#I'll even draw it on stream for all to see how about that

[toxicdogs]

Hey nerds throw ur fav locked tomb scene at me I want to draw a comic.

[s0dium]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐗

A/n: Almost kinktober guys ;) Synopsis: How many rounds can JJK men go for? Characters: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Choso, Sukuna Ryomen Warnings: Doggy, mating press, multiple orgasms, sub space, overstimulation, dub-con, photo taking, cock warming, nipple sucking, finger sucking, breeding, unprotected sex, virgin!Choso, mentions of masturbation, pussy drunk men

☆ Gojo Satoru: 3-4

The longest three rounds of your life

You think he can stop just cumming in you once? Hell no. The best part about sex is when he can see his cum oozing out of you with each push.

Also loves overstimulating himself until he is a groaning mess.

Unfortunately for you, Gojo Satoru is NOT a one-minute man.

"Awe come on don't go zoning out on me now~"

Gojo's voice is teasing, a low, melodic coo that slides into your ears as you struggle to focus. His grin is wide, almost predatory, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement as he leans in closer. You’re hazy, breathless, your mind clouded with pleasure, barely able to register the words.

"S'cant... feel too...” You mumbled and thrashed against Gojo's hold, forcing him to pin your wrists together above your head while he pistoned into you with brute force. Sure it's only the second round for him but for you, he's brought you over the edge more than your poor poor body can handle.

Your body feels completely spent, trembling with overstimulation as your legs, sore from the constant tightening and untightening, hang limp in Gojo's grip. He’s folded you in half, his hands pressing your legs against your chest, locking you in place with ease. The room feels heavy, a warm haze clouding your thoughts as you realize you’ve been drooling, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure to even care.

“Feel fucking amazing Jesus Christ.” Gojo manages to groan out between pants followed by a string of curses. Every time he leaves the clutch of your cunny, his cock is coated in a thick shiny sheen of creaminess, and when he snaps his hips back in, it settles right at the base of him, painting your puffy pussy lips as well. Gojo effortlessly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, sinking even deeper into you with each forceful thrust. The new angle, paired with the relentless pace of his hips snapping against yours, sends you spiraling dangerously close to the edge. Your grip on the sheets falters, hands slipping as tears streak down your flushed cheeks. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling beneath you, completely mind-fucked and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes every inch of your body.

Your limbs have no strength left to resist—no, you don’t want to. Every nerve in your body is thrumming, begging for more as you let him take control. His every movement draws out a fresh wave of sensation, each thrust sending you spiraling closer to that next high. You can’t stop it—there’s no chance to. Your body is his to use, to pull pleasure from again and again, and all you can do is surrender to the bliss as it builds, crashing over you uncontrollably.

"Come for me baby," Gojo coos. "I'll cum in you and if it spills we can start all over again."

~

☆ Toji Fushiguro: 6

First three you are riding him and doing all the work.

Then when your legs give out thats even he fucks you silly

He is so big :( Sometimes he has to let you cock warm him for a bit so you can catch your breath

This is it you where going to die.

You were going to be fucked to death.

"Shhh, stop crying would you? Yer' taking it like a champ I promise."

Two big hands come up to your face to wipe the hot tears streaming down your face. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, every muscle quivering as waves of pleasure leave you numb and overwhelmed. It’s like your senses have short-circuited, leaving you shaking, barely able to register anything beyond the intense, lingering sensation pulsing through you.

Even though Toji is unmoving inside you, your pussy cannot stop spasming from the pleasure of his fat tip pressed up against your g-spot. Even if he wanted to pull out right now, Toji doubts that your cunt would give up the vice grip on his cock. Coincidentally that meant that he was keeping you plugged with 3 loads of warm sticky cum in your tight walls.

"Fuck still so tight baby, you want me to fuck you more don't you?" Toji's voice is a low, teasing coo as his focus shifts to your breasts, his tongue flicking over each hardened nipple, tracing slow, lazy circles that send shivers down your spine. One hand squeezes your breast, kneading the soft flesh, while the other glides over your sides and stomach, his touch warm and deliberate, drawing out every sensation. With all the strength you can muster, you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer to you so that you can feel his cock push impossibly farther into you, and he moans into your breast, biting your nipple softly. 

Then, without releasing your nipple from his mouth, he begins the slow roll of his hips into your sloppy cunt. Toji's hips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each roll pressing him deeper into you with a tantalizing, unhurried pace. His movements are controlled, almost teasing, as he grinds against you, making you feel every inch, every pulse of his dick as he draws out your pleasure with each smooth thrust.

"Just take it m'kay? You can handle it."

~

☆ Geto Suguru: 4

Geto is a real fiend

The breaks between sex consist of him drinking water and kissing the water into your mouth. After that it's right back to fucking.

Loves taking photos of his cum oozing out of you. Looks at it when he is bored.

“So pretty….”

Drool dripped from your chin onto the pillow below, mixing with the tears streaming from your eyes, which were rolled back in bliss. Your breath hitched the moment Geto's hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back just enough to catch his gaze out of the corner of your eye. As your eyes lock, a dark, knowing smirk curves on his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. You were finally getting used to the dizzying, mind-numbing pressure of his tip crashing into your cervix—but the bad news? Your legs were completely numb, trembling and useless beneath you.

 “Did you hear what I said doll?”

 Whatever was left of your mind tried to reign back its focus on the man pistoning into you from behind, but as it turned out, there wasn’t much. The friction of his cock dragging against you was unbearable, even with the syrupy cum soaking the walls of your quivering pussy. All you could do was dizzily nod, earning a chuckle from Geto while he eyes the way your hips instinctively raise so his cock can sink even deeper into you from behind. If you could only know the heaven your cunt you're putting his mind in, he is sure you'd be the one smirking. Geto even has to bite harshly on his lip to stop himself from whimpering every time your sticky pussy spasms from pleasure.

The euphoria came in waves of electric current that pulsed through your sloppy pussy and the only thing keeping you grounded his loads of warm sticky cum dripping down your thigh.  

 “Come on speak to me baby, I've only come two times, we've barely even started.”

 The wet sounds of Geto's dick slipping in and out of you filled the room and your senses. His cock filled you so much better than your hands ever could, hitting that gummy spot inside your walls over and over again perfectly, and you wondered how you were ever satisfied with the way you masturbated before you met him.

 “I’m a lucky man arent I? To have such an obedient baby with such a pretty pussy.” His hand comes to your face to caress your cheek, and you nestle into his touch while his thumb wipes away your tears. Your too busy immersing in the warmth of his palm to notice the flash of light and the sound of a shutter above you. Even when you turn your head back in curiosity, all you see is Geto staring at the screen of his phone with a lazy grin spread on his face.

~

☆ Choso: 2

Give this man a break! He's a half century old curse who has never fucked before!

You should be glad that he didn't cum by just slipping his tip in, because oh god lord he is seeing colors.

Choso swore he wasn't a whimpering man. Nothing that good could ever make him stumble over his words like a schoolboy. But Jesus Christ, he was not expecting you.

“F-fuck, you’re tight,” Choso groans hoarsely. You felt good? Try god-like, Choso's mind was in euphoria right now. His hand or a fleshlight could never compare to the way your gummy walls sucked him in and hugged his cock.

"M'feel good Cho~" You whine, head thrown back against the plush pillow. The stretch was delicious. It had you squirming and writhing and you couldn't help but tighten as your body tried to push out the large foreign intrusion. You gasped when you felt his tip smush against your cervix, little bolts of electricity being sent through your stomach as he pressed against you.

Choso was slow at first, wanting to still admire the way your cunt swallows him up, the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He whines at how hot you are on the inside, but he’s quick to change to a faster pace.

