#I think deep inside I have to know that I can do it

[dotpointping]

I think we all agree sex with Phainon would just be feral as hell. He is an awful combination of down bad and emotionally repressed. Give him an inch and he’ll go a mile. The moment you let him into your bed, you are NOT leaving until he’s filled you with his spend. But the best worst part is that every time you think he’s finished, he gets himself going again by watching all his cum leak out of your used hole.

“Just one more,” he tells his, ignoring your whines and pulling your hips back, “one more, I promise.”

Phainon is a liar. One more means one more hour. One more means one more day. He has more than enough stamina and if you so much as indicate you want to be fucked stupid… well, who is he to deny your wishes? That is what he lives for, no?

Against the wall, your personal bath, your dresser, even the balcony is not safe. Speaking of which, you’re starting to think Phainon gets off on doing it outside. One of his hands is always gagged around your mouth, hushing you and telling you you’re being too loud and to quiet down, unless you want to be caught. He says all this, all the while his other hand is ruthlessly pressed against your clit, rubbing small firm circles around your sensitive bud, ramming his hips against yours and angling himself against that soft, spongy spot deep inside that he knows makes your head feel light and stars dangle in your eyes.

Phainon is the type to pull strings and use everything in his power to clear his schedule if it means he can spend a whole day just fucking you. Whether or not you’re conscious for that entire session is entirely dependent on how well prepared you are for him. He’ll coo at you during sex, ask if you’re too tired and if you want to rest. It’s so condescending and he laughs when you nod yes, just to keep going like you aren’t about to pass out underneath him.

“Come on, love, I’m almost done… just keep it up, you’re doing so, so well for me…”

Phainon would go until he shoots blanks. You may think you’re safe by then, but you aren’t. He nestles his head around your legs, kissing your sensitive thighs and nipping the skin lightly, coaxing you down from your last high. It’s the first kiss to your overstimulated cunt that you realize what he intends to do. You can push him away all you like, but he intends to feast on you while he still can.

Mydei, on the other hand, I feel you have to coax into bed. You can drop all the hints in the world, trail your hand up and down his chest, tease the hem of his pants, tell him your dirtiest fucking desires for him and he’ll still tell you no (but you can best bet you’re the reason he starts praying to every god in Amphoreus. Cerces, bless him to keep sound of mind and withstand the urges of pouncing you. He is reason, he is reason, he is reason—) The only real effective way to get him to fuck you the first time is by inviting him to your room and then stripping yourself bare. Even then, you STILL have to talk him into it.

Mydei is a gentle lover. He’s aware of his size and stature and how easily he can hurt you. His hands have committed more atrocities than he can count. They have torn the heads of his enemies, crushed bone and flesh, and spilled blood countless times. He doesn’t want to hurt you. Goodness no. He’d never forgive himself if he did.

Hence why you have to sweet talk him, practically beg him have to have his way with you. You have to tell him you won’t be satisfied until you’re fucked within an inch of your life and your guts have been rearranged. Taunting also works. He may be afraid to hurt you, but above all else he can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else. You are one of a few good things in his life and god forbid he fumbles this one.

“Fine. I guess I’ll just go find that Deliverer—”

There’s nothing more effective than that. Is it cheap? Yes. It is. But, it gets the job done.

In his hands, you’re going to be stretched and bent in ways you never thought possible. Poking a sleep lion is never a good idea, especially when you don’t have the energy to keep up with him. But, you’ve been teasing him for months on end, so it’s only fair he gets his fill of you.

Sex with Mydei can be quite slow, with three fingers stretching you wide and his tongue lapping your cunt. You have to cum at least three times before he even thinks about slipping his cock inside. If you aren’t delirious by then, then you’re absolutely gone when his cock sinks inside. We all know this man is packing, it’s a struggle no matter how well prepped you are. You’re creaming around him just from the stretch alone, and you have a moment of panic where you aren’t sure he’s going to fit. But, ever the attentive lover, he’ll hush your worries away and press soft circles against your clit, massage your breasts, pinch your sensitive nipples, distract you until he finally bottoms out.

“Please, please, please, Mydei…” you can whine, wrap your arms tight around him and pull him close, kiss him sloppy and messy until you’re reaching another high from him simply grinding into you.

He’s hypnotized, hooked on the feeling of you, taste of you, everything about you. He fulfills your every wish of being pummeled deep inside, massaging your walls with every thrust, the head of his cock pressed against the most sensitive spots, with your every breath becoming nothing more than short punched out gasps.

Unfortunately, however, while Phainon is more than eager to fuck his cum inside you, getting Mydei to cum inside is an entirely different matter. He’s so afraid of continuing his lineage in such unstable times, not to mention, he doesn’t want to burden you with his child. But, once you DO convince him that it’s fine, something in his head gets rewired and the idea of ‘gentle’ gets tossed out when he spills inside you for the first time and sees just how excited it makes you. He then has an existential crisis because now he can’t imagine sex any other way and he’s aching to do it again.

Sex with Phainon is easy because he wants to please you and fulfill every dirty dream he’s ever had of you.

Sex with Mydei is a mind game, where you have to ease him in at first, then assure him three-hundred different times that: yes, you want him and yes, you know what you are doing.

[neuary]

You're all I can think of, every drop I drink up.

MINORS DNI!! MINORS DNI!! MINORS DNI!! MINORS DNI!!

contents ⇀ Manager!Mc, AFAB reader, titsucking, fingering, handjob, B.Saja hates your guts (at first but then he starts fucking it), Lots of petnames from him and he calls you 'manager' a lot here, mentions of alcohol, lots of teasing from him, switch reader(and a lil of B.saja), I give him a name here because I refuse to call him Baby Saja the whole time.

side note — im also planning on making a whole lore about how Mc became their manager and yes im calling the reader mc bcs im a LADS fangirl and have grown used to it LOLL

Your impression of him had been sour. 

He'd often express great disliking towards you because a mortal human would be handling their group. And the fact that you made a deal with Gwi-Ma for this job just made you more irritating. 'Human greed as always.' He'd say, as if his words held no hypocrisy. But you'd always try to remain professional, putting up with his mean remarks masked as 'criticism' as well as the obvious glares whenever you're in the same room. 

He hated you and you did your best to work around that.

Your first proper interaction happened late at night when he found you drinking alone in the bathroom. You looked like a mess. Hair sticking out in different directions as tears stained your cheeks, the sight looked absolutely pathetic he just had to sit and watch.

You offer him a drink and he accepts because who says no to alcohol? Well not him.

He drinks with you, watching as you take in sips of the booze directly from the bottle. Nothing he hasn't seen before, human nature at its lowest point. You start to spill out your thoughts, telling him about how hard it is to be their manager, and even if he didn't care to listen you had to let it out as a drunken statement just for tonight.

He listens and may or may not have been reminded of his humanity. He still didn't like you, but you were tolerable as of now.

And from that point on, you'd both drink together late at night in the bathroom, time to time. He let it happen, maybe because the fact that you're drunk means you wouldn't be able to remember much of what he's saying. Or maybe because the company you both shared on the cold tiled floor just felt nice.

Then one night he enters the bathroom and he sees you there fully sober. "Hey." You greet him. Opposed to the usual, "Babbbyyyyyyy!" That'll leave from your lips every time you see a blur of blue hair in your drunken state.

"Not drinking tonight?" He asks, his expression blank as he sits next to you.

"No.. I'll just get a hangover and it'll make the job worse for me."

"We just ran out of booze didn't we?"

"Yeah that too I guess."

Silence falls between you two, and you soon ask him a sober question.

"What's your real name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Calling you 'Baby' is a little too awkward for me."

"With how many times you've said it, I'm surprised."

Your face flushes as you look down.

"I was drunk those times okay?.. But you don't have to tell me, It's not—"

"Daewon."

You look at him, surprised that he'd actually tell you. "So is it fine if I call you that now?"

"I don't really care." 

Is what he said, though he didn't expect to be caring about it at all now that he has you in his bed. Underneath him, half naked, your panties pushed to the side as his fingers pushed in and out of you. 

"Daewon..!" You'd say in between his thrusts, your face flushed and hidden behind your hands. 

The sight thrilled him, wanting to push you further. 

"I want to see you, manager." He coos, leaning down to tease you more. His free hand moves yours away from your face, you could tell how much he enjoyed your reactions with just his breathing alone. "Well aren't you pretty? Haha.. Want me to go faster?" 

"Mghh..! Please! Fffuck..!! I.." 

"Mm, yeah? What is it manager?" 

"Yyou're.. Aaahh..! Sssuch a prick..mmm!" 

"Watch it, beautiful. I'm the one knuckles deep inside this pussy, do you really think you should be speaking to me like that?" 

God he's such an asshole. But really, that only turned you on. Every taunt that came out of his mouth made you writhe and whine at the palms of his hand, the very same palms that groped at your body, taking your clothes off bit by bit, unclasping your bra as he asks if he can have a taste. 

It came out more teasing than asking though, the shiteating grin on his face as vexatious as ever. "Wanna taste you so bad gorgeous, you'll let me right?" 

"Just do it already..mmghh.." 

"Oh but it seems like you don't want me to." 

"Daewon, I swear to god—Aghh..!" 

You can feel the smirk that forms on his lips as he starts to suck on your chest. 

"You like my name a lot?" He kisses at your collar bone, "Gonna scream it out for me?" He licks down up until your cleavage, his other hand still working on making you cum as the other holds your tit directly at his tongue. He puts it in his mouth, sucking and lapping up at your nipple, letting it go with a pop as he gives the same attention to the other. You continue to whine complaining about the pace he's going, your pussy clenching at his fingers. 

The way your eyes sharply squints at his direction has every vein in his body quiver, the electrifying feeling of it pulsing up until his cock. He needed you, so bad but he still wanted to test how desperate you can get. 

"You're complaining a lot but this cunt tells me otherwise.. hah.. mm, show me how bad you want it yeah?" His hands take a break from fondling your breasts, leading you to feel the bulge in his pants. "Show me.. mm..ah.. I know you want to.." 

You hesitate, because you want to get him back thanks to how pent up he's made you. 

But the look he gave you leaves you torn with the options you had in mind. "Is it my turn to beg?" He chuckles, "You're so cute.. hah.." 

"You're sssoo.. mmghhff..ffuck.. I hate how good yyyou.. aare at thisss.. aaa...nnmmhhh.!" 

"Flattery won't get you anywhere but my cock, gorgeous... Haha.. Keep going, yeah?" 

He pulls your hand onto the tent in his pants, making you more feel more hotter than before. He felt big.. No, he is big. With a face like his you wouldn't expect it at all, and the way he's looking at you suggests that he's intent on making you remember that. 

"Feel that? That's all you." He smiles before kissing you, his lips traveling down to your collar and chest once again. He groans at your touch, smiling against your skin as he feels you give in to his request. "Mmhh.. That's right.. Stroke my cock." 

You place your hand at the base of his bulge before going at the hem of his pants, taking his cock out. You start out slow, teasing him back by grazing your fingertips onto his shaft, softly going up and down. 

"Please. You can do better than that." He whispers directly at your ear, his words coming out more as a demand. 

"You can beg better than that." You bite back, earning another smile from the demon. His fangs are visible as he bites at your shoulder without warning, slobbering it up after with kisses and licks. 

"So it is my turn after all. 'Want it fifty-fifty, is that it?" 

"Mmghh.! ..ahh" You could feel his fingers press harder into your pussy, his thumb bundling up your clit to stimulate you further, "Daewon..ahhh just..mmghh.. ffuhh.. fff..fuckk..!" 

"Fffuhh..ffuuuhh?" He mocks, quickening his pace, "ffuuuckkkkk you? Haha.. mmmghh, that what you want from me, gorgeous?" 

You felt even more flushed with the names he keeps throwing at you, unable to keep up but still unwilling to drown into his control. 

"Yeahh ahhhggg... So what iff..I do?.. You're supposed to..mmm do what I say anyway..ahh.." 

"If you're gonna be so demanding you should try not look so good while getting fingered by me, manager.. haha." His voice was a low, wicked murmur, his breath hot against your ear. Each word sent shivers down your spine, making you arch into his touch instinctively. He chuckled darkly, a sound of pure satisfaction.

"Mmm, you're so responsive, manager... I can feel you clenching.. Craving more." 

You could feel the hard length of him pressing insistently into your palm, a silent promise of what was to come. He was teasing you, pushing you to the brink of desperation with his slow, sensual thrust. He just needed you to beg for it. To really beg for it. To scream your desire out to him so he can finally have you right then and there. You wanted it as bad as he did didn't you? Your pretty face says it all as he tries his hardest to hide the look on himself.  

He drank in the sight. The desperate need written plainly across your features, the hunger that mirrored his own. The thought of it made him twitch, knowing he could reduce you to this state with just his touch and teasing words. His ego swelled at the realization, cock throbbing with anticipation. His lips brushes against yours in a ghost of a kiss, not quite touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating from them. He moves back onto your breasts, the slick of his drool drips down, his eyes stuck to yours. "Come on, gorgeous... mm.." He places a peck on your nipple, "Don't hold back now. I want to hear you scream my name like you mean it.." He heavily sighs, "Fuck, the way you look at me, like you need me more than your next breath... it's fucking intoxicating."

His fingers held both your tits in place, allowing him to suck and lick as he pleases as the other continued stroking and circling your clit. He could feel the slick heat of your arousal coating his fingers, and it took every ounce of control not to simply surge forward and bury himself inside you.

"Daaaewon..mmmm aghh fffuckk..!"

"Tell me how badly you want it, manager. Beg me for it." His voice was a low, dark rumble, sending vibrations through your chest. He nipped at your chest, soothing the sting with a flick of his tongue before pulling back slightly to search your eyes. "I need to hear it.." The tone of his voice almost let out a crack of neediness. 

"The way your pretty face flushes, the way you tremble and moan so sweetly... it's driving me insane. So be a good girl and give me what I want, yeah?"

He punctuated his demand with a sharp thrust of his fingers, pushing deep and curling against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, the dual stimulation pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. He was close, so fucking close to snapping, to giving in to the urge to just take you. But he needed to hear you say it. 

You soon snap, having enough of his teasing. 

But you didn't dare beg. Hell no. 

You retaliate, squeezing at his cock so suddenly, not enough to hurt but to get a reaction from the demon. His eyes shot open, lips letting go of your breasts as he lets out a strained moan. "Aghhmm..!? What the fuck are y..! Ahhhgg..mmm.." 

You rub your thumb over the tip of his dick, stroking him every few seconds as you switch between both actions. He starts to pant like a dog, too immersed from your touch to even notice that you've switched positions with him. A strangled moan tore from his throat, the sound a mix of surprise and pleasure as your hand tightened around his aching cock. His hips jerked forward, seeking more of that delicious friction, and he found himself momentarily short of words.

"Nnngghh... fuck..." He gasped out, his voice ragged and raw. The feeling of your thumb swirling around the sensitive head of his cock sent electricity up his spine, making him shudder and groan. He was so fucking hard, his dick twitching and leaking, desperate for more. 

The power dynamic had shifted, and the realization sent a thrill of excitement through him. He gazed up at you, eyes glinting with a mix of annoyance and arousal. A smirk tugged at his lips, slowly spreading into a wicked grin. "Hahh.. Playing hard to get? mm.. I didn't tell you to do that..hah.." He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you down against his straining erection. He rolled his hips upwards, grinding against your slick heat and letting out a low groan.

You visibly react, shuddering at his length that's underneath your sex. 

"You think you're sooo clever hm? Haha. You have no idea how dangerous it is to tease a demon like this." His voice was a low, seductive rumble, his eyes glinting with predatory intent. 

"Your cock is telling me otherwise." You compose yourself, tugging at his cock sensually. He hisses, the friction making him even more aroused. "Haha.. mgh.. You're sooo cute." You mock, copying the tone of his voice. 

He made no move to reclaim control, instead letting you continue. He arched into your touch, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, allowing you to set the pace. It was a small victory, but a sweet one nonetheless. You could feel your own heart racing in your chest, your breaths in each other's faces as you come closer to have a quick taste of his lips. 

The air was thick with the scent of sex. He could see the hunger in your eyes as you gazed down at him, and it only fueled his own desire.

"So, what now, gorgeous?" He looks up at you, placing a hand on your lower back. 

You remove his touch on you, pinning his hand onto the bed, the back of his head thumps against the headboard. 

Breathless, you gaze down at him as you shift to strip your panties off "Now.. ha.. You sit there and take it." 

He found it adorable. So fucking sexy how you think you could boss him around like this. And honestly he's going to let you. What a sweet little mortal 'putting him in his place' like this when she can barely glare daggers at him in her state. 

"Do your worst princess." 

You crumple up your undergarments, shoving the fabric into his mouth without a second more to spend. He looked very shocked, rightfully so but his cock only felt more harder in your fingertips. 

You position his erection underneath you. Slowly, you sit down, feeling his size sink and throb inside you. You couldn't help but squeal, voice becoming higher in pitch as your breath gets heavy. You convulse onto him, your body fluttering, almost cumming on the spot. 

You move, his cock slipping in and out of you easily because of how soaked you got from his fingers. The sudden motion startles him, his hands fly right at your hips, gripping intensely. 

