few feet away, body just barely obscured by the wall that separates them and the kitchen while you pile a plate full of finger food to snack on; fruit, mini sandwiches, warm meats wrapped in flaky dough and you’re pulled away from your focus when a voice clears. “There you are,” Maverick doesn’t look shitfaced but the liquor was definitely taking its toll, his steps a little unsteady and he slurred the s’s in his words. “How about you come rub my shoulders for me, sweet thing?”

Your brows furrow, mouth opening to give a response when the males hand raises to trace the line of your collarbone, you freeze. Four fingers graze over your shoulder and slowly moves down the length of your arm. “I don’t think—“

“I’m not asking you to think, sweet thing.” Your stomach churns, discomfort evident in the way you crane away from his touch but Maverick doesn’t care—as if unreciprocated want wasn’t an issue for him. “I’m telling you to come over here and offer up some of that treatment you’ve been feeding those three,” His eyes feel like hands in the way they roam your body, catching on bare skin and practically salivating to see the rest. “Swear I’ll return the favor.”

Your heart hammers in your chest and anxiety swells—you really should’ve just stayed put, the food in your hand threatening to spill to the floor with the intensity of your shaking but Maverick feels so close and you can smell his cologne; the whiskey. “I should get back to Rhys.” It’s no more than a whisper but when you try to slink past him, a hand clamps tightly around your arm, roughly tugging you back.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

A whimper escapes and just like that the kitchen explodes with darkness; relief overtakes your form as familiar hands tug you close and the arms that tuck you in close feel right—safe. Safe enough to not notice the warm spray of wetness that splatters against the back of your legs until you hear the steady drip,drip, dripping on the floor. Your head turns but before you can look Rhysand is tucking you in tighter, full lips pressing kisses to the top of your head. “Don’t look—let’s just get you cleaned up.”

“What about the others?”

“Cassian and Azriel will handle them,” The High Lords voice isn’t nearly as calm as you remember and it’s only when you’re halfway down the hallway does he loosen his grip a bit, turning you to face him to begin his assessment. “Did he hurt you? Did he fucking touch you?”

You can’t form words, realization beginning to form when you see blood splattering your clothes but you manage to shake your head. “He just grabbed me—Rhys did you—“

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“It was just a second.”

“A second longer and he could’ve—“ He stops himself from saying more; too afraid to make the words reality or too pissed to have to verbalize them but Rhys lets out a deep breath when he can find no damage besides a hint of a bruise. “I should’ve taken my time.”

You don’t need to ask to know what he means.

Instead, you place a palm on his cheek in hopes to ground him, to remind the High Lord that you were safe. Violet eyes soften, silver flecks catching in the light and it takes everything in you not to buckle beneath him when he looks at you like that—like it was nothing to kill for you. “Let’s go, I’d say it’s about time you return the favor and give me a massage.”

Mischief glints in those eyes, a smirk curling at the corner of full lips. “I can’t promise I’ll remain professional.”

“That’s sort of what I’m counting on.”

[steventhusiast]

modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

-

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.

[plussizeficchick]

Breeder’s Digest! | Nanami x Chubby!Reader

Summary; Nanami’s always wanted kids, but there’s something about you taking care of your nieces and nephews that just get him going.

Warnings; smut(breeding kink(like huge), pregnancy kink?, cunnlingus, P in V, cockwarming(mentioned), ooc!Nanami?, not proofread(y’all know what it is))

Sn: This was originally requested by @shadofireshinobi but friend I could never do it justice like how you requested😫but I hope you like it boo💕

He truly doesn’t know what came over him.

Nanami prides himself on his self control. Sure, there are times when it becomes too much, you’re a bit too tempting, but he’s always been able to keep himself in check.

So where the fuck is that same composure?

Really, he should’ve known better when you said your nieces and nephews would be at the gathering your family was having for Christmas, he just didn’t think it’d result to this.

It just became too much, the sight of you holding your baby niece to your chest, the way you so carefully cradled her, making sure to position her head right.

It just came so naturally to you.

The way you were able to calm her when she was getting fussy, the soft way you cooed at her when she did just about anything, it was getting to him. 

The want, the need, to fuck you full of his cum, to see you nice and round with his child.

He simply couldn’t wait.

— —

You aren’t sure what’s come over Nanami.