Choso’s voice comes out in a deep, breathless groan, his grip tightening as he leans closer, his words heavy with need. "W-wanna do this all the time. Every day, baby," he rasps, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, completely lost in the sensation. Each thrust seems to pull the words from his lips as if he can’t hold back, his body trembling with how good it feels. The thought of having you like this, over and over, only spurs him on, his pace quickening as he grinds against you, desperate to make this moment last forever.

Unable to handle the sensation, your hands grab his shoulder and grip them for dear life. Choso doesn’t let up his pace, in fact he increases it, pounding your poor little cunt with no remorse. His mind is foggy, everything just feels and looks so so good, he’s not even thinking when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, digits pressing down on your tongue and swirling around in the spit.

“Your gonna let me use you when ever I want right? Gotta lot of time to make up for, you gonna be a good girl and always make me feel good right?”

~

☆ Sukuna Ryomen: Lord have mercy

It depends.

Its either the longest no-break sex marathon of your life or 6 even seven rounds with small breaks in between.

Unfortunately, Sukuna is a sadist, it's a headcanon that he might prioritize his pleasure over yours. Combine that with his godly stamina and you have an insane combo.

Kneeling helplessly, both your wrists pinned behind you by just one of Sukuna’s powerful arms, you can only brace yourself as he thrusts into you from behind, each powerful movement sending shockwaves through your body as he effortlessly controls your every breath, your every tremble.

"C-cant do this!" you cry, your voice breaking as Sukuna's grip tightens around your wrists, holding you firmly in place. Your legs are sore from this kneeling position and the angle that his cock hits you is so euphoric it's almost painful from the sheer collision. Sukuna chuckles darkly, his pace relentless as he leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your neck.

"Oh, but you will," he growls, each word dripping with wicked amusement, his hips driving into you harder. "You don’t have a choice."

You can only wail in response, the sound escaping your lips uncontrollably as the overwhelming pleasure consumes you. Every thrust sends a wave of heat surging through your body, your mind going blank as Sukuna fills you completely, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. The pressure builds with each deep, forceful stroke, your body trembling beneath him, and all you can do is surrender to the intense, all-encompassing bliss that threatens to pull you under.

"Such a good girl, you're a natural submissive, aren't you? Or maybe you just loved being fucked like the slut you are."

How much time has passed? You can’t even tell anymore—everything blurs together in a haze of pleasure and heat. The rhythm of Sukuna’s relentless pistoning becomes the only thing grounding you, your mind foggy and lost as your body responds to him instinctively. Each second feels stretched out, an eternity of raw sensation as you teeter on the brink, utterly consumed by the moment.

"Gonna fuck you like this till I’ve had my fill, got that?" Sukuna’s voice is a low, dangerous growl in your ear, the words sending a shiver down your spine as he presses deeper.

[prael]

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."

[choerypetal]

Nap Time. / Mike Schmidt

Summary : You knew Mike ever since moving next door to his. While you were suggesting to look for a job and him in deed for a babysitter, to keep Abby during his night shifts. You accepted even at times to offer overtime, due to the nights at his work being somewhat more difficult than he had thought. Meaning having to also prepare tonight's dinner when Mike went to take a Nap. Warning : None, Just fluff!

Enjoy!

Mike had diligently prepared your paychecks for the past few months. Despite facing personal challenges, he consistently maintained his commitment to honesty. However, as he handed you your paycheck this time, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. His gaze appeared strangely vacant, and he seemed to avoid eye contact, in line with his prior preference for avoiding meaningless, drawn-out conversations. You couldn't help but observe his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles underneath them, signaling that he hadn't enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep in quite a while.

Although you offered to stay a little longer, realizing that dinner wasn't ready and Abby was getting ready for bed, he firmly declined, shaking his head nervously, his stuttering making his anxiety apparent. "No–Noo– It’s– Abby can–" It was at this moment that you understood he had lost everything. The memories from that second night at the Pizzeria and the children were haunting him. He began to disconnect from reality, feeling his body temperature rise and sweat bead on his forehead. If Mike wasn't already in a state of torment, he had surely been gone for a long time.

"I insist." You firmly stated, believing in your words this time. Abby, who had been hesitant to peek from outside her room, came over to hug you. Seeing that you were still there, she tugged at the end of your shirt, signaling that you could stay even if her brother had chosen not to. She preferred spending more time with you, especially after all the recent events. While she deeply cared about her brother, she understood that sometimes adults needed their space, particularly when it involved taking Abby away from Mike and into the care of her aunt, who she herself had strongly objected to it. 

Mike observed the two of you, momentarily captivated by how he managed to keep his composure after all he had been through. He let out a sigh, soothingly rubbed his neck, and finally agreed before Abby could voice another protest directly. "Alright, alright. It wouldn't hurt if you stayed a little longer... Maybe  to also getting dinner ready too?"

A smile graced your features as you graciously accepted his request, fully aware of his fatigue. "I'll go take a nap if you... don't mind?" Without waiting for your response, he promptly headed to his room, leaving Abby and you alone in the room. "He's been rather grumpy lately." Abby remarked, her expression conveying her amusement as you playfully ruffled her hair. "Can I help?" She then offered to assist you with dinner, a proposition you welcomed with enthusiasm. "Of course. How about I handle the vegetables, and you mix everything?" Abby's face lit up with delight, and she eagerly took your arm, guiding you both to the kitchen.

The cooking process unfolded smoothly, with you patiently waiting for the spaghetti sauce to simmer according to your mother's cherished recipe, allowing it to develop its flavors over a few hours. As Abby settled in to watch her favorite nighttime comedy shows, you made the decision to rouse Mike from his nap before dinner was ready. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing he was in a somewhat disheveled state.

Carefully entering his room, your eyes wandered around, taking in the old drawings, family photographs, and a few posters that appeared to be recent additions, their sheen reflecting the moonlight streaming in through the window. Moving closer to his slumbering form, you gently brushed your fingers across his cheek, prompting him to emit a few soft whimpers in response to your tender touch. You couldn't help but smile, and as you continued to caress his cheek, you noticed his fingers entwining with yours. Initially, you thought it might be a sign to stop, but he murmured, "Please continue..." So softly that it nearly startled you, caught off guard by his vulnerability.

Mike unmistakably recognized your presence, discerning your perfume's scent and the tender affection you consistently bestowed upon him whenever the opportunity arose. However, tonight felt notably distinct, one of those nights when he needed your support the most. It pained him to see you openly caring for a guy burdened with numerous life problems, yet it was one of the aspects about you that he strangely admired, particularly your strong bond with Abby. As you prepared to rise and apologize for waking him so abruptly, he urged you to do the opposite. "Stay for a little while." he murmured, his words soft and slightly hoarse due to his dehydration, as he struggled to express himself.

In response, you emitted a soft hum and nodded, though you were uncertain if he truly meant it. He gently took hold of your wrist, assisting you in settling on his bed in front of him, his body shifting closer to yours. He rested his head on the crook of your neck, exhaling the familiar scent he had always been infatuated with. Though initially feeling a bit uneasy, you nervously cleared your throat and mentioned that dinner was nearly ready. However, he declined, saying, "Abby will know when to... Just stay here for a while."

You realized that declining wasn't even an option as Mike's arms were wrapped around your waist so tightly that he showed no intention of letting go any time soon. Although the sudden display of affection caught you off guard, you couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy this tranquil moment. Your soft smile graced your lips, and at just the right moment, Mike's eyes opened from his deep slumber, fixing on yours with a quizzical brow raised at the sight of your unexpected smile.