"Mmmgghhfff..!" The sound of his groans were drowned out by the panties gagging him shut. Your panties, fuck they tasted so good. They tasted like you and he can't wait to bury his face into them. 

"You're such a prick.. mghh.. Always.. haa.. being sso difficult." 

You say in between moans as you ride him, bouncing on his cock. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth around the fabric gagging him. The way you moved on his cock has Daewon mentally reminding himself to hold back, your slick walls gripping him like a vise, made it impossible for him to feel genuinely irritated. 

"Always making..ahh hhh.. Things so difficult for me.. haa.. fuckinggmm.! ssadist.."

He bucked his hips up to meet your downward thrusts, driving himself deeper into you. It was hard not to show the visible look of pleasure across your face, but you made sure to not break, still glaring daggers at him even with the fast pace of your breathing. You muster up a handful of self control to get a handful of his hair, tugging him towards you as you bite into his lip before removing the undergarments in his mouth. The cotton white panties hangs between your teeth as you pull away from him. He lets out a deep sigh, his breathing still shaky, matching yours as well as the way you move on his cock. 

"Aww..haaha.. I wanted to keep that." He grins, drool dripping from his mouth. His hands move to caress your back, a silent praise emitting from the skin ship. 

You drop the panties, using both hands to grip at his shoulders. 

You refuse to give him the satisfaction of a response from you, quickly shoving your tongue down his throat to shut him up.  He kisses back, your sounds clash together as he devours you like a starving man. You keep going, writhing as the taste of him engulfs your mouth like fire. The flavor of sweet mintiness spreads. 

He's the first to pull away, not bearing another second apart from your tits as he instantly smothers them with sloppy kisses. You tug on his hair, groaning curses and fucked out phrases that you don't even realize you were saying. His name felt so good on your tongue. "Daewon.." You'd whine. 

"Daewon.." 

He starts to go faster, fuckinh into you more. 

"Daewon ahh.." 

You match his pace, compelled to experience release. 

At this point you couldn't tell who was in charge, you both gave into your own hormonal urges, ravaging each other like animals. 

"Fuck...O ffuuck.. You feel so good, manager.." He whispers, still having his mouth pressed against your breasts. He just can't get enough. "I'm so close.. ahh.. hhh ha.."  

"Yyyeah? mmm.." You attempt to taunt him. "Already? hahahhh..." 

He laughs, pulling you closer to him, your tits flushed and pressed against his neck as he looks at you with a determined expression, grinning knowingly. "Look me in the eye and tell me.. ha.. you're not as desperate as I am to cum." 

Your smug expression falters, amusing him further. 

"Tell me, manager.." 

"Just..ahhh... mm..kkeep fucking me." 

He lets out another laugh, his smile wider as he thrusts harsher into you. 

"Yes ma'am." 

The pace intensifies and both your expressions drop into uncontrollable pleasure, eyes rolling back as well as squeezing shut once the orgasm in you snaps. Both of you grip on each other as if for your dear life. He felt so good, he felt so fucking good and you didn't know if you hated that he did or not. He was definitely sure however, that you felt the closest thing to heaven. Like a bottle of alcohol, he's sure he'll be getting addicted soon.

Im so sorry, I hope this was worth the wait yall <3

—neu

[dabaotogo]

Return to Sender

soulmate au but with yandere phainon

tw: yan content, phainon crashing out, implied coercion/ forced relationship

written before 3.4

wc: 1k

minors and ageless blogs do not interact with my posts. i do check and i do block

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He's thought about his soulmate countless times.

It kept him up during sleepless nights. Back when his world hadn't been forced to expand just yet; when the edges of his world just happened to align with the walls of his village. Sometimes he'd spend those nights outside on the fields staring up at the star-littered sky with his big wide eyes while he imagined how the first meeting would entail. What do you think they'll look like? He'd occasionally rope in Cyrene with his questions, swinging his feet as he looked to the sky. Would they be taller than him? A pretty voice that reminded him of wind chimes on the first day of spring? He would come up with all sorts of scenarios, vividly crafted together into something beautiful, something tangible, alongside with what his first words would be to the one he knew he would happily spend the rest of his life with.

He's pestered his parents. Talked their ears off into giving as much detail as to how they found each other through their own red string that no one else could see but them. The feeling of meeting your other half. The happiness in following the other end of the rope.

Every word of his parents' union had been memorialized inside his head. He knew every detail off by heart and he saw the adoration reflected in their eyes, how their smiles had matched, the entwined hands that he'd imagined were adorned in red threads.

The idea of a soulmate — even after losing his home — his friends — his family — that there was still something good left that had survived and remained untouched by the black tides. There was still something at the other side. That his life was more than just revenge and hate. Something at the other end of the rope that could keep him going. Tucked away. Protected and hidden from the cruelties of a harsh and lonely world that belonged to a boy who had only ever wanted to be his village's little hero.

(Unblemished. Pure. Unstained.)

Which is why it breaks him. Tears him into tiny little pieces to the point it feels like every part of him is dying from his soulmate rejecting him.

The string thickens the closer the soulmate is. Twisting itself together to form something more akin to a rope and less of a flimsy thread. The kind he's seen fishermen on their boats use to knot around a heavy anchor before being thrown into the sea to sink down in the deep waters. Held in place.

The colour is a bright red. A beautiful shade.

You won't look at it. You won't even look at him. At the thing tied around your wrist to his own. He sees what looks like to be disappointment from the ways your eyes are casted downwards, mouth forming a small quiet oh. Like it had to be him of all people. As if you had hoped it would have been someone else. Perhaps there had already been a face in your mind. There is no fanfare. No smooth first words designed to swoop you off your feet. Just an agonisingly awkward silence hanging above both your heads where the two of you are standing to the side in the quieter parts of Okhema's market alleyway, away from the bustle and for some privacy.

Phainon wants to cry.

He almost loses it. Almost taking it out on you. Scaring you by begging for a reason. He couldn't even fathom the possibility as it had never been on his mind. It would have been easier had you even had an existing lover. At least there would have been a reason (motive).

You're just scared. It's natural. It's to be expected to be overwhelmed by the idea of knowing he is your fated one just as he is yours. He's a Chryso Heir. The fame and status is hardly helping his situation here.

He supposes even if you were soulmates, you're still technically strangers.

But that's okay. He can be patient. He can be good. For you. He can give you space as you get to know him better. He'll endure every sting when you shirk away from his touch. Just give him a chance and you'll see. He can show you that he can make you happy. So what if the first meeting had gone terribly? Who cares if his first words were all jumbled and practically incoherent, lost to his nervous laugh. This was what love was. It wasn't perfect. It was ugly. It was addicting.

The threads may tangle itself into an terrible mess of a mishappen shape to choke on.

But it will never break.

(You can run to the other side of the universe and he'll still find you. All he has to do is follow the red string.)

Love is selfish. It was selfishof him. And it was wrong. Using the string to tug you back when you try to avoid him. Announcing to the people he too had found his beloved and what followed was a cacophony of erupted cheers. He makes sure the people commit your face to their memories. So that there is always congratulations ready on hand and the occasional envious stare to the side. So that you're isolated (reduced down) to just being his soulmate.

You can't leave him.

If you do act out, lashing out at him. Intent on leaving him (you can't), all he has to do is pull firmly. Yank the red cord with all his might. He's not above it. He is stronger after all. It's a little mean. A little childish. You may stumble and trip over and fall. But Phainon will be more than happy to rush over and soothe any scraped knees. He'll kiss the bruises away, make it hurt less and wipe any tears that drip down your face. Provide the comfort you deserve as he hushes the sound of your cries.

He caught you trying to cut the string the other day.

Walking in to see your desperation spill over, the kitchen knife shaking terribly in your one hand. Your bounded wrist on the chopping block. You swallowed hard. Raising the thing above your head.

He disarmed you before you could go through with it.

But even if you could. Sever the fate connecting the two of you together. Phainon will only pick up the pieces and tie them back together.

Even without it, he knows he is forever bound to you.

So just accept him as your soulmate already.

[writingwordsgayly]

“Why have you come here child? You do know what this school is yes?” I nod, this is called the school of truth, it is mainly for monks and people who wish to achieve a higher self above even meditation.

“You do know you will not achieve renown for your studies? Infact most of my students leave here disinterested in fame or fortune” I nod again, I have spent many years working as a bard, joining parties that seem fun, and leaving once someone looks underneath the lies she stands tall “of you can speak explain to me why you have ventured all the way here, up a mountain and through the snow, you do not look like most my students but I will allow you to prove yourself as worth our time” I nod and struggle through my next words

“I have come to you not to find a greater truth, I only seek my own truth. For I have told every lie that there is, and I lost myself long ago” I bow slightly, having not get this exposed since I was a child travelling a amongst con-men and grifters

“Tell me your name” I open my mouth to speak but close it soon after I sigh and open my mouth again

“I lost it, in the desert, I left it in a tent with the only person I have ever loved, I begged her to keep it safe for when I return, hopefully changed man”

She looks deep into my eyes and I feel In my soul she will know if I lie, I sigh in relief hoping I can actually heal, not the act I have fallen into before

“Her name?” Is all she says I close my eyes and think deeply, the years have faded the gentle smile from memory but the hate filled glare when she unraveled my lies had remain, the sting of seeing her heartbreak “it was Eliza” the headmistress tilts her head “was?” I take a deep breath

“She changed it, she changed her name and lit the letter containing my name on fire at her wedding” the mistress nods and I feel her pity

“You may train young one, but know, your lies will not work here, on anyone” tears drop down my eyes at those words that is what I wanted most.

The first week of the worst, that’s what everyone tells me, and at first I believe it, but after the first month passes I wonder if I can weather this storm, every hour spent meditating pushed me further into a wall I built to guard a child long forgotten, I scream at the moon some nights, the mistress standing besides me after my second month she sits besides me and says

“You are fighting one of the hardest fights child, these scholars know what lies inside, many took oaths long ago to speak only truth, but you, you have never told the truth, even to yourself, especially to yourself, we will start small then, for you just first learn what truth is before you may speak it”

"My parents taught me that truth can be bought. That everyone is a liar and only money is honest. I learnt how to lie before I learnt how to speak. 'Our word against theirs' was our family motto. But... I don't want to be like that anymore. I want to tell the simple, honest truth, just once."

[bambiihee]

breeding with soobin perhaps? 🥺 I’m so tired of him looking all sexy without me in between his legs …

SOOBIN BREEDING KINK !!!!! genuinely so unwell about him it’s not even funny… can’t stop thinking about subby soobin and creampies…

c𝔴༚ smut, nsfw content. dubcon, babytrapping, breeding kink, sub!soobin, femdom!reader, implied older reader (use of noona), cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk, whiny soob

everyone’s always talking about soobin babytrapping you but never you babytrapping soobin… riding subby!soobin after a concert, he’s so sweaty and red faced and worn out >_< just lying there panting and moaning because he doesn’t have the energy or strength to move !! his big cock is sooo thick and hard inside of you, red n swollen and leaking, he’s been pent up for hours and needs you to take care of him :’(

his fat cockhead kisses your cervix so deliciously every time you grind down on him, his pretty moans growing higher and more staccato the closer he gets to his release. cute airy little “ah, ah, ah!”s like he’s the one getting fucked hehe >//< crying and shaking with his big hands wrapped around your waist making you feel so small, but he doesn’t apply any pressure, just lets them rest there as you do all the work, holding on for dear life with his fingernails digging into your skin lol

when he told you he didn’t have a condom on him, you said it didn’t matter, but now soobin’s getting nervous cos you won’t get off of him even as he squirms and tries to pull himself out of you— your hands scratching deep red lines down his abs and biceps as you continue to bounce on him with determination,, “w-wait, noona, you gotta-agh! get off! no, stop, i’m gonna cum inside if you don’t get off—!”

it’s cute how he pretends that isn’t what he wants, thrashing underneath you crying like he’s powerless. he’s so much bigger than you, could manhandle you with ease if he wanted to, yet he quivered and whined beneath you with his eyes full of stars. you ignore his pleas, grinning with ecstasy as you plant your feet down on either side of him and fuck yourself onto him as hard and fast as you can.

“cum inside of me!” you mewl down at him, hungrier than you’ve ever been before. “i know you want it! come on, breed me, fill me up and show everyone i’m yours. be a good boy and make me a mommy, you can do it!”

cooing sweet soft “good boy!”s in his ear as he sobs with the impact of his orgasm, washboard abs convulsing from the power of it. hot sticky cum fills your womb til it’s spilling out around his cock, still half-hard deep inside of you— soobin cums and cums and it’s like it never stops, filling you up so full it feels like you’re going to burst. you plant loving little kisses on soobin’s cheeks and pouty bunny lips, still trembling and whining. “such a good boy for noona, aren’t you?”

[vanillasweetpie]

Ok hear me out. During the softball adventure in episode 5 Jax see’s afab! Reader flirting with evil Jax which leads to him getting jealous and deciding to show reader why he’s better than that submissive ass faker. (Reader and Jax can have an unestablished relationship to make writing it easier)

better than you .ᐟ jax x reader

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, degradation, dirty talk, brat reader, dumbification, jealousy, softball setting, w/ anti jax voyeurism, jax is pissed, “good girl” once used

you should’ve known better than to flirt in front of Jax. but then again, you’d never claimed to be wise.

the bat swung loose in your grip as Kinger’s encouraging voice droned in the background. you weren’t listening, not really. more than all, not when anti-Jax had cute twitchy ears and a cute habit of nervously tapping his fingers. he shuffled toward you, hands behind his back. you smiled without even meaning to. poor thing didn’t know what to do with himself.

coming closer to him, you smiled with your lashes, leaned your hip against his thigh, and asked him if he’d catch you if you tripped while running. anti Jax stuttered. “i-i-if you tripped? um uhh yeah! o-of course!!” awwh, like he was saving a puppy from a fire. it was cute. easy. too easy.

and you were bored. the game dragged and your ass hurt from standing, so you leaned into it, told him he looked adorable trying to hold the bat without trembling, he let out quiet little oh gosh that made your stomach twist.

and it would’ve stayed innocent. or fake-innocent. but Jax saw you, his voice slinking into the conversation from behind you, ”wow, really slumming it today, huh?” and you didn’t even turn to look. only chuckled, “you bored or just mad he’s sweeter than you?”

which was a mistake.

“oh look at you,” Jax said discontentedly. “getting off teasing my broken mirror.”

“you jealous?”

that made him laugh. “jealous?” he echoed. “dollface, you think i’m threatened by that shy little scrap trying not to pop a boner in his pants?”

“uhh, n-nice game by the way!” anti Jax mumbled, trying to defuse the situation.

your Jax didn’t give you time to come up with a reply, roughly guiding you away from the field, behind the dugout. 

“aw, poor baby,” you cooed. “didn’t like me talking about your little substitute?”

he didn’t speak but you anyways let him press you against the wall. your underwear was tugged down with a single impatient movement, his hands pushed up your skirt. Jax’s palm slid between your thighs to confirm what he already suspected. ah, yeah, his doll is already wet, good. spitting on his fingers anyway, Jax ran them between your legs even though you were already ready for him, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

“‘little’? oh, you wanna play today.”

Jax pushed in, as always, no warning except the sudden stretch of him filling you all at once, and your mouth dropped open in a gasp that barely made it past your lips. your body arched, involuntarily trying to either take more or escape the sheer overwhelming pressure, but he didn’t let you move. one arm braced around your waist, the other pressing your thigh higher, keeping you exactly where he wanted, slipping his cock deeper into your tight pussy. 

he grinned, baring his teeth. “yeah, this what you wanted, huh? wanted to play flirty little slut while i’m the one stretchin’ you out like this?”

you blinked. ugh. . .the censoring noise cut through the moment, as always so absurdly misplaced that for a second you almost laughed, almost. but you couldn’t, not really, not when his hips snapped forward again and your laugh turned into a high cry.

helpless, you couldn’t speak. too full and breathless. and every time you tried to inhale, Jax thrusted forward again, hitting so deep it felt like you were being split apart from the inside. fast, rough and greedy, as he couldn’t stand the idea of not being inside you for even a second longer than he had to.

you tried to hold on, to make sense of anything. but unfortunately, your hips began to move in answer to him, slow, desperate rolls, grinding up into each thrust and the moment Jax felt your needy push back, he leaned closer. 

“oh, now you’re moving” he hissed, and the intonation didn't sound like a question at all, “there she is. can’t help yourself, can you? tryna milk me already, pretty thing? ohh dollface my pretty little dollface.”

but you couldn’t stop, couldn’t help it. a sweet thick feeling in the lower abdomen only grew with every movement. the way Jax kept hitting that sensitive tender spot over and over, it was cruel. perfect for a little brainless toy like you.

every thrust knocked stars loose in your skull as it forced you tighter around him. Jax was pounding you into the wall, muttering filth in your ear, words you didn’t want to hear but never wanted him to stop saying. “tight little hole actin’ like she’d rather take his faker’s cock,” he hissed, voice shaking from how deep he was. “bet you were thinkin’ about how his might feel inside you, huh? tell me, slut, wanna compare?”

you moaned into his hand, trembling hard, then, between whimpers, slurred it out. “mmfhh— i’d scream so much louder if it were him fucking me. . .“

Jax went feral. “you little brat” he snarled, snapping his hips forward so hard your back arched off the wall. “say that shit again. go on. say it while i fuck your brains out.”