You thought everything was fine, you were at your parents house to spend time with them and your sister, along with her new bundle of joy but as you spent time there, Nanami started to act off.

You two had broached the topic of children briefly in the past. It was a mutual agreement that you both wanted them, just when the time was right.

So you’re confused as to what spurred this reaction.

After your niece was put down for a nap, Nanami gave your family a poor excuse as to why you had to leave earlier than anticipated and all but carried you out the door.

You tried to ask what came over him, but he merely shut you down with a searing kiss, stealing your breath away. “I need you.” He groaned against your mouth. He was struggling to hold himself back, desperate to get you squirming in his cock.

You whine against his lips, pulling back just enough to ask him what happened, when he pulls you right back into him, mumbling about getting you home.

— —

After narrowly avoiding crashing, you both managed to stumble into your shared home, Nanami hoisting you up to grind your clothed core against his. “Feel me, pretty? It’s all f’you.” He murmurs against your lips, the taste of you too addicting.

You grind against him, your panties accumulating an embarrassing amount of slick as you feel his hardness. “Need you, Ken. So bad.” You whine. The friction on your clit is delicious, but you need more. 

“Gonna fill you up.” He promises, walking you to your shared bedroom. “Gonna get you nice and full of my kids.” Your heart thrums at the mention of this, pussy clenching involuntarily. Nanami quirks a brow at that, a smirk making its way to his face. “Oh? She likes the sound of that, hm?”

Your heart just about falls to your ass.

He places you on the bed and strips you both of your clothes, kissing and sucking your most sensitive areas before finally placing his mouth where you need him most.

You gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue laving over the bundle of nerves as one of his hands to reach up and tweak one of your sensitive nipples. He uses his other hand to push one of your knees up, giving him a bit more access to your center. You cry out as he licks a bold stripe up your core, his eyes demanding contact. 

“You taste so good, pretty. I wonder, will you taste different when you’re swollen with my child? Will you taste even sweeter?” He works a finger into you, thrusting shallowly at first, but as you grind your hips into him, he picks up the pace. “I can’t wait to see your tits swell with milk. You won’t ever have to worry about them being too heavy, I’ll help with that, my dear.” Your mind is too clouded to understand the double meaning behind his words, too focused on chasing your orgasm. “Please.” You beg, though, you don’t really know what you're begging for. Nanami does, however, working in a second and third finger as his tongue works wonders on your clit.

It doesn’t take long before you cum, body spasming underneath him. He works you through it, pressing tender kisses along your body before making his way to your lips. “Need to fuck you, princess. Gotta fill you up.” He murmurs against you, cock grinding into your sopping cunt. You whimper as he strokes himself through your folds just right, tip bumping against your clit every so often.

He eventually takes pity on you, slowly stretching you around his thick length as he sets a steady pace. He pulls back a little to get a good look at your face. Drool spilling down your kiss-swollen lips, eyes hazy as he has you creaming around his cock, tits bouncing deliciously as he fucks into you.

So pretty.

“Can’t wait to see my baby in you.” He groans, the image of you round and your tits swollen making him that much harder inside you. He picks up the pace, angling his hips to hit your g-spot as he thumbs your clit. “Cum for me, Princess. Make a mess for me. Please, baby.” He practically begs. His cock is near to bursting the way you're clenching around him. 

You’re tearing up, the feeling of his cock inside you almost overwhelming. Just as you begin to cry out from your orgasm, Nanami captures your lips in a messy kiss, tongues mingling together sloppily. “Gonna cum f’you, princess. Gonna fill you up and I don’t want a fucking drop spilling out. Understand?” He practically snarls in your ear. And for some reason, it has your pussy clenching. 

He spills his seed deep inside you; a deep, guttural groan escaping him as he fucks deep into you, eager to paint your womb. His large hands roam the expanse of your tummy lovingly before he’s flipping you both over so you’re laying on top of him. He presses soft kisses along your neck even though you’re both spent, basking in each other’s warmth. 

Nanami knows that it’ll take a while before you’re showing, but as you lay there cockwarming him, he can’t help but be excited for what the future will hold.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon

[vividxpages]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ ﾟ｡⋆grieving methods ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2500

summary: In the aftermath of your boyfriend's little brother's death, you try to comfort him as best as you can. (modern universe)

warnings: angst, grieving, hurt/comfort, crying, kissing and lots of tears

𓆩♡𓆪⛈

Silence greeted you as you quietly slipped into the house of your boyfriend.