"What's the smile for?" He inquired, though he understood the meaning behind it and pretended not to, instead focusing on admiring every feature of your face. You shrugged, perhaps waiting for Mike to provide an answer, but he insisted that you share your thoughts. "I suppose it's just about sharing this moment with you." You confessed with a gentle smile.

"Is it?" He inquired, adopting a teasing tone, causing your cheeks to flush with warmth in response to the unexpected situation. Despite working as a babysitter for Mike, you had never anticipated or considered the possibility of a deeper relationship, let alone sharing his bed at this moment. As you found yourself also admiring his face, a subtle tingling sensation fluttered in your stomach—a mix of desire and affection for the man who had initially been nothing more than a neighbor.

"It is." You firmly concurred, your smile now more at ease. You couldn't help but giggle at how silly you must have sounded, only to then realize that the man who loved you, perhaps even adored you, had been right there in front of you all along. "I'm glad then..." He whispered softly, gently caressing your cheek. He showed no intention of releasing you for a while, even when he sensed your desire to do so, as the aroma of tomato sauce filled the entire house, signaling that dinner was ready.

"Nuh-Uh." He protested with a playful pout, fully aware of where your attention had swiftly shifted. "Pasta can wait just a little longer, please." He pleaded, emphasizing the word 'please.' His protest was more of a source of amusement than a genuine plea for pity. This time it was more of an theatrical performance, and you understood his intention. Even though you didn't make a strong effort to comply, you decided to stay a little longer, especially when you felt his lips against your skin. “I bet you even taste better than your mom’s spaghetti..” His journey from your neck to your collarbone brought a smile to your lips, intensifying the blush that had adorned your cheeks earlier.

In an attempt to deflect from your deepening blush, you attempted to cover it, but Mike had the time to gently lifted your chin as he turned your body to face him. "Did I ever told you that you look like an angel sent from above?" He boldly stated, making you initially think he might have lost his mind with such a bold compliment. However, you chuckled casually and replied. "I suppose so?" You decided to play along, mimicking the playful banter he had engaged in earlier, feigning innocence with a hint of sarcasm. To your surprise, this seemed to arouse him even more, making him desire you exclusively.

"You know."A familiar and youthful voice suddenly chimed in between the two of you, and Abby's figure peeked into Mike's room. You heard a sigh of annoyance, coupled with a sense of embarrassment, as you both realized where you had been all this time. Mike chuckled, "Yes, yes, Abby. We'll be right there for dinner."

"You heard her," you declared, joining Abby to help her get ready to serve dinner. Just as you were about to rise, Mike couldn't hide a pout, one that compelled you to lean in and press a soft kiss on his lips without hesitation. "Come on, grumpy old man. I'm hungry," you playfully protested, rubbing your stomach and indicating that he wouldn't receive any more kisses if he didn't comply. He sighed but abandoned the idea of keeping you both in bed, realizing his own hunger as his stomach grumbled in agreement.

As you got up and left the room, you glanced back at him with affectionate eyes before finally leaving to join Abby. It was in that moment that Mike fully comprehended the depth of what was happening—sharing his life with someone else, someone he loved and cared for deeply. It was something he hadn't expected, but here you were.

For once, Mike felt a sense of rest and inner peace.

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: even as you grow older, you'll always be his baby sister

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: strawhats x sanjissister!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lowercase intentional, cursing, allusions to insecurities

𝐚/𝐧: this is basically just sanji curing my childhood wish for a big brother. i have more ideas about how sanji would be at his wits end with a reckless little sister so look out for those hehe

i imagine sanji is two years older than you, but it never felt like it. you and him were never apart for too long, more by obligation than choice.

so it was no surprise when sanji dragged confused little you with him as he hid from the pirates invading the ship, only outing your hiding place in the name of saving his food from oregano.

you'd hurried after him, of course; that's all you knew to do at such a young age.

and when zeff had sanji up against the wall, being so young meant you also knew only one thing to do in this situation: you bit zeff, latching your teeth around his arm and drawing blood from his broken skin.

zeff howled and very nearly threw you into the wall as well, before his eyes zeroed in on you, this little girl with wild eyes and a mighty strong jaw. he only jerked you off him, then, staring from you to sanji then back to you. "wha—? what kind of little gremlin just bites a man?!" your eyes were steely. "I'm not a gremlin." then, "bitch." though it was clear you didn't understand what it meant, probably catching it from the other chefs of the now sieged ship. gritting his teeth, zeff continued on his shouting. it made you and sanji angry, and zeff marveled at how your expressions were twin–like, despite your difference in appearance. then, the ship had wrecked, and it all went downhill from there.

sanji always made sure you’d eaten more than him on that damn rock, even when you fought him and scratched him as he forced a morsel of bread into your mouth.

he'd held your hand as you cried the first ten days, and he had mourned when on the eleventh, your eyes took on a dead sort of sheen, like you were now a decade older in the head.

it was unnerving, really.

sanji learned a lot on that rock. like what it meant to be the responsible one, or at least more responsible than you.

sanji just wanted you to listen, but it seemed like all his words went in one ear and out the other. you wouldn't eat despite all his begging, only staring at him with that horridly blank stare and pushing the food back toward him. tears started to form at the corners of his eyes as he held up the very last piece of bread. "please," he begged. "please just eat it." you shook you head, forcing the tears to stream down his cheeks. that broke through your indifference, your frown deepening as you inched closer to him. "we'll half it," you offered, taking his shaking hand and guiding him to split the bread, taking one half and waiting for him to calm down before you ate in silence. you really did feel older than him, and he didn't like it. only when that night fell did he realize you were simply a very, very good actor. your whimpers were like thunder in his ears as he sprang up from a featherlight sleep, his eyes locking on your quivering form just a hair's breadth away. "y/n?" he whispered, shaking your shoulder. you spooked awake, and in the reflection of moonlight he saw glinting tears traced down your face. "nightmare?" your nod and sniffle tore him up inside, and in seconds he was hugging you to his chest, telling you stories till he was sure you were at least sleeping better than him. "someday," he said, "we'll find a place where we'll never go hungry. where every flavor and ingredient can be found. the all blue. i'll take us there, and we'll never starve again." you were asleep by the time he started plotting to raid zeff's side of the rock in the morning. it had been sanji who guarded you from seeing the stump left of zeff's leg, ignoring you when you asked him to explain what was happening.

growing up on the baratie was an experience, for sure.

your only company were the crooks who worked in the kitchen alongside you and sanji, and you found them amusing company indeed.

especially when they started teaching you how to be a remarkable little con-artist. once in your late teens, it wasn't long before you'd abandoned your work in the kitchen to wait tables.

not only were the tips amazing to pocket away, but your charming smile and whimsical attitude made you a master of sympathy.

there isn't a customer you can't placate, a fight you can't break up; sanji would never admit it, but you'd save him from one too many brawls with just a single simper.

it was easy to hold that over his head, but for some reason, sanji never let it keep him from completely wrecking your social life.

to say sanji is protective of you is the understatement of the century; you'd be the first to attest to that.

it was growing to be annoying and just plain inconvenient, if you're being honest.

was it too much to ask for some time to yourself... with the company of a horny teenage boy... in your quarters... alone?