“Ja-jax—“ you were suffocating.

“nah, fuck that,” he spat, slapping a hand over your mouth, the other digging into your ass, holding you so you don't twitch too much. “you act like a cockslut in front of him, now you take what’s comin’ to you.”

you gasped, legs spreading wider, needing more as you felt yourself leaking onto his cock. “mhm. . .he said i had good form,” dumbfounded, you laughed a little, even as your voice shook. “w-what can i say? it got me going.”

Jax’s grip tightened, his hips snapped forward hard enough to make you choke on the laugh. “oh you think his dick could ever fuck you like this? think he even knows what to do with you?”

you moaned before you could stop yourself. “y-yees. . .” the answer came, teasing, barely able to speak through the rhythm of his thrusts. “hngh, he’d be better than you. his dick’s probably bigger and nicer, y’know. . .oh god”

with that, Jax’s rhythm broke a little, and your body hit the wall again and again, the friction burning but you didn’t care.

“hahha, keep talkin’ like that and i’ll fuck you so deep you forget how to lie.” the truth was, you couldn’t. you were slurring nonsense now, tears streaking the corners of your dazed eyes, too far gone to pretend you were still playing, already forgetting how to talk. your legs were shaking, mouth open but useless.

Jax grabbed your face again, thumb dragging along your jaw. “don’t go quiet now. thought you had a mouth on you. or does it only run when you’re talking about how good his dick would feel?”

”mmfhh— no no no. i know his cock would make me cum harder than you ever could. . . l-looser, you are such a loser, Jax. . .”

perhaps this one was unnecessary. “oh yeah? that right?” asked a serious voice from behind, and you barely had time to nod before Jax’s grip twisted harsh on your hips and he rammed into you so hard, so deep, you saw white.

your breath punched out of you in a broken sob, toes curling as his cock slammed into your cervix. you couldn’t even move anymore, Jax was holding you up like a doll, using you, splitting you open on his cock

“say it again,” he growled, hitting so deep as if trying to mark your womb. “say it again, bitch. go ahead. c’mon. talk shit now.”

you tried to answer, really, you did, but it came out a garbled, wet moan, tongue lolling past your lips as he drove into you like a hammer, ruining your pussy. “that’s what i thought,” Jax chuckled, hand grabbing the back of your neck and pushing your face against the wall as he rutted into you, relentless. “talk all that pretty little shit, but the second i’m deep enough to knock sense into that bratty brain, you forget how to fuckin’ speak.”

you whimpered, drooling, arching back into him like a needy animal, chasing the feeling of his cock pounding so deep you could feel it in your lungs. your nails scratched helplessly at the wall.

“yeah, there it is. . .now you’re fuckin’ mine. this pussy’s mine. doesn’t matter what kind of fake-ass dick he’s got. hey what happened, huh? tongue tied now that i’m deep enough to shut you?”

you sobbed, legs twitching from how good it felt, how much it hurt, how completely it had stolen your brain away. and Jax felt it, how your cunt tightened around him like a vice, sucking him in deeper, deeper, deeper until his tip was kissing your cervix with every thrust.

he chuckled against your neck. “oh yeah. knew it. your slutty little hole just needed a real cock to fuck the stupid outta you. don’t worry, baby, i got plenty more where that came from.”

weak, you tried to warn Jax you were close but the words fell apart in your throat. “Jax— im— oh, oh!“

“yeah, baby, come on. right on this cock, huh . . . good girl. yeahh, that’s it. milk it. take all of it.” shit, stupid censorship right before “good girl” was ridiculous but it didn’t matter when you were already shaking, the orgasm crashing over you too fast, too much. your head dropped against his shoulder, broken sounds escaped you as your pussy clenched around him, pulsing and tight.

Jax groaned, feeling that, and didn’t stop moving until he bottomed out, burying himself with one last grinding thrust before his hips jerked, once, twice, and then he spilled into you, shuddering, holding you tight.

silence.

you slumped forward, trembling, the only thing keeping you up was the wall and Jax’s grip. he pulled out slow, dragged fingers through the mess leaking out of you, then slapped your ass hard enough to make you yelp. 

“next time you flirt you’ll be choking on it. while he watches.”

without answering anything, you barely felt your feet and registered your own breathing.

and that was when, dizzy and clenching around nothing, you tilted your head slightly and saw movement. a shadow just past the corner.

a pair of wide curious eyes.

you stared for a second, long enough for your brain to catch up.

anti Jax?

yeah. he hadn’t looked away once.

however, your own Jax didn’t see, still breathing heavy, face pressed into your shoulder.

and you, sweet, aching thing that you were, just smiled.

[straows]

You get cheated on, but Gojo is more than willing to help.

(I’ll make this pretty when I get home.)

You didn’t feel sad. You felt pissed off. So angry you were shaking. Steam might as well be coming out your damn ears.

Of course, when your bf— or rather, ex-boyfriend, cheated on you, you immediately went to Gojo. Why wouldn’t you? The man was your best friend. Had been since forever.

You told him everything. Told him about how your ex couldn’t cook, couldn’t clean up after himself, couldn’t fuck, sure as shit couldn’t please you.

“Well, you know what you have to do right?” Gojo tilted his head, black blindfold wrapped around his head and covering his eyes. One foot on the coffee table and the other spread a bit, hand resting in his lap.

You looked away from where you were angrily cutting up and shredding all of yours ex’s stuff, “Curb stomp him?”

“Mm, no. Good idea though, but,” Gojo leaned forward, gently taking the scissors out of your hands, a smirk on his lips as he leaned in just a bit closer, “he doesn’t know you know yet, right?”

“Right… what’re you thinking?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you let your hands rest vacantly in your lap.

“Perfect. That means, we hit him where it hurts.” Gojo reached over to the Polaroid your ex got from his sister, picked up and held it up like it told you his plan.

“A… Polaroid?”

“Mmhm.” Gojo nodded, and checked to see if there was any film left. “And I know just how to go about this. You trust me, right pretty?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded.

“Perfect. Now take your shirt off.”

“F-fuckk— I- I can’t take it! ‘s’too deep,” you were clawing at the sheets, jaw slack as your eyes rolled back. Gojo’s blindfold wrapped around your eyes, blinding you.

Gojo was behind you, one hand holding your hips up so he could bully his cock deeper and deeper into you. He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “don’t run from me, you can take it. Be good for me and push your hips back,” his own words were broken up by grunts and groans. His cock throbbing as the tip hit your cervix again.

“Just, oh god,” It felt too good, the kind of pleasure that almost had you feeling numb, the kind of pleasure that had your eyes rolling back and your moans going almost silent. “Take the fucking— picture!”

Gojo just laughed, albeit a little strangled. The way you were squeezing his cock; he knew you were close. Leaning forward, his arm wrapped around you, putting in almost an arm lock, his bicep flexing, the veins in his forearms looking downright edible.

His other hand came forward, faced the camera towards you both and—

Click!

The light was blinding and it had your face turning away and burying in his arm.

“Shit— ‘m not gonna last much longer,” his head fell between your shoulder blades and he was dropping the camera. One hand moving to grip your hip and the other moving between your thighs, his fingers making quick and tight circles around your clit.

When you came, it was like a chain reaction because he was grunting and blowing his load immediately. Your cunt fluttering around him was milking him for all he was worth.

Your body relaxed into the mattress as your orgasm washed over you. Thighs twitching and your heart hammering in your chest.

“You did so good,” Gojo whispered against your neck, kissing up your spine before pressing a kiss to your cheek and sitting up on his knees.

Pulling out, his cum slowly spilled out, dripping down past your clit and onto the bed. His thumb pressed inside, just to pull out and press against your clit again. Grinning when you gasped and your thighs squeezed shut.

Opening the door, your ex looked down at the doorstep in confusion. “A picture? What the fuck?” Whispering to himself before crouching down to pick it up.

Heart dropping at the sight—

It was you, face flushed, eyes covered by Gojo’s blindfold with Gojo’s bicep wrapped around your farce. Gojo was grinning at the camera like he’d won the fucking lottery, eyes disturbingly blue as he glared into the camera.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Do you think he liked it?” You looked over at Gojo lazily, still naked and freshly woken up as he walked back inside the bedroom.

“Probably.” Gojo shrugged before slipping off his clothes again, just to crawl right back in bed with you.

His nose brushed against your tail bone before he started kissing up your spine, leaving little bites and hickeys every few kisses.

“Mm… what are you doing?” You sighed in content as Gojo’s hands gently ran up and down your sides.

“Let’s do it again, but this time, I get to keep the pictures.” Gojo grinned against your shoulder before biting down lightly.

He’d been calling you all night. Glaring at the Polaroid picture on his desk the whole time. “How could she do this to me?” Somehow playing the victim even if he had cheated on you god knows how many times.

But then there was a thud, followed by the power going out and then—

“You really thought I’d let you keep that?” That voice, Gojo’s voice.

Reaching behind him and over your ex’s shoulder, Gojo’s face was blank. A scary look in his eyes as he grabbed the picture off his desk. “You dropped the ball, and really I have to thank you. Because you know where she ran?”

“You— you’re fucking insane!”

“She’s ran straight into my arms. So thank you, truly. But if I ever see you around her again, I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.” Gojo whispered, before backing up and roughly patting his shoulder. “Good talk, sport.”

[ruebossanova]

can you do 63 and 85 with bsf billie ?? please and thank you ☺️🫶🏽

you started it - billie eilish

bsf!billie x fem!reader

63 — “look at me while you cum” 85 — "you can take it like a good girl, right?"

prompt list

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

you’re lying on billie’s bed, sharing a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, the movie long forgotten.

her foot is nudging yours under the covers.

she keeps glancing at you.

you keep pretending not to notice.

she licks salt off her fingers, and you look away fast.

“you okay?” she asks, smiling.

“mhm.”

you are not okay.

she shifts closer.

“you’re weird tonight,” she says, voice softer now.

“no i’m not.”

she smirks. “you’re being shy.”

you roll your eyes, heart pounding.

“maybe you’re the one being weird.”

she hums, eyes dropping to your mouth. “maybe.”

a long beat.

too long.

you don’t look away.

neither does she.

“have you ever thought about it?” she asks suddenly.

your stomach flips.

“about what?”

“us.”

you blink.

“billie—”

“like. if we ever. you know.”

you try to play dumb. fail miserably.

“why are you asking me this?”

“because you’re looking at me like you’ve thought about it, too.”

you don’t respond.

she leans in slowly, fingers brushing your jaw.

“tell me to stop.”

you don’t.

so she kisses you.

and it’s soft. and slow.

but it doesn’t stay that way.

you end up straddling her lap, both of you flushed, breathless, fingers tangled in each other’s shirts.

her mouth finds your neck. her hands drag down your back, grip your ass like it’s hers.

“you sure about this?” she whispers.

you nod, grinding into her without meaning to.

she groans.

“fuck. you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

you don’t remember who pulls whose shirt off first—but it’s fast.

you’re suddenly in just your panties, straddling her lap, bare chest against her hoodie.

her hands are everywhere—palming your ass, your thighs, dragging over your ribs and up to your breasts like she’s been waiting her whole life to touch you.

“fuck,” she whispers, mouth on your collarbone. “you’re so soft.”

you whimper when she drags her thumbs over your nipples, slow.

her head tilts back.

she grins.

“you like that?”

you nod.

she grabs your hips, grinding you down against her thigh. you gasp.

“that’s it,” she murmurs. “rub on me, baby.”

you move instinctively—grinding in little circles, soaked through your panties, breath catching.

“jesus,” she breathes, watching you move. “you’re fucking soaked.”

you moan, face burning.

her voice shifts—darker now.

“take those off.”

you hesitate.

“now,” she says.

you obey.

she flips you onto your back, lips finding your chest, your stomach, kissing lower, dragging her mouth over every inch like she’s memorizing it.

“legs up,” she says. “spread.”

you do—wide.

her hand trails between your thighs, fingers stroking once, slow.

you cry out.

“oh, you’re so ready for me,” she purrs. “think you can take it like a good girl?”

“yes,” you breathe.

she kisses you.

then slides two fingers inside.

her fingers slide in smooth—hot, slow, patient.

you gasp, body already arching.

“easy, baby,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “you’re squeezing me so tight.”

she starts to move—lazy strokes, curling slightly on the pullback, just enough to make you whine.

you grab the sheets.

“you okay?” she whispers.

you nod quickly. “so good—feels so fucking good—”

she hums, clearly pleased.

her thumb brushes your clit.

your hips jerk.

“yeah,” she says. “that’s what i thought.”

she finds a rhythm—deep, perfect, steady—and it’s like your whole body forgets how to function.

your breath breaks. your legs start to tremble.

she leans over you, voice thick.

“look at me.”

you blink up at her—eyes heavy, tears pricking the corners.

“look at me while you cum.”

your stomach clenches.

“billie—”

“you’re almost there. don’t hide from me.”

her fingers move faster, thumb pressing harder now, and you break—hips jerking, moan caught in your throat, eyes locked on hers as your orgasm hits like a wave crashing down.

you cry out, voice raw, thighs squeezing around her wrist.

she doesn’t stop until you’re twitching and pulling away.

then she kisses you.

slow.

like she’s never going to stop.

you’re barely down from your high when her fingers start again—still inside, moving slower now, deeper, gentler.

but still there.

your whole body jolts.

“billie—wait—”

she kisses your jaw.

“no,” she whispers. “you can take it.”

her thumb circles your clit again—light, taunting.

you shiver.

“you can take it like a good girl, right?”

your breath catches.

“i—I’ll try—”

she smiles against your neck.

“that’s all i need.”

her fingers start working deeper, her pace steadying. it’s too much—but not in a way that makes you want it to stop. it’s more.

it’s too good.

you’re whining now—loud, squirming under her, thighs shaking again.

“that’s it,” she murmurs, licking up the side of your throat. “you’re so fucking sensitive.”

you grip her arm, fingers digging into her sleeve.

“i’m gonna—i can’t—”

“yes, you can.”

her thumb presses harder.

“come for me again. right now.”

you do.

you don’t even try to hold it back.

it rips out of you—wet, breathless, sharp.

you cry out her name, over and over, body twitching under her hand.

she slows only when you’re sobbing into her neck, too wrecked to speak.

“shhh,” she whispers, kissing your cheek. “i got you. you’re okay.”

you nod weakly, still shaking.

she holds you.

longer than she needs to.

and when you look up at her again, you see it.

it’s not just sex.

not anymore.

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

tags; @bxllxebxtch @st0nerlesb0 @dousleepanymore @mxmsuki @billiescation @angellvk @bilswifee @ilomilobabyy

[puck-luck]

i don’t think i missed the deadline but if i did just ignore this lol. can i get a chai latte with vanilla syrup (reverse cowgirl) and caramel syrup (on the boat) with quinn while he’s driving? thank you so so much🩷🩷

i loved this idea! it's a classic!! thank you for sending it in <3

There’s something special about being on the waves with Quinn alone. He always makes time to go out on the boat with you, whether it’s a trip where you tan or fish or just ride. Today has been busy with the holiday weekend coming up and all of the Canucks news Quinn received over the past few days, but he still made time to take the boat out with you for a dinner date. 

He drove you out to a secluded spot, one of your favorite places to go swimming on the lake. Quinn presented a rice bowl with all of your favorite proteins and toppings. You don’t know when he had the time to make dinner, but it’s as good as the dinners he makes at your shared Vancouver apartment. The salt in the air adds a flavor you hadn’t anticipated, despite the fact that the water hasn’t touched your food. 

After dinner, Quinn sits behind the wheel of the boat and asks you where you want to go. You ask him how much time you have and he says “as long as you want” and you tell him, “Let’s just drive.”

That’s how you find yourselves driving up and down each of the creeks that stem from the lake. Quinn has one hand on the wheel and the other on your hip, his fingers dipped beneath the band of your bikini because he can.

You sat on his thigh at first, your normal perch when you’re sitting with Quinn. It was him who moved you to his lap, grinding his growing bulge against your cunt.

You can only handle so much teasing. His thumb grazes the freckle on your waist, the careful and poised touch shooting sparks through your being. His touch is soft, safe, and secure, comforting you the way only Quinn can. He grounds you and takes care of you and is simultaneously the most attractive man you’ve ever met, and his subtle display of love for you is overwhelming. You’re driven towards intense need, demonstrating your desire for Q by wiggling your ass over his cock.

A breathless chuckle drops from Quinn’s lips and washes over the back of your neck. You exchange two words, and then he’s inside you: “More?” “Yes.”

You’re in the middle of the lake with the sun going down, fully visible to any passing boat. You don’t care– you don’t care because all you want is to be close with Quinn. You want him inside of you, sheathed inside with precum bubbling from his slit and seeping into your gummy walls, tied together at your most intimate parts.

He continues driving as you ride him, bikini pulled to the side and his shorts lowered enough to reveal his cock. The waves aid your bounces, eyes rolling into the back of your head when his cockhead pokes your g-spot. Quinn’s voice is muffled by the position, the waves, and the boat’s motor, but he whispers praises in that deep tone of his and talks you through the orgasm. He doesn’t lift a finger to help you move, instead focuses on driving the boat, but it’s his praise that brings you over the edge. He has the unique ability to do that, to call you a ‘good girl’ one time and consequently send you into an ocean of bliss. 