You had been here countless of times before, but the rooms had always been filled with some sort of noise, keeping them busy and wonderfully alive. There usually was a warmth in them you often missed in your own home, but now it felt like all the lights had been blown out.

The funeral service had ended some hours ago, you knew that much.

You had not heard a single word from Jace since then.

You closed the door behind you, tucking away the key Rhaenyra had gifted you last Christmas, another big step of welcoming his eldest son’s girlfriend into her family. You were sure you’d gone insane today if it weren’t for the goddamn key. With no life sign of Jace, you had been worried sick all day. The service for Lucerys had been a very private one, given the nature of his tragic passing, and you had understood when you had learned only the closest family was allowed to partake.

It still didn’t mend the aching emptiness you had felt this morning, knowing deep down Jace needed you more than ever in those hours.

But you were here now. It was the least you could do.

You quietly made your way towards the staircase when you heard heavy steps across the hall, freezing. A pale and tired looking Rhaenyra emerged from the living home, her eyes puffy and exhausted as they landed on you.

You opened your mouth before she could. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before, but-  I wanted to see if there is anything I can do to help and-“

“My dear girl.” She interrupted you, stepping forward until she could cup your cheek. “There is nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve told Jace to call you earlier, but he’s been in his room for a while now and we all decided to take some time for ourselves.”

You nodded in understanding, thinking of the other members of Jace’s side of the family you had learned to love so dearly.

“I’m glad he has you, dear.” She told you, smiling sadly and turning away shortly to wipe her eyes. “Maybe he won’t show it at first, but I believe he needs you more than ever now. Go on.”

You barely could stop yourself from running up the stairs like a mad woman.

You always had known your Jace was emotional, as protective as he was loving of his family, but you had no idea what to expect now. Earlier this week, he barely had been human, void and still in shock over the loss of his little brother, but would it had changed now after they had bid Lucerys a final goodbye?

You tried to steady yourself, taking a deep breath as you knocked twice on his door.

No answer.

He needs you more than ever now.

You slipped into his room.

Jacaerys was very tidy, usually, the only mess he allowed in his room the disheveled sheets after you had tumbled into them after a night out or a long morning in bed together. But although the curtains were closed now, barely letting any grey light from outside into his little realm, you could see how he had neglected his rule in the past days. Old clothes littered the floor, a old sheets had been messily thrown over his wall of pictures over the bed, the little faces of him and Luke, you and the rest of his family hidden so they couldn’t hurt.

The sight that broke your heart though was the lump on his bed.

Jace was curled up into a ball, his back facing the room. Only his dark curls were visible underneath the blankets. His childhood plushie, a green dragon named Vermax, was peeking out from this mess and your chest tightened with emotion when you spotted Lucerys’ version, a grey dragon named Arrax, close by. Jace must’ve taken him from Luke’s room to find comfort in him…

Jace gave no sign that he had heard someone enter, laying still as if he was sleeping.

But you knew better.

You walked over to his bed, the frame creaking a tiny bit as you sat down on the edge.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand and placed it where you assumed was his bony shoulder.

No reaction.

„Jace.“ You whispered into the silence, biting your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. Right now, you needed to be there for him as he had been for you countless of times. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just- I wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me. I-I’ll go too, if that’s what you want, but I needed to check on you. I’m so, so sorry…”

For a while, nothing happened except for the tiny tremors going through Jace as you still soothingly stroked your thumb over his shoulder, trying to keep your own sadness locked within yourself for him. You were sure if you started crying with him now, you’d never stop.

But then, the sheets rustled and you held your breath as Jacaerys slowly turned around in his bed, your hand slipping from his shoulder. Your stomach tightened painfully at the sight of his swollen eyes, rimmed by redness and salty tears still running down his cheeks. His neck was blotchy as if he was still holding back sobs after hours and he was trembling all over.

He looked so helpless, so lost and utterly destroyed that you wanted to take him, lock in into your heart and never let him out again.

“Jace…” You inhaled shakily.