"sanji!" you hissed, face bright red as your brother dragged you and this young sailor boy--you hadn't caught his name--out of a broom cupboard, his grip on the boy's collar deathly. throwing the boy aside, sanji stormed back up to him. "did you touch my sister? you think you can just take advantage of her like tha'?" you ran your hands over your face and rushed to separate sanji, shaking in anger, from the boy, shaking in his boots. "stop! he wasn't takin' advantage of me, sanji. hell, i started it!" "y-yeah!" the sailor boy piped in, cowering behind you. "she was all over me and—" "shut up," you and sanji said in tandem, shooting the boy matching glares that sent the poor sailor darting for his crew's ship.

as the years dragged on, you and sanji couldn't deny that the idea of remaining on the baratie all your lives would be... well... sad.

you wanted more for yourselves—you specifically wanted to get sanji away from zeff's constant criticism, no matter how well–meaning it was.

but the years really were dragging, and could you ever really bare to leave the man you'd nearly called father on several occasions? could you leave the shit-hole restaurant that raised you in it's wooden arms?

probably not. you'd probably die washing dishes (snore) and burning water (whoops) and charming the pants off grumpy old men (yuck).

that is, it always seemed that way until a grand vessel with a goat for a masthead docked at the baratie.

the day had been it's usual level of boring, until two customers decided to have a little row which heated up with every word shot back at each other.

you, having a good track record, rushed forth to prevent the fight just itching to break out. but today was not your lucky day.

"gentlemen," you grinned. stepping between the two men, you held up your hands and settled each of them with batted eyes and a soft expression. "what's this about, hmm?" sanji loitered at a nearby table, refilling drinks with one eye on you. he was ripely kicked out of the kitchen, snug in his waiter's jacket. one of them huffed, "he's at my table!" "i don't see your name on it!" the other snapped. your patience wanned, your thoughts screaming man-child. "i'm sure we can work something out. just please, don't start anything in the restaurant." the first man seemed to consider you, his eyes dragging up and down your form, but any progress you might have made was destroyed by the next second. "i ain't movin', girl. he can go shit 'imself in the corner." that was how you winded up directly between them, your hands pushing against either chest to keep them separated, your heartrate accelerating as they pressed in on you as if you weren't even there. grunting, you called out, "brother?" in seconds, sanji had a grip on your sleeve in one hand and a fistful of the first man's collar in the other. he jerked you away from them and swiftly shoved the men away from each other. "sister," he said in turn, cracking his neck as the men continued to not learn their lesson. "take these rolls to table four, yeah?" you didn't need to be told twice, swiping the tray of bread from his arm and beelining for a booth housing a motley crew of people. behind you, grunts and winces and crashing could be heard, followed by the thick silence of your brother's victory. you set the tray down on the table, shooting a tight lipped smile up at the guests. a boy wearing a peculiar straw hat locked you in place with his bright eyes and wondered aloud, "he's a great fighter." "yep," you quipped. "a real hero. any drinks for the handsome crew?"

it turned out the boy with the straw hat was crazy: he intended to become king of the pirates.

you admired his tenacity, of course, but really? he had a death wish.

still, the more you spoke to luffy and the more you observed his character, being king of the pirates didn't seem so crazy. he had guts, that was for sure.

as crazy as it sounded, you started to believe he could do it.

so it was really no surprise you said yes when luffy asked you to join his crew.

he had already asked sanji the day before—before luffy's swordsman friend got obliterated by a warlord of the sea.

you didn't know him, but when you rushed onto the going merry after zeff an sanji, and you saw the bloodied man lying there, you could barely move a muscle.

you were never good around the air of death, and it was all around roronoa zoro, lingering like a knock you expected but never came. so you couldn't move, not even when they moved zoro to a bed, out of sight. not when zeff and sanji retreated back to the baratie.

you snapped back to life at the sound of luffy's voice, finding him leaning down to be directly eye level with you. he was still speaking, and it felt sort of like being under water, till finally, you surfaced. "sorry what?" "are you okay?" he asked, brows knit. you pondered your response while looking anywhere but his face. "yeah, sorry. i... i don't like feeling helpless, i guess." you vaguely gestured to where zoro's limp body had laid upon the nearby table. "being out of control makes me wig out." luffy tilted his head. "why're you out of control?" "because," you nearly laughed. "your friend is dying." immediately, you regretted your word choice, hating how the light fizzled from his eyes. "he's not dying," luffy snapped back. "he was injured and now he's healing. why does everyone insist he's dying?" you shuffled on your feet. "right, sorry." when you met his eyes again, there wasn't any frustration like you assumed there would be. instead, he settled you with a curious look. "you don't have to keep apologizing." luffy was an odd type of pirate, you thought with a forced little grin. "then how will people know i'm sorry?" he smiled. "fair point." taking a hold of your sleeve, luffy started to drag you deeper into the going merry, leading you right to where zoro was laid. his grip on you loosened as he passed into the room, but you stayed cemented in the doorway. nami was there, sullen looking. you watched as nami berated luffy and stormed away, shoulder checking you on the way out, leaving luffy smileless. that didn't sit well with you. walking up beside him, you took a kneel just as he did, and turned your eyes on zoro's pallid face. "hello," you murmured. silence was your reply. "i'm y/n. you don't know me... your friends care a lot about you. it'd be... sad, if you died." luffy stiffened at your side. "which you won't! i've heard of you. no way the demon pirate hunter will let—let a scratch get him..." as your rambling died down, luffy slowly shifted to look at you, all serious for a moment. unnerved, you chuckled nervously. "what?" a tiny grin worked its way onto his lips, a glimmer in his eyes. "will you join my crew?" you nearly laughed. "luffy, you don't want me." "yeah. i do. why else would i ask?" "i'm useless." "you're kind," he said, shutting you up as a flush bloomed in your cheeks. "not everyone can say that."

a long story short, you joined luffy's crew of strawhats right along sanji.

your parting from the baratie had been watery, to say the least. whilst sanji shouted curses at zeff and stormed out to luffy's ship, you stood shaky as zeff huffed, his eyes roaming toward you.

you very nearly tripped head over foot in your sprint to wrap him in a hug. he was the only father you'd ever had, really. leaving him was bittersweet.

the going merry was a very nice place to call home, in your opinion.

you were a jack of all trades amidst the crew, choosing to do odd jobs around the ship. most days, you found yourself asking around with a little list in your journal, taking note of everyone’s grocery needs and even keeping track of the ship’s supply inventory.

not only that, but you found your crewmates tended to lack the sense to take care of themselves in a timely manner. 

that is, none of them could be faster than your attentive eye, and no one was safe from your protective inclinations.

nami was attentive, but she tended to disassociate, and when she did it was very hard to get her back. she would go on for hours, working herself to the brink of exhaustion, not accepting even a sip of water. (she couldn't stop you, however, from forcing a cup of ice water down her throat. even she was intimidated by your determination to hydrate her).

then there was zoro, who absolutely refused to allow anyone to help him dress his wounds; and since he wasn't the best at it, you often stared at his haphazard bandages with fear of infection. he brushed you off enough times to invoke your wrath upon him. (zoro quit refusing after the first three times you ambushed him, wrapping your arm around his neck and blocking his airway).

you always listened to usopp's stories, but oftentimes you grew tired of the repetitive and clearly fake tall tales. you wanted to know his real stories, and you told him so. he'd laughed awkwardly and replied that he wasn't interesting enough for that. (he was fairly surprised at your insistence, and was warmed at your fascination with the silly story of how he met kaya).

luffy, your captain, was a walking migraine most days. he was smart, but just as brave, and jumped to action faster than you could process. it left you stressed beyond what you could handle, and this alone was enough to make luffy more cautious. (he never wanted to make you unhappy, so you'd inadvertently given him some of your common sense).

finally, sanji, who you'd been dealing with all your life. you knew all his tells, whether it was baking macarons when he was upset or going eerily silent for far too long. you always knew what he needed, and when he needed it. (more often than not all he needed was a compliment, and not just from some doe–eyed woman at a bar; a word of sentiment from his baby sister could drag him out of any stupor).

overtime, the crew took to calling you their boatswain. after all, you fit the job description, and you took the title with pride.

as time flew by with the strawhats, you began to listen to the dreams and aspirations of the others, and began to wonder what exactly you wanted out of life. the all blue was sanji’s dream… so what was yours?

the going merry was docked at a friendly port for the next few days, meaning the crew was free to explore and roam the city as they pleased. you, however, remained behind that very first night.

as far as you knew, the others had decided upon a bar for the night’s celebration. The quiet dwelling over the ship was calming, and from your sweat crisscrossed on the afterdeck you had a wide view of the stars. 

your notebook rested on your belly, pen tight between your fingers, thoughts moving a million miles an hour. there hadn’t been time to get shopping done that day, so you would rouse the ship early the next morning and assign them to fetch groceries in pairs of two—just to be safe. 

and though the heavy thinking could wait till the morning, you were stuck in a spiral of inventory and lists. it was… exhausting, and offered little to no fulfillment. still, it was what you did to help. 