He comes inside you too, well after your aftershocks have faded. You continued riding him after, despite your sensitivity, hoping to get to a point where you could go again. As he gets close, Quinn drives the boat back home and hides you both under the cover. It’s then that he grabs your hips and pounds into you, your body draped over the steering wheel, until he floods your cunt with the fluid you’d been craving.

He moves the crotch of your bikini back into place and kisses the back of your shoulder, ending the night with a whispered “Love you.”

[goldenmythosworld]

Synopsis: after you tell Sylus you remember your shared past. Part 2 to this post 😛

CW: MDNI, NSFW, smut, fem! Reader, slow & passionate sex, down BAD Sylus (what’s new yall), oral (f! receiving), creampie, barely proofread

—————————————————————————————

It is a few hours after you had arrived at Sylus’ compound.

Sylus had abandoned his work, refusing to leave your side. Not again. Not so soon. After he had made sure you ate, he took you back to his room. Which is how you found yourself lying with your head on his bare chest, hands tracing invisible patterns in his skin.

It had been quiet. Neither of you truly felt like you needed to speak. It was peace. A comfort you have not felt in what seems like forever.

It is you who breaks the silence a few moments later, saying, “I miss your horns and wings.”

You feel the vibrations from his chuckle against your cheek. “Yeah?” Comes his reply. “Why?”

“I always thought them to be beautiful. A physical representation of your strength.” You had other reasons, but you were not going to tell him that. But Sylus knows you. He always has.

“Oh? There isn’t another reason?” His hand slips under your chin, gently urging you to look at him. “You sure it has nothing to do with how you loved to hold onto my horns when I would feast on that pretty—”

“Sy!” You cut him off, cheeks flushing. He laughs again. It is deep and so beautifully him. You look back at him, and his eyes are filled with devotion and desire.

He moves, and you are on your back. Sylus cages you in. He bends down and starts pressing kisses on your neck and jaw, before moving up to your face. He kisses everywhere — your cheeks, nose, forehead — but not your lips.

“Sylus,” you whine.

“Patience,” is all he murmurs in reply. He takes his time before moving over to your lips. His kiss is soft, but you feel all of his love in it. All of his desire. All of the longing. He tilts your head, deepening the kiss. You open your lips, allowing him permission to slip his tongue inside.

You break the kiss a moment later, needing to catch your breath. Sylus rests his forehead on yours.

His voice, hoarse and thick with desire, is like an aphrodisiac. “I need you. Please.”

You smile up at him. “Then have me,” you reply. He sits up then. First, he slips your t shirt off. You are not wearing a bra — you had been in too much of a hurry to get to him earlier to bother with one. He admires your breasts before bending down and places kisses on them. His tongue darts out and licks your right nipple, before enclosing his mouth on it, sucking. He switches to your left breast, as he tugs down your sweatpants and panties in one go. He tosses your clothes mindlessly on the floor, before spreading your legs for him. He moves down your body, and he groans at the sight of your soaked cunt.

He bends down, kissing your thighs. Once he reaches your cunt, he sucks and nibbles — everywhere besides your clit. You whine, bucking your hips in an attempt to pay attention to your needy clit. He chuckles against your skin. “Always so impatient, Kitten. Let me take my time okay? I need to savour this… but, fuck, look at you. Soaking. So needy.”

“Sy, please,” you beg. Needing him. You think you will lose your mind if he teases you any more.

“Hmm, who am I to deny you?” He moves his mouth over your dripping cunt and he feasts. He has had you before — more times than you can count — but he eats your cunt like it is the first time again. And you suppose it is: it is the first time you two are together while knowing everything. This is new to you both.

He is downright nasty in the way he eats you out. Hands gripping your hips, holding you down, preventing you from moving. He flicks his tongue on your clit, before dipping down and shoving his tongue into your tight cunt. Then his sucking everywhere else. Like he does not know where he wants to be.

Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer. The sounds coming from both your cunt and mouth are loud. Sylus groans every time you make your pretty little noises.

“Please, please! Sy, I’m so close,” your desperate pleas has Sylus moving his hand from your hip, to your leaking hole. He slips two fingers inside and whines — yes, whines — at how tight and warm you are. He is finger fucking you, curling his fingers to hit your g-spot every single time. He has memorised where it is. All while his mouth is hot on your clit. His hips are grinding into the mattress as he feasts.

And then you are cumming. Your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you. Your voice is hoarse as you scream, hips bucking. Sylus continues eating, slurping up your juices. He only stops once you are over sensitive and pushing his head away.

Sylus sits up onto his knees. His face is covered in you. He stares into your eyes as he licks his lips and sucks on his fingers. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever had,” he murmurs.

“Wanna taste you, Sy,” you say, moving to sit up. Sylus shakes his head, pushing you back down, gently.

“No. Next time. I need to be inside you, yeah?” He strips from his boxers, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach. Pre-cum dripping from his leaky head. He grabs his cock, and strokes it slowly. “See what you do to me, Kitten? This is all for you. No one else. Ever.”

He rubs his cock over you pussy, before he aligns himself. He looks up at you. Knowing what he is asking, you nod your head. He pushes in, and you both moan at the feeling. He takes his time easing into you, allowing you to adjust to his size. You pull him into you for a kiss, when he bottoms out. You both groan into the kiss. He stays there for a while, before he begins to move.

His strokes are deep and slow. He presses kisses on your skin. All you can think of is how full you feel. How big he is. “You feel so good, Sy,” you whisper into his neck. Your hands are on his back, and you can feel the muscle there. The power and strength.

His pace never changes. It stays steady. So different to how he had eaten you out. You realise that this is not just sex. He is making love to you. Worshiping your body with his own. And you feel it. It pours off of him like waves. With the overwhelming pleasure you feel, you are flooded with emotions. He fucks you like he is making a promise to never let you go, because he loves you too much to ever try and exist in a world without you by his side.

All of it is too much. And the next thing you know, you are cumming. Squeezing down on his thick cock, like you are trying to milk him. This orgasm is not like any other one you have had before. It sneaks up on you, and it is white-hot, all consuming. You cry out, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Yes,” he groans. Spurred on by your orgasm, Sylus cums. His hips jerking, as he releases his thick cum into you. He is panting in your neck, as he wraps his arms around you, just holding you there. Needing you close.

After a moment, he pulls back. After placing a kiss on your forehead, he slowly pulls out. You whine at the feeling of being empty. He watches as your combined release drips out of your cunt. Snapping out of his daze, he looks up at you and smiles.

He scoops you up gently, carrying you to the bathroom. He cleans you up, glaring at you whenever you try to help. Once he is done, he scoops you up again, despite your protests, and carries you back to bed. Lying down, he holds you to his chest. Arms wrapped around you tight, like he is afraid you will vanish.

“I don’t want to sleep,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m afraid when I wake up, this will all have been some cruel nightmare.”

“This is real, I promise,” you say, moving to place a kiss on his lips. “Rest. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

He takes a moment, just looking into your eyes. “I love you.”

“And I you,” you say, smiling. “More than you know.”

You rest your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat, as you close your eyes.

Neither of you have ever slept this well before. But you know, with all the certainty in your heart, that every night will feel like this one. Like peace. Like home.

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A/N: me & writing inspiration hitting at 12:00 am are like this 🤞 anyhow! Hope you enjoyed this pookies. Lemme know your thoughts🙂‍↕️ & im looking for moots!!

[ilovemarvel97]

In Every Note, I Choose You

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Reader

Summary: After almost two years being together, Y/N is ready to propose. 

Word Count: 6,739

Warnings: fluff

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

Y/N hadn’t planned on staying long.

Lizzie was booked the entire day—photoshoot in the morning, press interviews until evening—so Y/N had the rare freedom of a quiet afternoon to herself. No schedule. No studio session. Just a sense of nervous excitement she couldn’t shake.

There was only one place she wanted to go.

The drive to her mom’s house always calmed her. It was a small, cozy home tucked into a quiet neighborhood just outside the city. No paparazzi. No pressure. Just peace—and the warm scent of whatever her mom happened to be baking that day.

She didn’t bother knocking. “Mom?” she called, stepping inside and hanging her coat by the door.

From the kitchen, she heard the familiar clink of dishes and her mother’s voice: “In here, sweetheart! You two are really twins. Your brother just arrived too.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Jay’s here?”

Before she could take another step, Jay’s voice called out, “Well, well. If it isn’t the famous one.”

Y/N rounded the corner to find her twin brother sitting at the kitchen island with a half-finished sandwich and a smug grin.

She smirked. “Don’t get jealous just because I have better hair.”

Jay stood up and pulled her into a hug, clapping her back. “Good to see you, troublemaker.”

“I was literally the good twin,” Y/N said with mock offense.

“Were. I’ve seen your stage outfits lately.”

Melissa turned from the stove, beaming at the sight of her kids together. “I’ll leave you two to your nonsense. There’s tea and some of that lemon cake you both like.”

Y/N dropped into the chair next to Jay, her fingers still slightly fidgety. She didn’t even want cake—and she always wanted cake. She was too wired, too full of something unspoken.

“So,” Jay started, eyeing her. “Lizzie doing another shoot today?”

“Yeah. Full day. She won’t be home until late.”

Jay gave her a knowing look. “And you came here for emotional backup or cake?”

“…Both?”

He laughed. “Figured. So what’s up?”

Y/N leaned her elbows on the counter, fingers twisting her rings. “You remember when we were kids, and we used to switch places in school to mess with teachers?”

Jay grinned immediately. “How could I forget? I aced your English quiz, and you tanked my math one.”

“Okay, rude. I got a C-plus. That’s not a tank.”

They both laughed, the kind of laugh that only came from decades of shared stories and childhood scars. Their mom hummed quietly in the background, giving them space, but always listening.

Y/N grew quiet after the laughter faded. She reached into her coat pocket and fingered the box there—small, velvet, impossibly important.

Then she looked at Jay. “Can I ask you something serious?”

He sobered instantly. “Of course.”

“How did you know you wanted to marry Natalie?”

Jay leaned back, brows raising. “That’s out of nowhere.”

Y/N shrugged. “Just… curious.”

He didn’t rush his answer. “I think I always knew she was special. But it was when I realized that being around her made everything else feel quieter. I could just be. You know? And I never felt like I had to earn her love—she just gave it, without conditions. That kind of thing doesn’t come around twice.”

Y/N swallowed, eyes suddenly misty.

“Why?” he asked more softly now. “You thinking about it?”

Without saying anything, she slowly reached into her pocket and set a small velvet box on the counter between them.

Jay’s eyes widened.

Y/N opened it.

The emerald glinted in the kitchen light, deep and brilliant—just like *her* eyes.

Melissa gasped gently from the stove. “Oh, honey…”

“I wasn’t even looking,” Y/N said, voice soft, eyes locked on the ring. “I saw it in this tiny boutique in Paris months ago, and I just knew. I couldn’t stop staring at it. It reminded me of Lizzie’s eyes—the way they look first thing in the morning, when she hasn’t said anything yet, just looking at me like I’m her whole world.”

Jay whistled low. “Damn. That’s beautiful.”

“I’m not nervous,” Y/N continued, still staring at the ring. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I knew she was the one the second I met her. I just… wanted to tell you both. Wanted to say it out loud to the people who’ve known me the longest.”

Melissa came over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her cheek on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You’ve always had a heart that knew exactly where to go.”

Jay reached over and flicked a tear off her cheek with a grin. “So? What’s the plan? Gonna get a skywriter? Hire a flash mob?”

Y/N chuckled. “Not quite. But it will involve candles. And a new song.”

Jay groaned. “God, you’re such a romantic. Natalie’s gonna cry when she hears about this.”

“I hope Lizzie does,” Y/N said quietly, closing the ring box. “Because I mean every word.”

She left the house that afternoon with hugs, love, and her family’s blessing tucked around her like armor.

The ring was still in her coat pocket.

But her heart? That was already with Lizzie.

---

The sun was setting by the time Y/N pulled into the driveway.

She had taken the long way home, music low in the car, fingers grazing the velvet box in her coat pocket over and over. The conversation with her mom and Jay replayed in her head like a chorus. She felt full—of peace, of certainty, of love.

As she unlocked the front door to the home she shared with Lizzie, the scent of something floral and soft hit her first. Peonies? No—whatever it was, it was warm and familiar, like Lizzie’s perfume lingering in the air.

“Hey,” a gentle voice called from the living room. “You’re late.”

Y/N stepped inside, smiling instantly.

Lizzie was curled up on the couch in one of Y/N’s oversized hoodies, makeup washed off, hair up in a lazy bun. She looked relaxed, legs tucked under her, a glass of wine in one hand and the remote in the other.

“You’re home early,” Y/N said as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “You think six p.m. is early after a twelve-hour day?”

Y/N chuckled, walking over to lean down and kiss her on the head. “Touché.”

Lizzie grabbed her wrist gently before she could pull away. “Where were you?”

Y/N hesitated just a second too long.

Lizzie tilted her head. “Hmm?”

“I went to see my mom.”

Lizzie softened. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just… wanted to talk. Jay was there too.”

“Ooh,” Lizzie said playfully. “That must’ve been a chaotic trio. Did your mom survive?”

“Barely,” Y/N grinned.

Lizzie reached out and gently tugged her down onto the couch. “Come here. I missed you today.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate this time. She slid onto the couch, her body fitting naturally against Lizzie’s as Lizzie laid her head on her shoulder.

For a while, they just sat there—cuddled in the dim light of the living room, the sound of some half-watched documentary playing in the background. Lizzie’s hand rested lightly on Y/N’s thigh, tracing soft, lazy circles.

“Did you eat?” Y/N murmured.

“Mmm. Craft services was decent. You?”

“Mom sent me home with lemon cake.”

Lizzie perked up. “You brought me some?”

Y/N grinned. “Some? You weren’t even there!”

“I’m your girlfriend. That means I get half by default.”

“Wow. That’s a bold claim.”

Lizzie looked up at her then—bare-faced, eyes tired but warm, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I love you, you know.”

Y/N’s heart swelled.

“I know,” she whispered, brushing a thumb across Lizzie’s cheek. “I love you too.”

So much, it scared her sometimes.

But not tonight.

Tonight, it only filled her to the brim.

She looked down at the woman nestled against her chest and thought, You have no idea what’s coming.

The ring was still in her coat pocket, just a few feet away.

And in just a few days, she'd ask the most important question of her life.

---

A Few Days Later – Dinner at the Olsen House

Dinner at Lizzie’s mom’s place was always a bit of organized chaos—and tonight was no exception.

With Ashley and Mary-Kate both in town, the Olsen household was full of overlapping conversations, glasses clinking, and the kind of laughter that could only come from siblings who knew each other inside out. The food was rich and homey—stuffed pasta shells, roasted vegetables, and a pear and goat cheese salad that Y/N couldn’t stop raving about.

“Seriously,” she said between bites, leaning toward Jarnette at the head of the table, “if you ever release a cookbook, I’ll be your first customer.”

Jarnette smiled, brushing off the compliment but clearly pleased. “Well, if I ever slow down long enough to write one, you’ll get the first copy—signed.”

Lizzie nudged Y/N from beside her with a smirk. “You’re just saying that because she did the dishes last time.”

“I’m trying to earn points,” Y/N murmured into her wine glass.

After dinner, Ashley and Mary-Kate pulled Lizzie away into the living room, all of them talking over each other as they settled into the couch with tea and a tray of cookies.

Y/N rose from her seat, collecting a few empty plates. “I’ll help clean up.”

Jarnette was already stacking dishes. “You don’t have to, sweetheart.”

“I want to.”

Y/N followed her into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves. The clink of plates and the rush of warm water filled the silence as they settled into the easy rhythm of rinsing and drying. Y/N glanced once toward the living room where Lizzie was laughing at something Ashley had said—her smile relaxed, her head thrown back.

Her heart ached in the best way.

“Mama J?” Y/N said softly, setting down a plate and wiping her hands.

Jarnette turned slightly, brow lifted, sensing a shift in the air.

Y/N reached into the pocket of her jacket draped over a nearby chair and pulled out the ring box.

She opened it slowly, revealing the emerald nestled inside—rich, deep green with a subtle sparkle under the kitchen light.

“What do you think?” she asked gently. “What do you think, Mama J?”

Jarnette blinked, taken by surprise—but the kind of surprise that warmed into emotion quickly. She leaned in, gaze lingering on the ring, lips parting slightly in awe.

“It’s beautiful,” she said after a beat. “It’s... her.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Y/N said, a little breathless. “I wasn’t even planning it when I found it. But I saw this and… I saw her eyes. The way they look when she wakes up beside me. The way they sparkle when she’s excited, or when she’s about to cry at a movie.”

Jarnette smiled, eyes now shining just a little. “You love her so much.”

Y/N nodded. “With everything I’ve got.”

“She’s never looked as happy as she has since you came into her life,” Jarnette said quietly. “I mean that. You’ve given her something steady. Something soft.”

Y/N’s throat tightened.