He surged forward, burying his face in your neck and pulling you against him as he cried, the sobs shaking him so violently you could feel them rock through your body as well. It was heartbreaking to hear and feel and you slung your arms around him tightly, trying to hold the boy you loved so much together somehow.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, tears of your own clouding your vision as you rocked him back and forth, rubbing a soothing hand over his back, brushing through his curls… You had never seen him cry like this. It felt like he was coming apart in your arms, losing it entirely but still clinging to you in the hope you’d save him.

You had no idea how much time passed as you held him in your arms, feeling him gasp for air and shake as sobs shook his entire being. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you, I- I just was- I’m sorry…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about.” You cooed, your hands finding his cheeks and trying to brush away the river he was fighting and losing against. A hiccup escaped him as he tried to make a sound of protest and you raised his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

“What can I do?” You whispered, brushing back a curl from his face. “I want to help you, my love. If there is anything…”

“I feel so heavy.” He whispered, voice raspy as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder. He still wasn’t really looking at you, but that was okay for now. “Like…I feel like today is on my skin and I’ll never be able to wash it off again.” His voice broke towards the last word and he shuddered, drawing you closer by the waist, a new wave of fresh tears dripping onto your collarbone.

You touched his chest, right over his broken aching heart and he held his breath.

Nuzzling into him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat and asked: “Do you trust me?”

Your boy had the saddest eyes in the whole world when he looked up at you. “Of course I do.” He answered in a quiet voice and you gave his hand in your lap a squeeze, slowly shuffling back so you could stand up and lead him.

You walked into the small bathroom attached to his room, a luxury you often had taken advantage of in the past. You had learned that Jace loved showers and loved them even more when you were in there with him, although those showers often ended with him on his knees and your head thrown back against the wall, trying to stifle your moans as he sensually ravished you with his tongue…

Now, he let you do what you wanted, standing completely still as you helped him undress, kicking away your own clothes in the process as you turned on the shower behind you and the room was filled with steam. When only his underwear and yours remained, you reached out a hand and led him under the spray of the shower, making sure it wasn’t too hot although that never bothered him.

You looked at him with love and sadness in your eyes and he looked right back into yours, finally allowing you to see him. His nose was running and you could see he had been biting at his lip, a little crust of red remaining on the bottom.

You tried to brush it away with your thumb and he exhaled sharply at the soft contact.

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you pressed your foreheads together, pleading: “Let me be of help.”

Carefully, you reached around him and grabbed his bodywash and a cloth. Jacaerys watched you silently, as if he could not explain himself why he was standing here, outside of his own body and mind. A fallen angel in your grasp.

Then, you began to clean him, your foam-covered hands on the body he thought dirtied and sullied by the heavy blanket of grief. He inhaled sharply at the contact, almost staggering back from the sudden gentle touch. But you moved with him and when your eyes met, both of their faces framed by your wet hair, you understood he allowed you this, allowed himself this.

Inch by inch, you washed away the imaginary dirt.

There was nothing sexual about it, you knew Jace’s body like you knew your own. He tilted back his head and closed his eyes, simply letting himself feel as your hands made their way into his hair, massaging his scalp with a layer of his shampoo, a smell you loved and made you sad now. He whimpered from the affection you offered him, unable to sort through his feelings and decide on one that needed the outlet the most.

Somewhere in-between he had begun to cry again and you softly spoke to him as you quickly rinsed off your hands, needing to touch him again, to remind him that you were here.

You slung your arms around his waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. “It’s okay.” You whispered, although nothing was okay and it wouldn’t be for a whole while. The water was dripping down your forms, both of your remaining clothes completely soaked by now. You blinked away your own salty tears once again and hoped he’d mistake them for droplets of water from the showerhead.

“Jace…”

He was already looking at you, mouth slightly open, eyes clouded.

The edges of his curls were brushing against your cheek, his lips briefly brushing against your own - and then, so quickly it gave you whiplash, his mouth was on yours, feverish and hot and bruising.

It was like falling over an edge.

A loss of control.

Jace held you impossible close, his slippery hands on your hips as he walked you backwards against the shower wall. You gasped, back aching as it hit the cold tiles, swallowing his own pained groan and for a second you wondered if you had hurt him somehow, but those thoughts quickly vanished as his tongue touched yours, the kiss becoming hurried and desperate.