A familiar patter of boots broke your reverie, and you peeked up to find sanji coming to loom over you, his hands shoved in his pockets. his suit jacket was draped over one shoulder and his hair was a mess—he wasn’t drunk though, which was a very good sign.

silently, he disposed of his jacket and laid down beside you, resting his hands behind his head. for a split second, you got a glimpse of the damn rock imbeedded in your memory for all time, and how sanji used to make up stories about the stars.

since then, you’d come to know their true stories. you knew every constellation by name, having memorized them upon the baratie and spoken to them every lonely night. the stars had been your friends in your youth, and though your conversations with them were few and far between now, they always shined for you. so as far as you knew, you were never alone.

sanji raised an arm and pointed in a random direction. “bet you can’t name that one.”

a grin worked its way up your face. “how much?”

he turned his head, eyes boring into you. “if you can’t, you tell me what’s on your mind.”

“that’s hardly fair.”

“take it or leave it.”

you huffed, but complied, glaring up at the sky. “cassiopeia. cursed to remain in the stars for claiming her daughter was more beautiful than the nerieds.” you kissed your teeth. “hardly a punishment. i’d love to be in the stars.”

there was a weight behind your words; a truth so deep you had to take a long breath to recover. wetting your lips, you asked your brother, “do you think, someday, i could study them?”

“why someday?”

“well, you need supplies. tools. there’s only so much our eyes can tell from down here.”

“tools,” he murmured. “so, you want to study the stars?”

the words flooded from your lips. “i want to know everything about them. i want to know why they shine, how far they are, what’s beyond them… can we get there?” you sighed into a smile. “there are some cities that have observatories dedicated to astronomy, but you’ve got to be some kind of noble scholar to get in.”

sanji listened, and he listened well. He laid by your side and listened to you tell him about the stars till nami and zoro came lugging a drunk usopp between them, luffy taking the lead. he remained in thought for most of the night, and sought out nami to ask about expenditures, and then set out to find luffy. 

it was safe to say you weren’t quite as upset at sanji and luffy for disappearing all evening when they returned at sunset, some beri short, with a gift in hand.

you stood slack jawed as they revealed a beautiful telescope, the metal polished and bright and shining. how they had managed to sneak it past you and set it up on the afterdeck was beyond you, but you hardly cared to ask.

you threw your arms around your brother, whispering your thank yous, and quickly turned to tackle your captain in a hug just as tight. the night to follow was marked by your awed sighs and the excited way you told the crew about ursa major and ursa minor, then about castor and pollux, and so on till you could barely keep your eyes open.

and sanji would never say it out loud, but he admired you. you turned out pretty damn good despite having him as your big brother. someday, you’d reach the stars. he knew that for certain. he could only hope you’d come visit once or twice.

“g’night,” he muttered to the crew as he stood, making his way over to where you’d drifted off against a barrel. he scooped you up in his arms and was veyr careful to not wake you as he made his way to your and nami’s quarters. 

sanji rested you down and moved to take off your boots and pull the blanket over you, and he found himself frozen all of a sudden. lips pursed, he patted your hair, and turned to go. at the door, he paused and looked back. you slept so soundly for once, something he was so very glad for. he wasn’t blind to how you’d been overworking yourself.

perhaps he would talk to you about that in the morning, but for now, he simply smiled. “good night, sister. love you.”

and whispered back to him, just in time for him to hear: “g’night, sanj. i love you.”

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

Just here to beg for a crumb-- just a little blurb about Marcus as a new dad? All those swimming lessons would have paid off before long, right?

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 1.7k | Proof read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN | Under a False Alter

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), Birth, insecurity, vulnerability, fluffy romance vibes with a hint of the reality of parenthood

A/n : Sorry this took a second but i hope you enjoy

"MOTHERFUCKER!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the chamber as you clung to Marcus' arms, your grip iron-tight. Midwives swarmed around you, their practiced hands moving swiftly, their voices a blend of soothing reassurances and urgent instructions.

"It'll be alright, love," Marcus murmured, his voice steady despite the worry etched across his face. He wiped the sweat from your brow, his touch tender. "You're the strongest person I know."

"Strongest person you know?" you snapped, glaring at him through the pain. "If you had just kept your hands to yourself, we wouldn't be in this mess, Marcus!"

Marcus chuckled softly, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "I recall you being quite persuasive that night."

"Don't you dare put this on me!" you retorted, another contraction making you wince. "If you had any self-control, I wouldn't be screaming my head off right now!"

"Almost there," the head midwife announced, her voice cutting through the haze of pain. "I can see the head."

Marcus looked at you, his eyes shining with pride and awe. "Just a little more, darling. You're so close."

"Close to killing you," you muttered, though your grip on his hand tightened, drawing strength from his presence.

With a final, primal scream, you pushed with all your might. The room seemed to hold its breath as the midwives sprang into action. And then, a new sound filled the air—the cries of your newborn son.

Tears streamed down your face as the midwife placed the tiny, wriggling bundle in your arms. You looked down at him, your heart swelling with a love so fierce it took your breath away. Marcus leaned in, his arm around your shoulders, his eyes filled with wonder as he gazed at his son.

"He's perfect," Marcus whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You did it."

"We did it," you corrected, meeting his gaze. "And you owe me a lifetime of back massages and foot rubs for this."

Marcus laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Deal. And I'll start by being the best father I can be."

As you held your son close, feeling the warmth of his tiny body against your chest, you knew that whatever the future held, you and Marcus would face it together. This was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with hope, love, and endless possibilities.

The midwives busied themselves around you, cleaning up and murmuring congratulations. You glanced at Marcus, who was still watching you with that same awestruck expression.

"Stop looking at me like that," you teased, though there was no heat in your words. "I look like I've been through a war."

"A beautiful war," Marcus said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "And you, my love, are a warrior."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you replied, though you couldn't suppress a smile. "But I suppose I can let you off the hook. Just this once."

"How generous of you," Marcus said with a grin, leaning in to kiss you. "I love you."

"And I love you," you whispered, feeling a deep contentment settle over you. "Even if you did get us into this mess."

"Well, it's a beautiful mess," he said, looking down at your son. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

"Marcus, you can't hold him like that," you said, trying to suppress a laugh as you watched him awkwardly maneuver the tiny, squirming baby in his arms. Your son wriggled, his small fists waving in the air, clearly unimpressed with his father's attempt.

"I'm trying!" Marcus replied, a mix of frustration and amusement in his voice. "He's just so slippery."

You stepped in, gently guiding Marcus' hands to support the baby's head and body correctly. "There, like this. See? He's not that hard to handle."