“I’m not doing it tonight,” she clarified, closing the box gently. “But soon. Everything’s already planned. I just—wanted to tell you first. Because I know how much she looks up to you. And I… I wanted your blessing.”

Jarnette placed her hand over Y/N’s without hesitation. “You have it. Fully. I’d be honored to call you family.”

Y/N smiled, a little overwhelmed. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”

They stood there in the kitchen, the hum of the dishwasher behind them, the faint sound of Lizzie laughing from the next room. It was a quiet moment—but Y/N knew she’d remember it forever.

She slipped the ring back into her coat pocket just as Lizzie peeked her head around the corner.

“Hey,” Lizzie said. “Are you hiding from me?”

“Never,” Y/N grinned, grabbing a towel. “Just charming your mom.”

“Well, stop charming her and come eat cookies.”

Y/N winked at Jarnette before following Lizzie out of the kitchen, heart a little lighter, one step closer.

---

Lizzie’s POV – That Same Evening

Lizzie loved having her sisters in town.

It didn’t happen often—Ashley was always somewhere coastal, and Mary-Kate had made Europe her second home—but when they did get together, it was like flipping a switch. No matter how long it had been, the rhythm returned instantly: teasing, finishing each other’s sentences, poking old wounds just enough to laugh at them.

She was curled up between them now on the couch, a blanket across her knees, a warm mug in her hand, and laughter buzzing in her chest.

“You’re glowing,” Ashley teased, nudging her with her elbow.

“I am not.”

“You are,” Mary-Kate said, narrowing her eyes. “It’s the ‘I’m in love and life is good’ glow.”

Lizzie smirked, sipping her tea to hide the blush rising in her cheeks. “I can’t help it if I’m happy.”

“You’re more than happy,” Ashley added, wiggling her brows. “You’re in it.”

“I’ve been in it,” Lizzie said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Since the first week.”

Both her sisters looked at her knowingly, and Lizzie let her head fall back against the couch cushion.

“It’s just…” she sighed, softer now. “I feel safe with her. Like I can actually breathe. Like I don’t have to perform, even when everything else is noise.”

Mary-Kate touched her knee. “That’s how you know.”

Lizzie stared into the steam rising from her mug. She didn’t want to jinx it, but the truth was—she’d been feeling something shifting between them lately. Not distance. Just… a stillness. Like the sky before a first snowfall.

Y/N had been thoughtful lately. More quiet. She’d vanish for an afternoon, come back with stars in her eyes. She’d look at Lizzie a little too long when she thought she wasn’t watching. And when they were in bed, she held her just a little tighter.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t doubt.

It was love, thick and full and right on the edge of something more.

Lizzie looked toward the kitchen. She could hear faint water running, a cabinet closing, and her mom’s voice—soft, low, impossible to make out.

Y/N had offered to help clean up, and Lizzie didn’t miss how quick she’d volunteered. Her Y/N, always charming, always eager to pitch in. But also… kind of suspicious.

“You think she’s in there sweet-talking Mom for intel on my childhood?” Lizzie asked.

Ashley grinned. “Or maybe asking for embarrassing stories.”

Mary-Kate leaned her head back. “Or maybe she’s just being sweet.”

Lizzie bit her lip.

Maybe.

Still…

She turned her head and peeked toward the kitchen doorway—just as Y/N emerged, drying her hands with a towel, cheeks a little flushed, eyes flicking briefly to Jarnette, who smiled quietly behind her.

Something in Lizzie’s stomach fluttered.

She sat up straighter. “Hey,” she called. “Are you hiding from me?”

Y/N’s grin was instant. “Never. Just charming your mom.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes playfully. “Again?”

“Can you blame me?” Y/N winked.

Her sisters giggled beside her, but Lizzie couldn’t stop staring. She didn’t know what Y/N had said in that kitchen. But she knew this—something was coming.

And whatever it was, it felt like love.

It felt like forever.

---

A Week Before ‘The Day’

Y/N was late again.

It was nearly 11:30 when the front door clicked shut. Lizzie didn’t move from where she sat curled up on the couch, her laptop glowing in her lap, but she heard the familiar sound of boots being slipped off and a bag being set down gently by the door. Like always, Y/N was trying not to wake her.

“I’m up,” Lizzie called quietly.

She didn’t mean for it to sound cold. But it came out distant. Hollow.

Y/N poked her head around the corner, sheepish. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Studio ran over.”

“Again,” Lizzie said, not looking away from her screen.

Y/N’s smile faltered. “Yeah. It’s almost done though.”

“That’s good,” Lizzie replied, typing something just to have her hands moving. “You’ve been spending a lot of time on it.”

There was a pause before Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I want it to be… right.”

Lizzie forced a tight smile. “Of course.”

Y/N didn’t say more. She just crossed the room and leaned down to kiss the top of Lizzie’s head, her lips soft and warm against her hair. Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

Lizzie didn’t follow right away.

---

Over the next few days, the pattern continued.

Late nights. Soft apologies. Quick pecks. And always the same explanation—“studio.”

Y/N wasn’t cold. If anything, she was still sweet—maybe even sweeter. But something was… off. Like she was holding her breath around Lizzie, like her mind was always somewhere else. And Lizzie didn’t know what to do with that.

She tried not to overthink it. She tried to trust. But late at night, when she rolled over and found only the empty side of the bed, her mind filled in the gaps with fear.

What if Y/N wasn’t happy anymore?

What if something had changed?

---

She brought it up to Mary-Kate on the phone a few nights later.

“She’s distracted,” Lizzie said, sitting on the floor by the bedroom window, hugging her knees to her chest. “And I don’t know what she’s working on. She won’t tell me anything. Not even a hint.”

“She’s an artist,” Mary-Kate said gently. “You know how it is. Sometimes we disappear into things. Maybe she just wants to surprise you.”

“But that’s the thing—she doesn’t hide anything from me,” Lizzie said. “We’ve always been open. And now she’s just… closed off. She disappears into the studio and comes home exhausted. I don’t even know what she’s writing anymore. What if it’s not about me?”

Mary-Kate hesitated, then said softly, “Do you think there’s someone else?”

The question made Lizzie flinch. “No. God, no. I don’t think she’d ever—”

“But you’re scared,” Mary-Kate finished for her.

Lizzie swallowed hard, eyes burning.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I am.”

---

That night, Y/N came home past midnight.

Lizzie was pretending to sleep, but her heart was thudding hard in her chest as Y/N tiptoed into the bedroom. The scent of her—faint cologne, warm vinyl, a little sweat from long hours—wrapped around Lizzie like a blanket she couldn’t pull close enough.

Y/N undressed in the dark and climbed into bed behind her, spooning her gently, arms slipping around her waist.

Lizzie’s eyes stayed open.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered against her neck.

Lizzie didn’t respond.

Not because she didn’t believe it.

But because some small, cruel part of her was starting to wonder if maybe the person she loved most was slipping away—and she wouldn’t even know why.

---

Y/N’s POV – Three Days Before

The studio was dark, quiet—only the low hum of the speakers still buzzing as the final note of the track faded.

Y/N sat there in the sound booth, still, breath caught in her chest. Headphones slid off her ears, but she didn’t move. The silence after music always hit differently—especially when it meant something was done.

Really done.

The song was finished.

It had taken weeks. Every lyric carved out of her chest, every harmony layered with care. She’d rewritten the second verse three times before finally deciding to keep the original because—it was her. It was them.

The melody swelled around the moment they met. The bridge cracked with vulnerability. The final chorus? It was a promise.

Y/N had never written anything like it.

And Lizzie hadn’t heard a single note.

She closed her laptop and stood, heart pounding harder now than when she’d recorded the vocals. Everything else was already ready—the vineyard reservation, the lighting, the table under the olive trees, the string quartet waiting for their cue. Even the dress code had been quietly arranged with the help of Ashley, who swore she’d get Lizzie in the perfect outfit without tipping her off.

Now all Y/N needed… was time.

---

Two Days Before

She got home around 10:45 that night, humming the chorus under her breath as she stepped through the front door. She didn’t expect fanfare—but she didn’t expect cold silence either.

The lights were still on in the living room. Lizzie sat on the couch, arms crossed, face unreadable. She didn’t turn her head when Y/N walked in.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N said softly, dropping her bag by the door. “Sorry I’m late again. I just finished the—”

Lizzie stood up.

“You said that last time,” she said flatly.

Y/N blinked, pausing mid-step. “What?”

“You said it was almost done. Days ago.”

“I know. It just—tonight was the last touch. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“For what?” Lizzie asked, voice rising just slightly. “What are you even working on that you can’t tell me about? You come home past ten almost every night this week, barely look at me, and now I’m just supposed to pretend everything’s fine?”

Y/N’s heart dropped. “Liz—”

“Don’t Liz me,” she cut in, voice trembling now. “I know you say you love me, but lately it feels like I’m not even part of your life. It feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like you’re preparing to leave me.”

Y/N stepped forward quickly. “No—no, God, Lizzie, never. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

There it was. Her voice cracked at the end of it, all the softness behind the anger finally spilling through.

Y/N crossed the distance between them and gently took her hands, her voice trembling now too.

“I’m not shutting you out. I promise. I’ve just… been working on something important. Something for you. And I couldn’t show you yet because it’s a surprise. But it’s not bad. It’s the opposite of bad.”

Lizzie stared at her, eyes rimmed with hurt. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?”

Y/N cupped her face, gently tilting her chin. “You’re not. You couldn’t. I’ve been pouring my heart into something for us. Every minute I was gone, I was thinking about you. I swear.”

Lizzie searched her eyes for a long moment. Then, quieter, more guarded, “Is it something I should be worried about?”

Y/N shook her head immediately. “No. But… I do want to ask you something.”

Lizzie’s brows furrowed.

Y/N’s lips curled softly. “Not tonight. Soon. But first… I want to take you away. Just the two of us. This weekend.”

Lizzie’s voice was wary. “A weekend?”

“A ‘mental health break,’” Y/N said gently. “We’ll leave Friday. Just trust me, okay?”

Lizzie looked at her for a long moment, and Y/N could practically see the battle behind her eyes—hurt, confusion, and that guarded tenderness she wore when she wasn’t sure what to believe.

Finally, she exhaled. “Fine. But I want to know everything eventually.”

Y/N kissed her forehead, lips lingering there.

“You will,” she whispered. “More than you know.”

---

Lizzie’s POV – Friday Morning

Lizzie woke to the sound of movement in the kitchen.

The sun had just barely started to peek through the curtains, casting soft lines of gold across the bed. Y/N wasn’t beside her. The sheets on her side were still warm, slightly rumpled, and Lizzie reached out to touch them before she even opened her eyes fully.

Part of her wanted to pull the blanket over her head and stay there—safe in the half-sleep, where things didn’t feel so tangled. But curiosity won out.

She sat up, stretching quietly, then slipped into one of Y/N’s old shirts and padded barefoot down the hall.

In the kitchen, Y/N was packing a small cooler with snacks. A thermos sat next to it. She was moving around with that particular kind of focused energy she always had when she was preparing for something that mattered—an interview, a show, a big performance.

Lizzie leaned against the doorway. “Are we going on tour or just a weekend trip?”

Y/N looked up quickly, and her face lit up the way it always did when she saw Lizzie—like nothing else in the world existed. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Barely.”

“I was gonna bring you coffee in bed.”

Lizzie arched an eyebrow. “That’s suspiciously romantic.”

Y/N walked over and kissed her lips, arms sliding loosely around her waist. “Maybe I just missed you.”

“You saw me eight hours ago.”

Y/N grinned. “Still.”

Lizzie looked up at her, eyes scanning her expression. She could tell Y/N had barely slept—there was a tiredness around her eyes, but underneath it was… excitement? Nerves?

“Where are we going again?” Lizzie asked. “You’ve been annoyingly vague.”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Y/N said with a teasing smile. “Just pack comfy clothes, and maybe one dress you like. Something flowy.”

Lizzie squinted. “Something flowy? Y/N, if you take me to a surprise wedding I swear to God—”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Relax. No secret weddings. Just... a weekend of peace. Quiet. You and me. I promise.”

Lizzie wanted to believe her. She really did. And maybe she was being too sensitive—but Y/N had been acting so strange lately. All these late nights, the constant deflections, and now this sudden romantic getaway?

Still, she couldn’t deny that when Y/N looked at her, when she held her like that, it didn’t feel like a goodbye.

It felt like something else.

Something bigger.

Something... waiting.

She pulled away gently. “Okay. I’ll go pack my ‘flowy’ dress.”

Y/N kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

“For trusting you?”

“For loving me,” Y/N murmured.

Lizzie blinked, surprised by the sudden weight in her voice. But before she could say anything, Y/N was already heading back to her bags, pretending not to notice the flicker of confusion in her eyes.

Lizzie watched her quietly.

There was definitely something in the air. She didn’t know what—but whatever it was, it was coming.

And soon.

---

Lizzie’s POV – Friday Afternoon

They’d been driving for a few hours.

The roads had grown quieter, narrower, the city fading behind them like an old memory. Now, rolling hills stretched out in every direction—soft greens and golds under a wide-open sky. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting the world in that honey-colored light Lizzie always secretly adored.

“Where are we?” she asked as she leaned forward in her seat, scanning the endless rows of grapevines beyond the windshield.

Y/N glanced over, smiling softly. “You’ll see.”

Lizzie exhaled through her nose, amused despite herself. “You and your secrets lately…”

They turned off onto a private gravel road flanked by cypress trees, winding gently uphill. Lizzie’s brows furrowed as the car rounded a final curve and a stunning old vineyard estate came into view. Stone walls. Clay-tiled roofs. Terraced gardens and rows upon rows of vines glinting in the sun.

Y/N pulled up to a small secluded guesthouse tucked behind the main villa. Everything looked impossibly picturesque—straight out of a romantic film.

“This is where we’re staying?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Y/N nodded, parking the car. “All weekend. Just us.”

Lizzie blinked, almost caught off guard. “It’s… beautiful.”

Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face her. “Good. You deserve beautiful.”

There was something about the way she said it—so sincere, so full of intent—that Lizzie had to look away for a moment.

They grabbed their bags, and as they stepped out of the car, a soft breeze lifted through the vines. The scent of lavender and ripe grapes hung in the air. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear water—maybe a fountain, maybe a stream.

Y/N opened the door to the guesthouse and stepped aside, letting Lizzie walk in first.

The interior was breathtaking—light, airy, rustic with soft linens and golden wood. Candles lined the mantle. A small handwritten note in Y/N’s scrawl was left on the bed.

Take your time. Sunset’s waiting.

Lizzie turned slowly toward her, her heart already skipping.

“Okay…” she said cautiously, eyes narrowing playfully. “This is not a mental health break. What are you doing?”

Y/N stepped forward, gently taking the bag from Lizzie’s shoulder. “Nothing crazy. I just wanted to give you something quiet. Just you and me, no cameras. No noise.”

Lizzie studied her face. Y/N looked both calm and jittery—like someone who had been carrying a secret so carefully for too long and was nearly ready to lay it down.

Still, Lizzie nodded slowly. “Okay. Then I’ll shut up and enjoy it.”

Y/N smiled, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Change into something you feel good in. I’ll meet you outside in a little bit.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Are we going somewhere?”

Y/N only smiled, then slipped back out the door, leaving Lizzie standing in the quiet room with a strange flutter in her chest.

She looked toward the window.

The sun was sinking now, low and golden. The vines were glowing.

Something was coming.

She just didn’t know what.

Not yet.

---

Lizzie’s POV – Sunset

She changed into a soft linen dress—the kind she usually saved for beach getaways or lazy Sundays with Y/N. Flowing, light, cream-colored with delicate straps and just enough fabric to dance in, if dancing were ever to happen.

She didn’t know why, but her hands shook slightly as she pulled her hair back loosely. Her chest was tight with something unspoken. Something building.

Y/N hadn’t told her anything, not really—but the way she looked at her lately, the way she moved, the softness in her voice—it all told Lizzie something was coming.

And it was coming now.

She stepped outside onto the stone path, following the small string lights that had been wound carefully around the olive trees. The path curved gently past a low vineyard wall and opened into a quiet clearing where a small table was set for two. A private dinner under the sky. Candles. Wildflowers. Two glasses of wine.

And there—standing in the middle of it all—was Y/N.

She’d changed into a simple, elegant black suit. No tie. Collar slightly open. Hair tousled just enough to be dangerous.

Lizzie’s breath caught.

“You look…” Y/N started, eyes raking over her, smile breaking. “Like every lyric I ever tried to write before you.”

Lizzie blinked rapidly. “You’re really pulling out the lines tonight, huh?”

“I’m nervous.”

Lizzie paused. “Why?”

But Y/N didn’t answer.

She just shook her head and stepped closer, reaching out, her palm up, wordless.

Lizzie hesitated only a second before placing her hand in Y/N’s.

And the moment she did, Y/N gently tugged her forward—closer, until Lizzie’s chest met hers—and kissed her.

Not softly.

Deeply.

With all the words she wasn’t saying yet.

Lizzie melted into it, her hands curling into Y/N’s jacket, her eyes fluttering shut. The world disappeared in that kiss, in that warmth, in that familiar mouth that somehow always felt like home.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Lizzie blinked up at her, dazed. “What was that for?”