You tried to keep up with his dizzying pace, holding on to his shoulders and kissing back with all your might when you suddenly realized that this was the words of grief he could not speak out loud yet. The only relief from the horrible last days he had gone through, his only shelter from the brewing storm above him.

But you also knew he was hurting and neither of you would forgive yourselves if you let this hurt go too far now.

“Jace, Jace, wait-“ You gasped against his lips, softly pushing at his shoulders until you could look at each other again, breathing heavily into the damp space between you. There was no look of bliss on his face or pleasure of what just happened between the two of you. “Let’s slow down, okay?”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry-“

“I have no right to just…use you like this.” Jace shook his head, brushing back his wet hair and shaking his head. “You wanted to help and I just make it all worse.” He gasped for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs.

“No, baby.” You murmured, taking his hand and resting it over your heart. “You’re not making anything worse and you’re not using me. Believe me, if I knew kissing you would make your pain go away, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But you’re grieving and you’re in a fragile state now. And that’s okay. But I’m here to take care of you, not make you even more unsteady, okay?”

He nodded, his bottom lip trembling. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here and- I want you to stay. Please.”

You had not planned on leaving.

You gave him a soft smile and together you made your way out of the shower, toweling each other down so you wouldn’t drip on the floor. Jacaerys murmured into your hair that he felt the tiniest bit better now, cleaner than before, and your heart nearly busted with love for this boy as you slipped a comfortable hoodie over his form and claimed one of his sleep shirts for your own.

His room was still clouded with darkness as you made your way into his bed, quietly slipping under the blankets and clinging to each other tightly. Jacaerys drew you close, inhaling your scent and sighing brokenly as your hand traced up and down his spine, the two of you sinking into his sheets like children.

Your legs tangled together, one of your legs slung over his waist and your hand buried in his curls as you listened to his breathing slowly coming down. The wing of his plushie dug into your back, but you didn’t care. You would not move, maybe not ever again if it meant his serenity.

He sighed, pressing a small kiss onto your throat before nuzzling your neck with his nose. He was utterly exhausted, on the brink of simply collapsing into unconsciousness.

Nothing was good.

You weren’t sure if it’d ever be again.

But as you held him in your arms, you knew that whatever was yet to come for him, you’d be there to stand it through, together.

[antiwhores]

omgg i saw u did an alpha bakugo and was wondering if you could do reader with a cat quirk that means so goes into heat and she has to leave class and go hide in her room because its so strong and she ends up finding a peice of bakugos clothes and she ends up masterbaiting with it then he walks in on her (cuz he got worried)

❤️❤️🫶🏻🫶🏻

Clearing out my asks (because I forgot about them) :P

It was a horrible day for you. You should’ve known you were about to go into heat.

First, you woke up way earlier than you needed to be up soaked in sweat. Then you had to get up and take a cold shower because you were sill burning up.

By fourth period, you knew what was going on when you walked by Bakugou. His scent almost made you crumble to your knees.

You tried to power through it but everything you did was sloppy. You couldn’t pay attention in class for the life of you. You kept having to take bathroom breaks too. You got your ass kicked in training with Bakugou, more than usual, because everything he got close you fumbled.

“Oi, the hell is wrong with you?” he’d ask with a mean look.

“Nothing!” You snapped. It wasn’t like you.

Bakugou, your bestfriend / crush wasn’t the only one who noticed your antics. Aizawa ended up sending you back to the dorms because he realized what was going on.

As you were walking back, heaving from the burning in your body, you noticed one of Bakugou’s sweaters laying in the commons. Without another thought, you swiped it up and ran to your room.

You got to work until a knock was heard. You checked the time, it had already been 3 hours?!

“Open up ya damn feline.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to hold back the whine that threatened to escape, quickly pulling your pants and shirt on just incase.

“Go away!” you manage to yell out.

“Open the door in three or I’ll break the fucker down!”

You fully believed him, by the time he got to two you had the door creaked open. You only planned on opening it a slither but he forced himself in.

“Is that my sweatshirt?”

You wanted to cry, so you did. You cried and you told him everything about your quirk and how you were sorry about stealing his stuff but he smelled so good and you needed something to alleviate the pain.

He doesn’t say a word as he closes the door behind him. He picks you up from where your slumped on the ground and sets you on your bed.

You almost choke as he starts to unbuckle his pants.

“You should’ve just said so, fuckin’ dumbass.”