"Easy for you to say," Marcus muttered, though a smile tugged at his lips. "You've always had a way with handling difficult creatures."

"Are you calling our son a creature?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Only the cutest one I've ever seen," Marcus said, his eyes softening as he looked down at the baby. "Alright, little man, let's get you clean."

You carefully poured warm water over your son's tiny body, making sure the temperature was just right. The baby let out a small, surprised squeak, his eyes widening at the sensation. Marcus chuckled, his large hands gentle as he helped you wash the baby’s delicate skin.

"He's not so bad once you get the hang of it," Marcus said, his voice filled with wonder. "Look at him. He's so small, but so perfect."

"Just like his father," you teased, running a soft cloth over the baby's head.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling. "You think I'm perfect?"

"In your dreams," you replied, but there was no denying the affection in your tone.

As you continued the bath, Marcus took over washing the baby's tiny feet, his fingers incredibly gentle. "These little toes," he mused, "I can't believe something so small can be so perfect."

"Careful, Marcus," you warned with a laugh. "You're turning into a sentimental sap."

"Too late," he admitted, looking at you with a smile that made your heart melt. "This little guy has completely undone me."

The days and nights blurred together as you adjusted to the whirlwind of new parenthood. There were moments of sheer joy and wonder as you watched your son grow and change, his tiny features becoming more defined with each passing day. But there were also moments of exhaustion and doubt, when the weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Your pregnancy had been a mix of excitement and anxiety, each milestone bringing a new set of emotions. Now, holding your baby in your arms, you felt an intense love that was both beautiful and terrifying.

You marveled at his tiny hands and the way his fingers would curl around yours, his innocent eyes gazing up at you with trust. Those were the moments that made everything worth it, when the world seemed to stand still and all that mattered was the bond between you and your son. But there were also nights when he would cry inconsolably, and no amount of rocking or soothing seemed to help.

One particularly long night, as the baby cried relentlessly, you found yourself on the brink of tears. The exhaustion was bone-deep, and the frustration of not being able to calm him gnawed at you. "Why won't he stop crying?" you whispered, your voice trembling with fatigue and despair. You rocked him gently, trying every trick you knew, but nothing seemed to work.

Marcus appeared in the doorway, his hair tousled from sleep, his eyes instantly alert with concern. He had been your rock throughout the pregnancy and now, in the chaos of new parenthood, his support was unwavering. "Hey, hey," he said softly, crossing the room to you. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I feel like I'm doing everything wrong. I can't even calm my own baby."

Marcus took the baby from your arms with practiced ease, his strong hands cradling the tiny body. He began to hum a gentle tune, swaying back and forth as he did. Almost immediately, the baby's cries began to quiet, his small body relaxing against Marcus' chest. Watching them, a mix of relief and sadness washed over you. Relief that your baby was finally calm, and sadness that you couldn't seem to provide the same comfort.

"See?" Marcus murmured, looking at you with a reassuring smile. "Sometimes, he just needs a change of scenery."

You sank into a nearby chair, the tears finally spilling over. "I feel like such a failure," you confessed. "I love him so much, but I can't seem to get anything right."

"You're not a failure," Marcus said firmly, kneeling beside you, still holding the now calm baby. "You're an amazing mother. This is hard—it's supposed to be hard. But we're doing it together, remember?"

You nodded, wiping your tears away. The weight of his words began to soothe the ache in your chest. "I just... I want to be perfect for him."

"And you are," Marcus insisted. "Look at him. He's healthy, he's loved, and he's got the best mom in the world."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you reached out to touch your son's cheek. His skin was soft and warm, and you felt a rush of love so powerful it almost hurt. "I guess I just need to take it one day at a time."

"Exactly," Marcus agreed, standing up and offering you a hand. "Now, let's get you both back to bed. I'll take the next shift."

You allowed Marcus to help you up, feeling the fatigue in your bones but also a renewed sense of hope. The journey of parenthood was far from easy, but with Marcus by your side, you knew you could face the challenges ahead.

“He’s growing up so fast,” you whispered, a bittersweet ache in your voice as you took in the sight of your little boy, so full of life and promise.

Marcus nodded, his voice a gentle balm. “He is. But look at him—strong and happy. We’ve done well, haven’t we?”

You leaned back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his presence. “It’s been an incredible year,” you agreed softly.

Marcus pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, a playful glint lighting up his eyes. “How about we make this weekend even more special? A trip to the sea, just the two of us.”

You turned to face him, excitement mingling with a hint of anxiety. “But what about our son? I don’t want to leave him.”

“Don’t worry,” Marcus reassured you, his voice soothing. “I’ve spoken with your mother. She’s thrilled to have him for the weekend. We’ll be close by if anything happens.”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered his words. The thought of time alone with Marcus was enticing. “It would be nice to spend time together,” you admitted.

Marcus smiled, the warmth in his eyes making your heart flutter. “We deserve a little break. And perhaps… we could start thinking about giving him a little brother or sister.”

[russellsppttemplates]

Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)

Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.

"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.

"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.

"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.

You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".

"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.

"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.

"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.

Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.

"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.

"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.

He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills

Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?

If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!

We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!

He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance

Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?

"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.

"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.

.

"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.

Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.

The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.

Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.

Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.

"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.

"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.

"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".

Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.

"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.

"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.

"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.

"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.

Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.

"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.

.

"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.

"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.

"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.

"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.

Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.

"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.

.

"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.

"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.

The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.

"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.

You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.

"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.

"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.

"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.

"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.

Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".

"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.

.

The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.

"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.

Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.

"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.

"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.

"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.

It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.

"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.

"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".

[lamour-est-pur]

(A/N) Bonjour! I'm going to be trying to post almost everyday, I have already written a few pieces that will be posted later this week❤ *my first language is not English please have patients*

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═

Shanks X Reader

Reader has a nightmare about shanks and goes to him for comfort

Genre-> Fluff/comfort

Warnings-> nightmare, death?, use of Y/N,

Word count-> 3482

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═

The scent of sea salt and aged rum hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort usually. But tonight, it did little to quell the cold sweat prickling your skin. You jolted awake, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. The nightmare, a vivid tapestry of roaring cannons and Shanks crumpling to the deck, clung to you like a shroud.

Unable to shake the terror, you threw off the thin blanket and padded out of your cabin. The gentle rocking of the ship did little to rock you back to sleep. Your bare feet found their way down the familiar wooden halls, guided by an unseen beacon towards Shanks' quarters.

You hesitated before raising a shaky hand to knock. The sound echoed hollowly in the quiet. Before you could change your mind, the door swung open, revealing a shirtless Shanks in all his red-haired glory.

"Everything alright, (Y/n)?" His voice, usually booming with laughter, was uncharacteristically soft. Concern etched lines on his normally carefree face.

You couldn't speak, tears welling up in your eyes. Shame burned in your throat, but the need for comfort outweighed it. In a gesture that surprised even you, you reached out and clung to his shirt.

Shanks' surprise melted into understanding. He pulled you into a one-armed embrace, his grip strong and reassuring. "Just a bad dream, huh?"

You nodded, burying your face in his chest. The scent of sea salt and something deeper, a scent uniquely Shanks, grounded you.

"Shanks," you managed, voice thick with emotion, "I… I dreamt you died."

He let out a hearty laugh that rumbled through his chest, the sound vibrating against your ear. "Hey, what'd I tell you about those marines messing with your head? Red-Haired Shanks wont go down so easily."

He pulled back, but only enough to see your tear-stained face. His laughter softened into a smile. "Want to chase those nightmares away?"

You nodded softly, not trusting yourself to speak.