Y/N smiled and whispered against her lips, “That one was for me.”

Her eyes lingered on Lizzie’s face as she added, just a touch hoarse, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Lizzie’s cheeks burned, and for the first time all day, her heart settled. Something about the way Y/N looked at her—like she was memorizing the moment—eased her nerves.

Y/N slid an arm around her waist and guided her toward the table, pulling out her chair like the perfect gentleman. Lizzie sat down, a little breathless still, smoothing her dress.

The moment her napkin was in her lap, two servers quietly emerged from behind the trees, placing the first course in front of them—heirloom tomato tartlets with whipped feta and microgreens, paired with a chilled white wine.

Lizzie glanced across the table at Y/N, who raised her glass slightly, her smile crooked and nervous.

“To you,” Y/N said softly.

Lizzie clinked her glass against hers.

“To us.”

The meal began.

But the real feast?

That was still to come.

---

It was, without a doubt, the most thoughtful dinner Lizzie had ever experienced.

Every course was tailored to her favorites—from the wild mushroom risotto with truffle shavings to the arugula and peach salad that reminded her of their first trip to Italy. Even the dessert—a warm chocolate soufflé with raspberry coulis—was the one she'd once joked about wanting as her last meal.

She had laughed through most of it, caught between teasing Y/N and trying not to cry at how *seen* she felt. Every bite tasted like a memory.

“I can’t believe you remembered that I like basil with stone fruits,” she’d said, narrowing her eyes at Y/N across the table.

Y/N only smirked. “Of course I did. You lectured the waiter for five minutes about it that night in Napa.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “That was *one time.*”

“You were very passionate,” Y/N said with a grin, sipping her wine. “It was adorable.”

By the time dessert was finished and Lizzie leaned back in her chair, full and glowing from wine, laughter, and love, she was ready to melt into the moment completely.

Then the candlelight shifted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a server approaching the table again—not with another course, but with something else in his hands.

A guitar.

He handed it gently to Y/N, who stood slowly and nodded her thanks.

Lizzie sat up straighter, heart skipping.

Y/N met her eyes with that look—that same quiet, reverent look she'd had the night they first said I love you and every morning since, when she thought Lizzie was still asleep.

“I have one more thing for you,” Y/N said, fingers wrapping around the fretboard. “Something I’ve been working on for a while.”

Lizzie’s lips parted, but she couldn’t speak.

Y/N adjusted the strap over her shoulder, walked a few feet closer, and sat down on the edge of the low stone wall across from her. The vineyard spread behind her in soft, golden twilight. The string lights swayed gently above.

And then—

She played.

Soft at first. Just a hum of strings. Then the first verse, quiet and steady, like a secret Y/N had been keeping in her chest too long. Her voice trembled slightly but never wavered.

The lyrics were undeniably personal.

The way they met.

The way Lizzie’s laugh filled a room before she even entered it.

The way her hand felt in Y/N’s for the first time.

How love crept in gently—and stayed.

The second verse cracked Lizzie open.

“I built this song from quiet things,

your sleepy sighs, your wedding dreams.

If I could write you into time,

I’d never need another rhyme.”

Tears rolled freely down Lizzie’s cheeks now.

She couldn’t even wipe them away. She just… felt them.

When the final chorus began, Y/N stood up slowly, the guitar now quiet, still hanging over her shoulder. She reached into her pocket and pulled something small and familiar—a velvet box Lizzie somehow knew before it even opened.

Her breath caught.

Y/N’s voice shook. “Elizabeth Chase Olsen…”

She stepped closer.

“I’ve loved you from the moment you sat across from me and asked if I wanted to share fries even though you already ordered your own.”

Lizzie laughed through a sob.

“I’ve loved you in every quiet moment, every loud fight, every night I came home and found you wearing my hoodie and drinking tea like you owned the whole damn world. And I want to keep loving you like that. For the rest of my life.”

She opened the box.

The emerald glinted like a secret only they shared.

“Will you marry me?”

The tears didn’t stop. Lizzie blinked through them, eyes locked on the ring, then up at Y/N’s trembling face.

She was already nodding.

“Yes,” she whispered, then louder. “Yes.”

Y/N’s whole body exhaled. She stepped forward, slipped the ring onto Lizzie’s finger with shaking hands, then kissed her—deep, smiling against her lips, and maybe crying too.

They didn’t hear the quiet clapping of the staff in the distance.

They didn’t notice the lights around them grow a little warmer.

They just held onto each other.

In the middle of a vineyard.

Under the stars.

With a song still echoing in the air.

And forever beginning right now.

---

Lizzie’s POV – The Next Morning

Sunlight poured through the curtains like honey.

Gentle. Golden. The kind of light that didn’t demand you wake up—it just invited you to exist.

Lizzie stirred slowly, the sheets warm and tangled around her legs, her bare skin pressed against softer skin beside her. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the breeze and the even sound of Y/N’s breathing.

She blinked open her eyes.

Y/N was still asleep.

On her back, hair messy across the pillow, one arm loosely draped over Lizzie’s waist like her body refused to let go even in sleep. The other was tucked beneath the sheets, rising and falling with her steady chest.

Lizzie didn’t move—didn’t want to. She just let herself exist in that moment, half-draped over the woman she loved, completely bare.

Except for one thing.

Her eyes drifted down to her hand resting gently against Y/N’s ribs.

The ring.

That delicate, deep emerald—so vivid in the morning light it almost didn’t seem real. But it was. It was there. Solid. Warm from her skin. Her heart thudded gently at the sight of it.

Fiancée.

That word hadn’t quite settled yet. It felt both enormous and completely natural.

Her lips curled into a small, private smile. She shifted slightly, just enough to lay her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her nose brushing against the curve of her neck.

She breathed her in.

God, she loved her.

Y/N murmured something in her sleep, shifting just a little, but didn’t wake. Lizzie watched her—lids fluttering, lashes brushing against her cheeks, lips slightly parted. Her face was relaxed in a way it rarely was during the day. Like every part of her had finally exhaled.

Lizzie reached up and gently brushed a piece of hair from her forehead.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” she whispered.

She didn’t need a response.

Just being there—skin to skin, heart to heart, with forever on her finger and Y/N’s arm around her—was enough.

She closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into her warmth, letting the morning hold them in its quiet promise.

No rush. No noise.

Just them.

Y/N stirred with a faint hum, her nose brushing against Lizzie’s hair as she shifted sleepily. Her arm tightened a little, pulling Lizzie closer against her chest.

“Mmm… morning,” she mumbled, voice low and raspy from sleep.

Lizzie smiled, eyes still closed. “Hi.”

There was a pause, and then a long, soft exhale. “Still real?”

Lizzie lifted her hand slightly, letting the sunlight catch the emerald again. “Still real.”

Y/N nosed at her temple, her lips brushing the side of Lizzie’s face before she dropped her head back on the pillow with a lazy, content sigh. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” Lizzie whispered, curl into her chest even more.

Y/N immediately wrapped her up tighter, one strong thigh sliding between Lizzie’s legs, her hand resting low on her back.

They stayed like that for a moment—breathing each other in, the world still a million miles away.

Then Lizzie shifted again… and frowned slightly.

She wiggled.

Frowned more.

Y/N’s eyes opened halfway. “What?”

Lizzie pressed her hand between them, suspicious. “There’s something poking my thigh.”

Y/N blinked. Then smirked. “Uh-oh.”

Lizzie tilted her head and gave her a look.

Y/N raised a hand like she was swearing an oath. “It’s not my fault. You’re naked. You’re warm. You’re wearing my ring.”

Lizzie laughed, pressing her face into Y/N’s neck to muffle the sound. “I can’t believe this is how we’re starting our first full day as fiancées.”

Y/N grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

They both burst into laughter, the kind that came from deep in their stomachs, full and real and unfiltered. Lizzie ended up half on top of Y/N, still tangled in sheets, still flushed from giggling and everything that came before.

And as she looked down at her, that ring glinting again between them, she swore—she’d never seen anything more beautiful than this moment.

Y/N reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Lizzie’s cheek. “So… breakfast in bed, or round two?”

Lizzie grinned, kissed her nose, and whispered, “Yes.”

To which part, she didn’t say.

But the answer was the same.

To all of it.

---

Leave your thoughts in the comment!

[davinawritings]

Wrong Name

Hello! I hope you like this little Drabble! I did it with an unspecified monster so you can kind of imagine him how you want (although I did mention claws).

Pairing: Non-Specified Monster X Reader

Warnings: Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Slight Size Kink

You aren’t quite sure why you thought your little prank would turn out any differently than it did. You were bored, and you just wanted to see if you could get under your boyfriend’s skin a little. Granted, calling your possessive monster boyfriend by your ex’s name… well, let’s just say it wasn’t the best idea.

The second your ex’s name left your lips, you practically felt the air shift. Your monster’s body tensed, and you heard the low growl rumbling in his chest. He stood to his full height, and your fight or flight kicked in. Obviously, a fight wouldn’t work against your beloved yet massive boyfriend, so that left the option of flight.

Could you have run to your bedroom, which has a soft bed and a feeling of comfort? Yes. 

Did you run to your bedroom? No…

Your next bad idea was taking off out the back door and heading for the woods behind your home. You aren’t really sure why your brain seemed to think that was a good idea, but honestly, you aren’t sure there was a lot of thought behind your actions anyway.

Do you have a good sense of direction? Not particularly, and it’s even worse at night, which it currently is.

Could you outrun your monster boyfriend? Absolutely not.

You only made it past a handful of trees when your feet left the ground. Large claws manhandle your body until you face your boyfriend, legs dangling several feet above the ground. 

“It was a prank!” you say quickly. His eyes turn into a glare as you try and give him your best innocent look. He walks forward until your back is pressed against a tree, your legs wrapping around him out of instinct.  

His voice is deep and rough as he says, “I don’t ever want to hear that name come out of your mouth again. You’re all mine and ONLY fucking mine!”. He uses sharp claws to tear the clothes from your lower half. “I’ll spend all night making sure you forget that name and never speak it again. The only thing that pretty little mouth will be able to do by the end of tonight is moan and scream”.

He thrust in your embarrassingly wet cunt with one hard stroke, the fat length stretching you open and leaving you breathless. He shifts so your legs hook over his arms, leaving you spread wide and at his mercy.

He bounces you up and down as he pleases, listening to you moan and whimper as he brings you to the edge over and over. His cock glistens with your juices, and he releases his own moans and growls as he feels you clench around him repeatedly. He fills you with his cum, marking you from the inside,  but he keeps going. 

Eventually, he moves you to the ground, fucking you hard and deep in the middle of nature, claiming your body like a feral animal.

You don’t know how long it’s been or how many times you have both cum. Your cunt and thighs are a sticky mess of fluids, and overstimulation has set in. The pain mixes with pleasure in a dance of overwhelming ecstasy.

You are barely aware of being carried back to your home, the sun just rising on the horizon, and your monster’s hands are gentle on your body. You are in desperate need of a bath and sleep, but more than anything, you are content to be in your monster’s arms. 

Pranking your boyfriend might not have been the most brilliant idea, but you’re pretty happy with the outcome now.

[meadowfics]

nsfw alphabet

thanos (choi su-bong) x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ smut. MDNI! top!thanos. multiple kinks mentioned. vulgar dialogue

requested by @thanosspills

aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he will reach for the closest blunt, vape, or cigarette immediately after sex.

subong will lay you down the bed, give you something to smoke on, and relax.

he will turn on the television, put on some 2000s sitcom on and chill with you.

he will put an arm around your shoulders, unless you big spoon him.

thanos loves laying on your chest too.

body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

thano's is obsessed with his body above the clavicle.

the man loves his facial features, hair, neck, tattoos.

your thighs are subong's favorite.

he loves pinning your thighs in between his face, or above to your knees right beside your face in a mating press position.

cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

breeding kink on 1000%

the rapper only wants to cum inside of you.

if you won't let him, he will cum all over your face (with your permission will)

dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

if you're someone else's girlfriend (gyeong-su's or namgyu's) he will imagine fucking you to make them upset.

the idea of getting you to cheat on your loving boyfriends with him puts his ego on maximum.

he'll constantly ask you if he fucks you better than your boyfriends.

you can't help but say yes when his tip kisses on your cervix sooo nicely.

experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

this man is 'community dick' itself.

thanos knows what he is doing.

the guy has a body count of at least 40+

thank goodness he is clean, and can get you to cum faster than any of your past partners!

favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style.

thanos will nearly suffocate your head on the pillows as he drills your pussy from behind.

another favorite is the mating press position, where he can go as deep as possible.

goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

whenever he isn't on drugs, he can be silly.

on drugs, he is super serious.

hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

contrary to popular belief, I think he is well-groomed.

thanos keeps his nails manicured, his hair is freshly dyed 24/7... I think he trims at least once a week!

the carpet doesn't match the drapes, since his pubes are not purple!

intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

if you're his girlfriend, he has romantic moments.

thanos is the man who would throw 10,000 rose petals all over a hotel room, buy the most expensive wine for you, and extends foreplay.

if you're a hookup, you might get a cuddle and at least a sleepover.

nothing more.

jack off (masturbation headcanon)

subong loves jacking off to your naked polaroid pictures.

the naked polaroid pictures were a birthday gift to him, from you.

thanos gets messyyyy

kink (one or more of their kinks)

hair pulling. thanos lovesss pulling on the ends of your hair, especially when he is hitting it from behind.

breeding kink. the idea of you getting pregnant doesn't scare him as much as you think it would, since many rappers he knows of have 'babymoms' and whatever.

overstimulation. on drugs, thanos doesn't know when to stop.

location (favorite places to do the do)

in his music studio.

especially in the sound booth where everything is sound proof.

"nobody can hear you in here, princess. moan as loud as you want to." thano's lips ghost against your ear as he has you bent over on the carpet, moaning so loudly that your throat hurts.

"maybe I can hit the red button, and record this so I can add it as my intro hmm?"

motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

drugs are a huge motivator, especially the sexual enhancers.

your nudes, your scandalous instagram pictures, and being halfway naked around him helps.

no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no age play stuff.

you're grown and of age, and that is what he prefers.

oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

80% receiving.

fucking your throat is one of his favorite things to do in bed.

however, he loves when you sit on his face.

subong makes you put your entire weight on him as he tongue fucks you.

pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough.

thanos has a thing for making you feel sore after sex.

quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickies in the music studio >>

when one of his producers leaves the booth, saying he will be back in twenty minutes, thanos is in your space right away.

that happens once a month.

risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

thanos loves risks.

he isn't scared of public places, since he never faces consequences anyways.

one time, he popped one of your titties in his mouth for a photo booth picture.

was that photo used for one of his album covers? maybeeee.

stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

thanos stamina is alright....

the rapper isn't weak, but on normal he can go three rounds.

sexual enhancer drugs can push him to seven rounds.

toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he owns a box full of toys.

handcuffs, flushlights, vibrators, nipple clips.

he uses the vibrators and nipple clips on you.

however, you've used the handcuffs and flushlight on him as punishment before ;)

unfair (how much they like to tease)

thanos does not tease every time.

due to impatience.

whenever you've been bratty, he will tease you until you get irritable.

volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

thanos GROANNNSSS

the man is super vocal.

"who's pussy does this belong to?"

"my pretty girl.."

"so so wet señorita.."

"one won't hurt, right?"

wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

thanos loves smacking his cock across your face.

seeing his length in comparison to your features makes him rock hard as he starts to push himself into your warm and velvety mouth.

x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

seven inches on hard.

what if he had a tattoo on his pubic area ?? 👀

subong is skinny, almost closer to a sleeper build.

the drugs make him skinner than he should be.

yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

thanos has control.

he can go four nights without sex at most.

the rapper has a bigger sex drive when he is on drugs.

zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it'll take him a while to go to sleep.

sometimes, the drugs need to calm down and exit his system.

if he is clean, he can go to sleep right after he cums.

you'll big spoon him as he falls asleep on your chest.

masterlist

[inotakumagf]

baby of mine

✶ nanami kento x f!reader

word count ✺ 6K

summary ✺ Yuji Itadori shouldn’t have survived eating one of Sukuna’s fingers at only four years old. But he does. And with no family left, he needs someone to take him in. Gojo wants to hide Yuji’s existence from the higher ups, and he knows he can trust you and Nanami.

warning ✺ mentions of a miscarriage. there’s also an emotionally (& insinuation of physically) abusive ex. the kids are 4/5 while you & nanami are in your early to mid twenties, the jjk timeline literally does not exist to me. aka co-parenting the vessel of sukuna. also i don’t know anything about 4 year olds so if something seems impossible pretend it works ok

──────────𝜗𝜚────────── The quiet of your apartment gets so lonely sometimes. You can’t distract yourself for long with books or television or music before you find yourself sitting on your cold wooden floor, in front of the large window in your living room. Your finger traces patterns on the glass as you stare into the apartments across from yours. It’s an addiction, watching the carefree lives of non sorcerers. All their problems are so…easy. What’s a leaky sink or a shitty roommate to the never ending sacrifice of being a Jujutsu sorcerer? Easy, and yet…

You press your palm to the cool glass and imagine being in that position—slow dancing in the living room, movie nights, and even the labor of doing dishes with a partner. All the monotonous habits of being human that are tainted by your way of life. It’s usually easy for you to push that yawning need aside, but it doesn’t help the craving for it that’s burrowed deep beneath your ribs. You thought you’d had that love, once. You were stupid to think that life was an option for a sorcerer like yourself.

A soft knock at the door pulls you out of your head. You dump your cold coffee into the sink and move to answer it. Your brows rise in surprise when you pull it open to find none other than Nanami Kento. You’d gone to high school with him, but he’d avoided Jujutsu life after graduation. Not that you can blame him, after everything you all endured. You’ve tried to keep in touch with him, but it’s hard when you exist on two different planes of life. Still, he’d been one of your closest friends at school and you’re happy to see him again. The last time had been a few months ago at some shitty bar.

“Nanami,” you greet, a little confusion slipping into your voice, “this is a surprise visit.”

“Apologies for dropping by at such an odd hour. Gojo called me. He said he had something to speak to us about, and that we’d meet here. I usually ignore him, but it seemed quite serious.”

You hum. “That’s weird, I haven’t heard anything from him.”

You move to the side to let him inside your messy apartment. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You open it to find a text from Gojo that reads, heyyyyy!! i need to talk to you and Nanami about something super serious :P!! meet at yours in a few????!!! thaaaanks :))))!

You roll your eyes, and you have to question your friend’s sanity sometimes. You invite Nanami to sit at your plush couch. “Do you want anything to drink or eat while we wait? I can brew some tea.”

“Thank you, tea would be nice.”

You pull out the kettle and pour some water in it to boil. You take time looking through your tea flavors while you consider the situation. If Gojo was able to convince Nanami to come out for something, then it must be serious. You ask Nanami about his day while you wait for the water to boil. It’s all boring, non sorcerer stuff, but you drink up every word of it. 

You bring out the kettle and three delicate teacups, along with a pot of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes for Gojo’s sweet tooth. Nanami thanks you softly, pouring tea for the two of you carefully. You sip your tea and exchange small talk while waiting for Gojo to show up. For a man that can teleport wherever he wants, he does love to be late. 

Finally, you hear a sharp knock at your front door. As soon as you open the door, you can tell that something isn’t right. The cheerfulness in Gojo’s text, the silliness that you’re used to is wiped from his face now. You can see the tension in his shoulders as he waves a quick greeting. You let him in, ushering him to the couch. 

“I hope there’s a good reason for disturbing my quiet evening,” you threaten half-heartedly. 

He takes his tea cup, pouring sugar with a side of brewed tea into the porcelain. He waits to speak until you settle onto the couch. 

“I found a boy today,” he says simply. You see him pinch his mouth as he thinks of how to continue. “His name is Yuji Itadori. His family should be as normal as they come, but the squirt found one of Sukuna’s fingers. He ate it. But I can’t be too surprised, he’s only four. Even Megumi’s prone to eating things he shouldn’t.”

Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you see Nanami’s back straighten out. “Oh my god. I can’t imagine what his family is going through.”

Gojo shakes his head. “That’s the thing—he’s safe, healthy even. I could feel the cursed energy rolling off of him halfway across Tokyo. Don’t know how the little guy did it, but he ate Sukuna’s finger and he’s still alive.”

You furrow your brows. You must have misheard him. “What? He has full control over himself? Is that possible?”

Nanami hums in thought. “A vessel for Sukuna, especially from a non sorcerer family, is likely a once in a century chance. Highly unlikely, but not impossible.”

Gojo sighs. “When I found him, it was just him and his grandfather inside the house. His grandfather…it seems that Sukuna had control for a moment, no more than a couple seconds. But it was one of the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever seen.”

You exchange glances with Nanami, who looks just as sick as you feel. You shudder. “The higher ups can’t be pleased. After all this time, a vessel for Sukuna has appeared in the form of a toddler that won't be able to fight the curse’s presence in his body.”

Gojo scratches the back of his head. “Weeell,” he stretches out, and you can see him cringe in anticipation.

Nanami speaks up. “Idiot. Please don’t tell me you did what I think you did.”

Gojo raises his hands in defense. “I haven't told the higher ups. Other than you two and Shoko, no one else knows. Oh, and Ijichi.”

“Satoru,” you never usually use his first name, but your voice is stern with warning, “this is irresponsible, even for you.”

Gojo looks frustrated with the way that you two are ganging up on him. “I'm telling you not so you can judge me, but so you can help. What do you think is going to happen if we tell the higher ups? They won’t hesitate to kill him. He's four, and he just lost the only family he had. I won’t let those old geezers kill him because they don’t give a shit that he's a baby.”

You frown. “I do want to help, but if Sukuna has taken over him, what can we do?”

“That’s the thing—after the initial moment when Yuji ate the cursed object and Sukuna took over, the curse hasn’t been able to control him. Shoko and I have been monitoring him for a few days now and Yuji is still…Yuji. Even at four, he’s so strong. If he can remain in control of himself, how could we ever let the higher ups have their way?” You notice how hard Gojo clenches his fists, so much so that his knuckles turn white. You can’t read his mind, but you can guess what he’s thinking about. 

Nanami sets his tea down on the coffee table. “So, what then? You will have to keep him with you to ensure his safety, and the safety of everyone around him.”

Gojo’s shoulders tense noticeably, and the air crackles with his anger. “No. Under any other circumstance I would, of course I would. but I have Megumi and Tsumiki to think of. I will not put them in harm's way, I can't.”

You pull at your bottom lip. “So, this meeting…”

“You want one of us to take him in.” Nanami finishes your sentence. It makes sense, in hindsight. You and Nanami would never betray this secret to the higher ups and, as first grade sorcerers, both of your curse techniques are strong enough to handle Sukuna in his weakened state if it came down to it.

“I wouldn't ask if I thought I had any other choice. I know you barely tolerate me,” he glances at Nanami pointedly, “but I need your help.”

Nanami opens his mouth to respond. You know what his decision will be before he does.

“I can take him,” you say before Nanami can say anything. You know Nanami, and you know his selflessness. You also know that he left a life of sorcery for a reason, and you don’t want to make him come back if he doesn’t have to.

You can see the argument brewing in Nanami. “Your fiancé isn’t a sorcerer, so you shouldn’t feel forced to put him in harm's way. I can take Yuji in. It’s just me at home, anyways.”

You grimace at the mention of your fiancé—ex-fiancé. You hesitate to tell the two men about it. After all, it's been over a year since you broke off your relationship and you’d never said a word of it to anyone. “We’re not together anymore. Yuji can stay with me.”

Nanami looks surprised, and you try to avoid meeting his gaze. He must get the message, because he doesn't ask about it. “I trust you will be able to contain Sukuna if it becomes necessary, but I can help with the boy if you need me to. Toddlers are already a handful, let alone one that’s a vessel for Sukuna.”

You smile at him. “Hm, I might take you up on that, Kento. But don’t complain if I call you in the middle of your work day to change a diaper.”

Gojo tilts his head. “Pretty sure he’s potty trained by now.”

The three of you pause, realizing just how little you know about caring for a young child. “I guess I have some research ahead of me. Maybe you can give me tips, Mama Gojo.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny the nickname.

With everything settled, Gojo and Nanami move to leave. You hug them goodbye, making Nanami promise that he’ll be in touch more before letting him go. Gojo hovers by the door, throwing an arm around Nanami and saying, “Isn’t this nice? You and Nanami get to practice being mom and dad, since you’re raising him together!”

You slam the door shut in his face, and you can hear his muffled, “Did I say something wrong?”, to Nanami on the other side. 

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

You spend the rest of the week preparing yourself and your apartment for Yuji’s arrival. You’ve definitely bought much more than you need, because you want to make sure that Yuji will like everything that you have for him. 

Nanami is the one who drops Yuji off at your apartment. When you open the door for them, your heart melts at the sight of Yuji tucked behind Nanami’s leg. You crouch down to greet the little boy, laughing softly when he clings to Nanami’s pants shyly. 

“Hi,” you say, “I’ve heard so much about you, Yuji.”

Even when you tell him your name, he’s hesitant to say anything to you. You tilt your head at the boy. “You’re three, right?”

Finally, he steps forward. “No! I’m four!”

You let out a fake gasp of surprise. “Oh, you're right! I should have known, you’re too tall to be three.”

He grins at you and puffs out his chest in pride. You stand up straight, and your eye catches Nanami. You look down at Yuji. “Would you like to see your room?”

He jumps up and grabs your hand. “Yes, please!”

He turns to Nanami and takes one of his fingers between his tiny fist. Waiting for you to lead the way, he bounces on the balls of his feet in excitement. You exchange shy smiles with Nanami before leading the two boys to Yuji’s new room. You let him take time to admire the room. 

You picked out a red race car bed frame and a large city carpet to match. The room also has a bright painted mural of lush green hills and a smiling sun right above the bed. Yuji throws himself onto the Spider-Man bedsheets, pretending to make snow angels on it. 

“How on Earth did you do all this in one week?” Nanami asks you, and you almost laugh at the look on his face. 

You just shrug and tell him not to worry about it. His eyebrows furrow when he sees the disassembled baby crib hiding behind the door. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the question in them. 

You shrug again. “Turns out I really had no idea how old four-year-olds actually are. Silly me.”

Yuji interrupts, which is fine, since you can’t stop embarrassing yourself in front of Nanami, “Excuse me. I’m hungry, Miss.”

“No problem, Yuji! I have dinner warmed up for us.”

You guide them both to the small kitchen table to eat, pulling out some plates and utensils and setting them down beside the pot of food. 

“Will you join us?” Nanami, who’d been trailing behind the two of you, looks surprised at your question.

“Ah, I shouldn’t. I don’t want to impose.”

Yuji whines and wraps both of his arms around Nanami’s leg. “Please stay, Nanamin. Puh-lease.”

The two of you can’t help but laugh at the young boy’s antics. 

“There’s plenty of food for the three of us,” you say, trying to tempt the salaryman to stay. For Yuji’s sake, of course. You know he’ll agree based on the way he smiles at Yuji and then at you. And he does, helping Yuji into his seat and then sitting down beside him at the boy’s insistence.

Yuji talks and talks through the meal, and he seems to paint the table with his food. Nanami helps wipe curry off of his cheeks. Yuji looks up at him with puppy dog eyes, and you can sense a request coming. 

“Will you sleep over, Nanamin?”

Nanami sighs through his nose, and you know he’s struggling internally. You know, because you would too. “I can’t do that, I’m sorry.”

Yuji pouts and frowns down at his plate.

Nanami taps the point of Yuji’s nose to catch his attention. “But if you ever need anything, you can call me and I will always come. How does that sound?”

Yuji scrunches his face as he thinks about it. “Even if it’s silly?”

“Nothing you need will ever be silly, Yuji-kun.”

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

That first night, you wake up bleary eyed to Yuji standing shyly in the doorway to your bedroom. He clutches the wood between his fingers so tightly that you can hear the wood crack under his extraordinary strength. 

“Yuji? Are you alright, sweetheart?”

He shakes his head, and you turn your bedside lamp on quickly to see what the matter is. You can see tears tracking down his cheeks. 

“I had a bad dream,” he says, and the crack in his voice is obvious, though he tries not to let it show. 

After what Gojo told you of the scene that took place at the Itadori home, you can only imagine the nightmares that are plaguing his mind. You push your blanket off quickly so you can comfort him. “Do you want me to warm some milk for you? Or would you like me to tuck you back into bed?”

He looks up at you shyly. “May I have some milk, please?”

“Of course!”

You extend your hand to him, and he clutches your pointer and middle fingers in his tiny hand. You guide him to the kitchen, turning on the lamp for some soft lighting. Yuji refuses to leave your side as you prepare his milk. He wraps his arms around your leg tightly, resting his chubby cheek against the side of your leg. 

Your heart tightens at the sight of such a small, traumatized boy. You run your fingers through his light pink hair carefully as you consider just how terrified this child is. Once his milk is ready and you’ve checked that it’s not too hot, you sit with Yuji at the kitchen table until he’s taken the last few sips of his milk. 

His eyes droop sleepily and he rests his head on his tiny arms while trying not to show how tired he is. You collect his cup and rinse it with soap before leaving it on the rack to dry. Then, you focus on Yuji, who is half asleep at the table.

You lift him out of the chair. “Is this okay, Yuji?” 

In response, he wraps his arms around your neck and burrows his face into your shirt. You spread your palm over his back, and you make a promise to yourself that no one will even hurt him again. Sukuna may be the king of curses, but he’ll never have Yuji’s body to control. Not even over your dead body. 

You tuck Yuji into bed carefully, making sure that the nightlight is turned on. It shines light blue stars onto the wall that his bed is pressed against. Yuji stares at them with his tiny fists clutching the covers. Before you can think about leaving, he reaches his hand out to you. “Miss, can you stay? I’m scared.”

You don’t hesitate to sit beside him on the bed, letting him curl his body towards you. You run your hand through his hair and hum a melody you don't know the origin of until you’re sure that he’s fallen asleep. You frown and run your finger along one of the lines under his eyes. Your hand flies away when it peels open to reveal an eye. It must be Sukuna’s doing. At that realization, you feel anger rattle through your chest. 

You lean forward and whisper, “If you ever hurt him again, I will kill you.”

The eye locks onto you, almost as if acknowledging your threat. You think for a moment that Sukuna might surface, but the eye rolls back and refuses to open again. You let out a shaky breath and press a gentle hand to Yuji’s messy hair.

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

Gojo helps you enroll Yuji in preschool, in the same class as Megumi. It was a hard decision for you to make, but ultimately, you think that he needs to grow up as a normal boy. In order to make sure Sukuna won’t be able to cause issues, you are able to take up a job as a teacher’s assistant in the class. Yuji loves school, and he’s even happier when he finds out you’re staying with him in the class. 

You and Nanami do your best to give Yuji a good life and good memories. You’ve convinced Nanami to have dinner with you more often, and it helps to put Yuji on the phone and let him beg Nanami to come over. Nanami has never been able to deny Yuji, and you don’t mind the company at all. It makes you feel normal for once. 

Yuji has been staying with you for a few months now, and Nanami has been an angel the entire time. Even though he doesn’t have to, he takes the two of you out over the weekend, to eat and to do different activities to help Yuji feel normal. He commits his time to you two, even though you know he’s probably exhausted from his job. So you feel like the least you can do is invite him to your place for a home cooked meal every Friday.

On one particular day at school, the students are drawing pictures of what makes them happy. You watch over them, complimenting all of their artworks. You almost burst out into a fit of laughter at the sight of Megumi’s drawing. There’s him and his sister right in the middle, with his demon dogs drawn on either side of the two siblings. But your favorite part is the tiny drawing of Gojo that Megumi’s drawn figure is standing on top of triumphantly. You snap a quick photo to send to Gojo later. 

You compliment Nobara’s drawing next. She drew herself with giant muscles standing over a pile of beat up bodies. You smile down at the grinning girl. “Wow, Nobara! How creative!”

“Look at mine!” Yuji calls to you, pride evident in his voice. He holds his drawing up so you can see.

“Oh, Yuji! This is–” You pause to take in the drawing. The background mimics the mural that’s painted in his room. You recognize his figure, with bright pink representing his hair. Emotion clogs your throat when you see that he’s drawn himself hand in hand with a figure that you think is yourself. The drawing looks a little scary, but it's so sweet that you can’t take offense. 

“This is wonderful, Yuji, I love it! Wow, you’ve captured my spirit so well!” He grins at your praise. You notice another figure in the background hidden behind…jail bars? 

“Who’s that?” You ask, worried that it might be Sukuna scaring the boy again.

“It’s Nanamin. I drew him in his celery job.” You press your hand to your mouth to hold back a laugh and study the drawn version of your friend.

Yuji continues his explanation. “See, we’re going to save him! Can we see him soon?” He asks shyly.

You run your hand over his hair. “I’ll ask him, okay? Here, let me show him your amazing art, so he knows how much we miss him.”

you: your friend misses you

you: saving you from work is what makes him happiest

Nanami: Wow.

Nanami: He made the drawing look just like you.

you: oh fuck off

you: would you like to come over for dinner?

you: yuji reeeally misses you

Nanami: Just Yuji?

you: yes

Nanami: Oh really?

you: okay maybe we both miss you

Nanami: How about this Friday? I’ll actually be off of work at a reasonable hour.

you: yayyy!

you: is there anything specific you want to eat?

Nanami: Everything you make is delicious

you: wow, a man after my own heart

Nanami: …

Nanami: I’ll see you on Friday.

you: see you thennn :)

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

Since school lets out early on Fridays, you take Yuji with you to go grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner. Yuji helps you pick out everything from the grocery list from his seat in the shopping cart. 

The last thing you expect is the rough call of your name.

When you look up from the tomatoes that you’re looking over, your stomach drops at the sight of your ex-fiancé. His eyes flicker between you and Yuji, and you can see the disgust settling on his face. 

“You can’t be serious,” he says, and you cringe at the way his voice rises.

“Takuya.” You do your best to stay civil when you acknowledge him, but it feels more like calming a rabid animal. Not a lot has changed, then.