Shanks led you inside the dimly lit cabin, tossing a spare shirt on the rumpled bed. You slipped into it, the worn cotton smelling faintly of him. He gestured to the bed and you crawled in, the cool sheets a stark contrast to his warm body when he settled beside you.

He wrapped his arm around you, drawing you close. The familiar warmth seeped into your bones, chasing away the lingering chill of the nightmare. His thumb brushed away a stray tear that clung to your cheek.

"There, there," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You're safe here, (Y/n). I'll always be here to protect you, I'm not going anywhere."

Silence settled between you, punctuated only by the rhythmic creaking of the ship and the steady beat of his heart. As sleep finally claimed you, the image of Shanks, strong and alive, replaced the nightmare in your mind. You knew, with a certainty that warmed you from the inside out, that as long as he was by your side, no dream, no matter how terrifying, could touch you.

 When you woke, sunlight streamed through the cabin window, casting a warm glow across Shanks' face. He slept soundly, a faint smile playing on his lips. You watched him, an unfamiliar possessiveness blooming in your chest. The dream, though terrifying, had shown you just how precious his presence was.

You traced the scar that ran across his left eye, a constant reminder of his past battles. A pang of fear stabbed at you – what if the nightmare hadn't been entirely unfounded? What if one day, his reckless adventures caught up with him?

Shanks stirred, sensing your gaze. He blinked open his eyes, the warm brown sending a familiar flutter to your stomach. He grinned, that lazy, lopsided grin that always made your heart skip a beat.

"Didn't dream about me dying again, did you?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Shame washed over you, but you couldn't lie. You shook your head, the memory still raw.

His smile softened. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "Hey," he said, his voice low and serious. "Nightmares are just that – dreams. I'm not going anywhere, (Y/n). Not unless you chase me away, that is."

His playful words brought a reluctant smile to your face. "Maybe I will," you countered, a playful glint in your eyes.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "Good luck”.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═

Thank you for reading❤ REQUEST ARE OPEN please give me your ideas, I write for the one piece characters (Fluff, angst, comfort, smut) once again I do have post lined up that will be going up this week ❤ so please enjoy❤

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═

[tinybeetiny]

Too Much: J.Y

YunhoxReader

Angst

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

You don't know where everything went wrong but the shift was very noticeable, everyone saw it except him. It started off with little things like taking hours even days to respond to your messages, but he's busy so you tried not to worry too much about it. Soon it turned into feeling alone even when you're with him, you can count the amount of times he spoken to you in the past few weeks on one hand. You don't even remember the last time you guys went on an actual date, you seem to hang out with San more than your actual boyfriend.

Hearing the front door open you look over seeing a tired Yunho walking in. He doesn't even look your way as he takes his shoes off and heads to his room "hey YuYu! How was your day?" You ask trying to see if he actually wants to converse today. He shrugs and continues walking. You sighed "I wish you would actually talk to me Yunho, I've barely talked to you in weeks, I know you're busy but it feels like I'm not important to you anymore" you say trying to get him to at least look at you.

You hear him huff out in frustration, finally turning towards you "Why do you always have to freak out about this stuff, I'm busy and you knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating me" he said sounding drained. "I know YuYu but I just miss you a lot and I just want to spend a couple minutes with you" you didn't like to beg but you didn’t know what else to do "you see me everyday I don't know what more you want from me" Yunho started to walk towards his room not wanting to talk about this anymore. Frustrated tears started to form in your eyes. Feeling defeated you sit back down on the couch, dropping the subject to appease him.

When Yunho got to his room he started feeling guilty, he didn't mean to make to come off the way he did. He had a horrible day in the studio but he didn't want to drag you into everything, he knows you just want to help and spend time with him which makes him feel even worse but he can't explain it. He loves you a lot, he just feels like he has too much going on. After changing and showering he decided to sleep it off, maybe then he'd feel better and you guys could go to this new gimbap shop he saw on the way home.

Jongho was the next to come home. Seeing you sitting on the couch alone, he already knew. Even though he was younger than you he always seemed much more mature and he always had such great advice. After removing his shoes he accompanied you. "You know we all care about you and we would be devastated to see you leave but you have to do what makes you happy. I know he loves you and he does have a lot going on but I'll understand if you don't want to continue" he said giving you a small smile before standing and walking off to his room.

You were left by yourself again and in the silence. For awhile you had gotten used to it seeing as that's all you get from Yunho but eventually even the silence became too much. Making the hardest decisions you thought you'd ever have to make, you couldn't stop the tears from streaming as your wrote your heart out. You didn't have the courage to tell him face to face so after carefully gathering the things you had left over the months you placed the note on his nightstand for him to see when he woke up. Tiptoeing through the apartment hoping you didn't draw attention to yourself but right as you went to open the front door Mingi walked in. Noticing the bags your hand he sighed with knowing eyes.

To my YuYu,

From the moment I met you I knew you were the one for me. You were everything I was looking for,for years. You know everything about me and I thought I knew you. You were my best friend, my whole world but recently it felt like I've been having to beg for your attention and when I get it we always argue. I can't continue putting myself through this, I love you more than words will ever express but for the sake of both of us I need to let you go. I will treasure every memory we made and every minute we spent together. I pray you find someone who you'll love the way I love you. I will always support you but I just cannot be with you. I will miss the guys so much, they grew to be the brothers I never had. Thank you for everything, I will forever cherish you.

-(Y/N)

please understand this is not how I think Yunho is in real life. I literally love him so much he's such a sunshine boy and I think that's why I chose him for this because it just seems like something out of character I guess 🥲🥲 I'm sorry if this feels incomplete I know I kept this kind of... not open ended but if you want a couple different endings let me know!!! I've been feeling bleh recently and it gave me the much needed cry I've been waiting for. If you all are ever needed someone to talk to I'm always here, please remember that ❤️

[paper-mario-wiki]

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

[hotheadedhero]

Turtles x Ballerina

A/N: Written with the Bayverse boys in mind. A cute little fluff thing with our turtles dating a ballerina reader.

Leonardo

Ballet is such a beautiful art form in his eyes, especially when you dance it. The way you move like the running water of a stream has him infatuated. Your devotion and knowing that you've been doing this from such a young age is amazing - drawing similar parallels to how he is with his Ninjistu. Because of this, you have a mutual understanding of your needs to take time for practice. How else will you both amount to the best of your abilities?

When you do get time for one another, more often than not you still find ways of practising in each other's presence. Leo isn't often easily distracted but you somehow find a way of holding his attention when you rehearse. He just can't find it in himself to look away when your body straightens out into a perfect arabesque.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on your own regime?" you ask through a grin, barely even looking in his direction.

All he can do is smile fondly as he returns to focusing on his forms. The only thing that can detour him from his training is you and he holds no shame in admitting it either.

Raphael

It's such a juxtaposition to how he is as a person. Raphael has always hated the way his family would call him aggressive, a brute who needs to reign in it, but those words ring true in his mind when he watches you dance. You are absolutely stunning - a porcelain ballerina inside a music box. How could someone as elegant and delicate as yourself possibly be with someone like him?

At the start of your relationship, he'd always fear that he'd somehow hurt you with just a simple touch of his fingers. Even after all this time, he still catches himself making a conscious effort to be more careful when you're in his arms. He just doesn't want to run the risk of hurting his precious ballerina. The way you hold yourself with such grandeur couldn't be more opposite to his stature.

So it's a surprise when you watch him sparring with his brothers and say, "You move so effortlessly! That was amazing."

It takes him for a spin but serves as a heartfelt reminder that deep down he isn't as barbaric as everyone else claims him to be. When it comes to you, anyway.