“No, it’s fine,” he turns as if to walk away, but of course he can’t walk away. He’s never been able to do that, except to walk away from your relationship nearly two years ago. “It’s just…you had all that shit to say, but now you’re walkin’ around with a kid. He's—what—five? Are you serious? Are you fucking serious?”

You place a comforting hand over Yuji’s arm and turn the cart so that your entire body is blocking Takuya’s view of Yuji. “Watch your language. You don’t get to act like this when you don’t know anything about the situation. But I guess it never matters, not when you always make up your mind before I speak a single word.”

He takes a step closer. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You cheated, didn’t you? You hid this bastard kid and you blamed everything on me so that you could start fresh. It wasn’t fucking health issues, you killed my baby.”

He's all up in your face now, pointing an accusing finger at you. You’re not intimidated by him, you’ve never been thanks to the power you know is thrumming underneath your skin. 

But Yuji whimpers, “Mama?”

You blink at the new title, looking back at the little boy. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he stares at Takuya with a curl at his lip. Sukuna’s eye twitches from its spot on his face. You maneuver your shopping cart away from Takuya.

“Don’t ever speak to me again. I won’t tolerate any of your insecure spiraling,” you tell him firmly, before disappearing down an aisle and heading straight to the check-out queue. 

You pay and leave as quickly as you can, and you notice Yuji’s concern as you clip him into his booster seat. You tap his nose to get his attention. “Hey, don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’d never let him—or anyone—hurt you.”

But of course, Yuji brings it up during dinner that evening to Nanami. The little tattletale drags out every excruciating detail of the encounter, talking about the scary man who screamed at you and tried to hurt you. You cringe as he somehow manages to make it sound worse than it actually was. You blame yourself for not shielding him from it better.

Nanami’s head snaps to you. “What?”

Your hand tightens around your fork as you push your food around your plate. You look over at Nanami and mouth, Later, staring pointedly at Yuji. His jaw clenches, but he nods.

After Yuji takes his bath and gets tucked into bed, you pour Nanami and yourself glasses of red wine and sit at the couch to unwind.

“What was Yuji talking about earlier?” Nanami wastes no time in asking. 

You sigh and take a long sip of wine. “We bumped into my ex at the store. Takuya and I…we didn’t end things in a good place. He blamed me for the whole relationship falling apart.” 

You down the rest of your wine and place the empty glass on the coffee table. You pull your knees up to your chest. “And…I guess he was right in a way.”

Nanami looks like he wants to argue, but he stays silent and lets you speak. You puff out a breath. “We found out we were pregnant a few months before he broke off the engagement. I was so happy. We both were. We were gonna have a little girl.” Your hand goes to your stomach instinctually.

“I–I didn’t know that my uterus was broken.” You spit the word out like it’s poison. “I lost the baby in the second month. I thought at first it was my curse technique, maybe it saw the fetus as a threat. But no, it was just genetics. So pathetic.”

Nanami has his arms around you and he’s wiping away tears you don’t remember shedding. “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You are not broken. And no matter what that asshole says, it is not your fault. I’m sorry that you had to go through it alone.”

You sniffle into his shoulder, pressing into his comforting hold. “It was so hard, not telling anyone. But I felt so weak, and I was too much of a coward to face any of you.”

Nanami pulls back to look at you. He cradles your cheek in his hand. “You are the strongest sorcerer and the strongest woman I have the pleasure of l– of knowing. A difficult situation does not make you weak.”

You let out a wet laugh. “Don’t let Gojo hear you say that.”

Nanami doesn’t hesitate. “It’s the truth. I’ll scream it from the rooftop so he can hear me if you like.”

You shake your head. “I just hate that Yuji had to hear all of it. Takuya saw him and he…he just exploded. I guess he assumed Yuji was biologically mine, and he figured that I lied about not being able to have kids so that I could break off the engagement without it being my fault. He scared Yuji really badly.”

Nanami's jaw tenses. “Did he lay a hand on either of you? Because I swear, I’ll–”

You shake your head. “No, I made sure he didn’t. Actually, I was more worried that Yuji would use Sukuna’s cursed energy to wipe him off the face of the earth. He–” you smile at the memory from earlier. “Yuji called me Mama. Can you believe it?”

You lay your head against Nanami’s chest. He pets the back of your head gently. “He really loves you.”

You lift your head to look at him. “He loves you too. It always feels so incomplete here without you. Like…like a piece of this puzzle is always missing when you’re not around.”

You notice then that your face is really close to Nanami’s. Your eyes drag from his lips up to his eyes, only to find him already staring at you. You lean forward a few centimeters, and that small bit of movement snaps Nanami out of his trance. He untangles your bodies quickly, clearing his throat. Your heart drops in disappointment, and you’re embarrassed that your desire made you act so irrationally that you would make him so uncomfortable. 

“We shouldn’t,” he says softly.

“Sorry,” you mutter, blinking rapidly. “I…I don’t know why I–” 

Nanami murmurs your name, but you absolutely cannot handle that right now, so you change course. You stand quickly and collect both of your empty wine glasses to leave in the sink for tomorrow. 

“I… I should go.” Nanami says, but he doesn’t move yet. 

You turn away from him so that you’re facing the sink. “You can stay the night. It’s well past midnight, and I know you’re no lightweight but you had a bit to drink earlier.”

He hesitated for a moment, but when you turn back around to face him, he nods in agreement. 

You think on autopilot. “The couch pulls out into a mattress, but you can have the bed if you want. I think Takuya left some sweats that might fit. I–I’ll go find those.”

Nanami calls your name, but you turn away. Coward. “Don’t, Ken.”

You find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that looks large enough. You lay them on the pulled out mattress alongside a pillow and a thick blanket while Nanami is in the bathroom. You go to bed quickly after that, just taking a moment to check on Yuji in his bed. He’s fast asleep, and the sight of him helps you relax slightly.

The next morning, you opt to make pancakes for breakfast. Nanami joins you silently while you cook. He starts a pot of coffee and takes over cooking the turkey bacon and eggs while you cut fruit. Neither of you say a word.

You clean up the dishes in the sink while you wait for Yuji to wake up. Nanami dries while you sponge and wash. Once you’ve cleaned the last dish, he turns off the water and dries his hands on a towel before handing it to you. 

He whispers your name, in the honey-smooth way that he always does. Does he know that you’d do anything he asked with just a single word? His fingers tilt your chin so that you’re forced to look at him. His eyes flicker down and then back up to meet your own. He moves forward a centimeter before pausing and pulling back his hand slightly. 

Your heart jumps, and you frown. “You’re a cruel man, Kento.”

His thumb caresses your skin. “I…I’ve wanted you for so long, and I don’t want to ruin this balance. What if it doesn’t work out? How will it affect Yuji?”

“Kiss me,” you beg him, leaning forward to brush your nose against his jaw. “For once, don’t think, Ken. Please,” you whisper into his ear.

His hand cups your jaw firmly and he leans his head forward to mold his lips against yours, pressing deliciously into your desperate mouth. Your hand drags up his undercut, scraping your nails against the back of his head until your hand digs into his longer strands of hair. You feel his hands travel down until they wrap comfortably around your waist, as if they’re meant to fit there. 

He lifts you up suddenly onto the counter, causing you to laugh against his mouth. His large hands wrap around your knees, kneading up gently into the plush of your thighs. His nose travels from your rapidly rising and falling chest to your neck to the corner of your mouth, until he can press destinationless kisses anywhere he can reach.

“I’m leaving my job,” he mutters into your mouth.

You pull back to stare at him. “You’re…what?”

He dips his head into the crook of your neck. “I talked to Gojo about it. I’m going to be a sorcerer again.”

Your heart stutters, and even though you know Nanami is more than capable of doing so, you can’t help but worry for him. “Oh? Why now?”

“I want to be around more, and I want to protect you and Yuji. I hate sorcery as much as I hate being a salaryman, but at least I’ll be able to help people more than I do now.”

You drag your hands through his hair, watching him shut his eyes and tilt his head back. You hum, staring down at him. “Hm. I can get used to seeing you here all the time.”

He peels his eyes open and stares at you through lidded eyes. There’s a soft smile on his face. “Yeah?”

You laugh giddily, holding his cheeks between your hands. “How could this ever ruin us?”

He hums. “Right as always, dear.”

“Mama?” You pull your face away from Nanami quickly.

Yuji is standing in the kitchen’s doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Nanami helps you down off the counter without a word. You meet Yuji halfway, lifting him up and swinging him around happily. Nanami places the plates of food at the center of the table.

“Yujiii! Look at the funny face me and Nanamin made for you out of pancakes and fruit!”

You sit him into his seat, watching his face light up in delight at the plate Nanami places in front of him. 

He gives each of you a look of suspicion, narrowing his eyes. “Does that mean you’re gonna get married now?”

You stutter. “Yuji!”

He looks at you bashfully. “Gojo-san said you’re gonna be married soon.”

You sigh. “Oh, honey. Gojo likes to tease us all a lot, hm?”

Yuji pouts and grasps your hand. “Oh, please marry Nanamin, Mama. Please, please, please.”

You laugh, glancing over at nanami who shares your mirth. “Maybe one day, Yuji.”

He cheers and looks over at Nanami. “And then can I call you Papa?”

Nanami looks stunned. He looks to you for guidance, and you smile encouragingly. He places his hand on Yuji's shoulder gently. “If you like, Yuji-kun. You can call me Papa whenever you like.”

Yuji grins, showing off his gap-tooth smile. He lifts his hands in the air. “Pa-pa-min! Pa-pa-min!”

Nanami’s hand covers your own through the rest of the meal, refusing to lose contact with you for even a moment. It takes almost a full minute of feeling his touch against the back of your hand to notice that he’s absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb along your finger right where a wedding ring would be.

You sigh, happier than ever. Yeah, you can get used to this kind of life.

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

[m-robinavitch]

29 with andrew cody i beg of you🥺🙏

Okay this got away from me- I know this might not be what you wanted but I took creative liberties and went with it 😭

Pairing: Andrew “Pope” Cody x F!Reader

Trope: Virgin with experienced partner

Warning: 18+ MDNI, smut, inexperienced with sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (m and f receiving), sub!Andrew

“Fuck- you’re- you’re doing so good for me baby. So f-fucking good, lemme see those pretty eyes- can you look at me please?” He felt so fucking good inside you- delicious stretch around his heavy cock that he swears is average at best. Andrew didn’t think there was much for you to be praising him for- but in all honesty he was too focused on not cumming the second your wet pussy slid down on his aching cock. He never really had sex before- not that he thinks anyway. Maybe a few touches and teases but he’s never been as deep inside someone as he is right now- fuck you were perfect. “That’s it Andrew- slowly okay baby? You feel so- fuck you feel amazing-“

Andrew was fine with never having had sex before. Honestly he didn’t think about it and- well it was insurance on his part in making sure there was no way someone would end up with his kid. He was also perfectly content with eating someone out- not even as foreplay but just as the act itself because that was pleasurable for him. He could spend hours between your thighs- tasting and licking and finding out what sounds you made when he did something a certain way while you tugged on the curls at the top of his head. But when you finally asked if you could return the favor he tensed- no one had ever wanted to do that before. No other girl had asked to make him feel good and you had to beg him almost.

“Stop me if you need to okay?” Maybe you just wanted to hear the sweet sound of how Andrew sounded- completely wrecked and at your mercy. But when you pulled his boxers down you had to suppress the gasp in your chest because he was big- already leaking precum from the red tip and if you weren’t dying to have your lips wrapped around him then you would have fucked him then and there. The sweet sound of his groans was enough to force you to push through the stretch of your jaw, the gag you attempted to suppress when not even halfway down he already nudged the back of your throat. Your mouth was so warm and wet that he didn’t last long at all- already cumming on your tongue when you tried to pull off of him to lick lower down the shaft.

And that night after you both had touched every inch of each other’s bodies- kissing and licking along any skin in your path, he told you that he never had sex before. That no one tried to make him feel good like you had- and that he wanted to try with you. It made your heart thump harder than ever because- he was trusting you. He was trusting you to see him vulnerable and put his pleasure in your hands and you eagerly awaited until there was an opportunity. A week later you had him under you- straddling his waist and grinding into his hips with only your underwear as the barrier.

“F-fuck, please, baby I need-“ he couldn’t speak. His heavy breathing and whiny gasps stopped him from forming a complete sentence and his mind was stuck from concentrating on not cumming from just the way your clothed pussy was dragging over him.

“What do you need Andrew?” You smiled, brushing his hair back a bit but continuing the way you were torturing him under you. “Tell me pretty boy- use your words.” While he fumbled over his tongue you rose up on your knees so slide your underwear down your legs- the sight only made him whine more because he’s dreamt of how you must feel.

“Fuck me- need you to fuck me,” he cut off with a groan- the wet folds of your cunt slowly ran along the underside of his cock before teasing his top at your entrance. He’ll beg. He wants to fucking beg you but you have mercy on him and immediately start to slide back onto him with your mouth pressed against his. Fuck. He’s never fucking anyone else. Andrew is never going to think about someone else ever again because your pussy was made for him. Tight and wet and he’s already thinking about cumming so he can paint the inside of you and claim you as his.

“Good- good boy,” you praised, sitting upright so you can place you palms on his chest as leverage to raise up on your knees and fuck yourself on his thick cock. He was big- heavy and fit so deliciously snug inside your velvety walls that you already resigned to never having anyone inside you but Andrew. You could hear it in his gasps and moans that he was already close- even without sex he was so tightly wound up that you knew it would snap easily. “Relax baby, only us okay?” He was digging his fingers into your hips- holding you tight as if he was trying to get a grip on himself but you took his hands and laced your fingers with his.

“I’m not- I’m already-“ he was stuttering, eyes closed again because he didn’t want to disappoint you with this short lived moment but-

“Look at me Andrew, lemme see you when you cum inside me.” He had seconds to spare. Embarrassed and apologizing but you shushed him with soft kissed and gentle words. There will be many more moments together where he can practice.

[liorabb]

All Fucking Night

You told him once he could have you for a night.

He took that personally.

It starts at midnight.

Your back hits the mattress, and Rafe is already between your legs — shirt half-off, jaw clenched like he’s holding back a storm.

“You think I’m gonna stop after one round?” he growls. “You don’t fucking know me.”

You try to sass back — a smirk, a tease — but the second he shoves inside you again, all that wit dies in your throat. He’s deep, rough, and already fucking you like he’s mad at your body for not staying full of him.

His hand wraps around your throat. His other pins your wrists above your head.

“You gave me one night?” he pants, hips slamming into yours. “One? You think I’m done when you can still speak?”

You whimper, legs trembling around his hips.

“Look at you. Already wrecked, and it’s not even 1 AM.”

He finishes inside you — hard — but doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t even slow down. He just drags his cock through your overstimulated cunt, watching your thighs twitch with every grind of his hips.

“I’m not done,” he says low. “I want you to feel me leaking out of you all fucking day tomorrow.”

1:30 AM

He flips you onto your stomach.

You cry out — sensitive, swollen, sore — but he just grabs your hips and drags you back onto his cock like your body belongs to him.

“You’re taking it so good now,” he says, breath hot against your spine. “Like you want me to ruin you.”

Slap.

His palm smacks your ass — hard — just to hear you gasp.

“You like that?”

“Want Rafey to fuck you until you forget your name?”

You choke on a moan. You’re not sure if you say yes — you just know you’re clenching around him like your body needs to obey.

He pulls your hair. Makes you arch. Bites your shoulder.

And when you come again — twitching, sobbing, body too sensitive — he groans and fucks you deeper.

“Don’t cry yet,” he whispers darkly.

“We’ve got hours to go.”

3:00 AM

You’re on the floor now. Knees raw against the rug.

He’s kneeling in front of you, thumb on your chin.

“Open up.”

You do. Obedient. Mindless.

He pushes his cock into your mouth, slow and filthy, groaning when your tongue flicks up the vein he likes. His hands hold your head still — guiding, controlling, using.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Such a pretty fuckhole.”

When he finishes, he strokes your cheek with a gentleness that doesn’t match his voice.

“Get on the bed.”

You can barely walk. He likes that.

4:45 AM

You’re beneath him again.

Your body’s a mess — slick, marked, bruised from his hands and teeth. He’s whispering filth into your ear between thrusts, making you clench and cry.

“You’re mine now.”

“Say it.”

“Say who fucks you right.”

“You—Rafe—it’s you, fuck—please—”

He kisses your throat. Bites your collarbone.

His cock is so deep you swear you feel him in your chest.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” he snarls, breath shaking.

“So everyone knows who you fucking belong to.”

You cum — again — tighter than ever, soaking him, shaking under his body like you’re about to break.

He doesn’t stop.

6:00 AM.

The sun’s barely up.

You’re lying on your side, limp, raw, completely full of him.

Rafe is behind you, one arm around your waist, the other between your thighs, still playing with your pussy — slow now, lazy, like he’s just killing time before round… what, six?

“You awake?” he murmurs, kissing the back of your neck.

“Good. I was starting to miss the sound of you crying.”

Your breath hitches. He pushes two fingers in — wet, messy, easy from how wrecked you are — and curls them perfectly against your g-spot.

“One more,” he whispers. “You got one more for me, baby.”

And you do.

Because Rafe Cameron doesn’t stop until your body gives out.

And even then?

He’ll carry you to the shower.

So he can do it all over again.