Donatello

He would probably find a way to think about your movements geometrically. The way you can thoughtlessly angle your arms and legs at such perfect angles is fascinating to him. Don't even get him started on the gentle momentum of your pirouette: it's as though you're in a state of inertia, only being forced to move by the tame tug of a magnet.

Much like Leo, he is just in awe of your movements. Dancing isn't much his thing, however, so he feels a little out of his depth when you want to dance with him. He's a thinker, a builder, a fighter; the only thing his hands and body are good for is inventing and taking down criminals. When you start playing the music, his mind trips over the basic forms you've tried to teach him through word of mouth, instead getting lost in the ways he could mess it up.

"Just turn that brain off for a moment," you say, wearing that sweet smile he loves as you hold his hands. "Keep your eyes on me, okay? I'll lead."

Admittedly, it's a clumsy display on his end but you two have fun, nonetheless. He also gains a new appreciation for what you do in that moment.

Michelangelo

This guy loves music, especially of the upbeat genres, so it's different to see what you dance to. That doesn't mean to say he doesn't like it though. Although it's a little slow-paced for his usual taste, he still loves it. He would probably try and teach you some of his moves and you would do the same for him. It's not a discredit to his abilities but he definitely struggles to replicate whatever it is you attempt to teach him.

Somehow, you find a way to integrate the fast-moving music with your graceful flow. The assumably opposing styles of dance turn out to work in perfect tandem with one another and it's actually pretty kick-ass! Not to mention, it's a good time when you try to implement each other's techniques in the little dancing sessions you often engage in. This is usually in the kitchen when you guys are cooking together with some tunes in the background.

"This kind of reminds me of that one movie," you muse. "I think it's called 'Save the Last Dance' or something."

Sure enough, you add it to one of your movie nights to watch together. None of the dancers in it have anything on you though.

[peacheeeliz]

011. hurry up we're hungry (1k wc)

“Thank you all for joining today, and I hope you enjoyed the stream!” You speak towards your camera, waving goodbye to chat with a sweet smile. “See you guys on Wednesday for the fourth session of empires!”

You say a few more goodbyes before you finally shut down the stream, letting out a sigh. Playing with Yuyu went great, and you had a lot more fun than you thought you would. But after streaming for about five hours with him, you were ready to hit the sack and sleep until noon tomorrow. You're about to just walk away from your desk completely before a deep chuckle brings you from your sleep-filled thoughts.

“Feeling tired?” He questions. You totally forgot you were still on call with him, as he kept quiet while you did your outro.

“Yeah, a little,” you answer, laughing softly. “But, knowing me, I'll probably just be lying in my bed for hours, scrolling through TikTok.”

He lets out another laugh at that comment, “same, not gonna lie.”

You smile softly at his laughter, leaning back in your chair. “If you're not in any rush to head to bed,” you start, playing with the wire of your headphones. “Would you mind maybe chatting for a bit?” He falls silent for a bit, and you continue before he has a chance to answer. “Just because it feels like we don't know each other that well, is all. Want you to feel more comfortable with me, despite the whole war going on and stuff.”

“I'd love to,” he responds, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice. “I don't really know anyone on the server that well, to be honest, so I kinda needed this.”

“Not even Yeonjun?” You ask, hearing a quiet ‘nuh-uh’ as your answer. “I'm surprised seeing as he invited you to join the smp.”

“I think it's just because I'm another popular streamer, honestly,” Yuyu answers truthfully, and you hear the shuffle of his shoulders shrugging.

“But you're not just any other popular streamer. You're obviously more than that,” you tell him, a small frown forming on your lips. “How did you even start streaming? You started just over a year ago, right?”

“Yeah, July last year,” he tells her, finally smiling as he reminisces about that time. “I always played Valorant, you know, it's been my favorite game ever since it came out. So, when my friend suggested streaming in my downtime, it actually sounded really interesting.”

“You don't stream all that often, though,” you note. “You must not have a lot of downtime?”

He lets out a pained laugh at that, “you got that right. My job is pretty demanding,” he pauses for a moment. “But, I really enjoy it. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.”

You smile at that, “that's really sweet.”

“I mean, that's how you feel about streaming, no?” He questions. “That's what I'm assuming, anyway. You stream a lot more than me, and it seems like you really enjoy doing it.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” you respond with a small nod, despite the fact that he can't see it. “God, I've been streaming for so long. It's not really a job for me anymore. You know? Like I can just hop on stream, play silly games with my friends, and it keeps me stable on top of all of that. It's crazy to see how far I've come and how far we've all come.”

“Yeah, you started way back when, huh?” He jokes, laughing through his nose. “Six years ago, right? Sorry, I have a friend who's a big fan, so I know a lot more than it might seem.”

“Aww, you do?” You tease, leaning forward once again to rest your chin on your hand. “I'd love to meet him one day.”

“Trust me, you do not,” he warns. “He's already threatened to crash my stream today. Almost disowned me after I killed you during the first empires session.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “that's cute. Come on, it won't be that bad if we just talk for a bit, you tell him, drawing out a couple of words.

He shakes his head lightly, “I'll think about it, alright? But I really don't think you two will be a good duo,” he starts, hearing your exaggerated gasp through his headphones. “He's crazy, and you're…. also crazy.”

“Wooow,” you exclaim, letting out a pained laugh. “Says the one who just blew me up the other day.”

“Hey, hey, that,” he pauses, chuckling. “That was an accident. I really did think Soobin was going to walk in first.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry for foiling your plans by walking into my building first,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Thank you for rebuilding it, though. Very sweet of you,” you tease, smiling softly.

You can just tell he's rolling his eyes in response, “it was the right thing to do, after killing you what? Three times now?”

“Even more if you count the Among Us stream,” you comment, giggling.

“Damn, I owe you big time, don't I?” He replies, sighing. “I'll make it up to you whenever you ask.”

Before you can respond, you hear a muffled voice coming from your headphones. Yuyu gives a quick ‘sorry,’ before responding to who you assume is his roommate. You sit there quietly, trying your best not to listen in or interrupt the two.

“Sorry, forgot I had plans with a few of my friends after the stream,” he comes back to you, frowning that your time together was cut short.

“No, it's all good, don't worry,” you tell him. “Go hang out with your friends, have fun.”

“Thanks for understanding,” he says, smiling. He hesitates, but doesn’t forget to tell you: “We should, uhm, do this again sometime. It was nice.”

You smile as well, “we should. I'm here whenever, alright?” You respond. “Well, unless Sungchan pulls me away. He gets a little jealous when others get more attention than him.” His deep chuckle rings through your ears again. “Talk to you later, Yuyu.”

“Yeah, talk to you later, Y/N,” he replies, waiting until you leave the call to finally close out of the app. He leans back in his chair again, smiling to himself.

synopsis ⤏ you're trying to peacefully build your starter house on the empires server when your neighbor so rudely (accidentally) kills you, starting the biggest war on the server just one day in.

prev / masterlist / next

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎalex with a girl who has anxiety⋆౨ৎ fem reader x alex nilsen

Tossing your keys into the repurposed ashtray, you hung your purse on the wall hook, slipping shoes off as quietly as possible. It all felt robotic, almost like it was someone else performing these actions. That was always how it felt after doctor's appointments, no matter the type. You had just come from a checkup and your heart was pounding Morse code into your chest that you didn't at all want to translate.

Running a tired hand over your face, you wandered down the hallway, happening on Alex on the living room couch, squinting at his laptop. He'd changed out of what he'd worn to school this morning, now in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Upon hearing you, he lifted his eyes from the screen. "Hi baby. I called you, are you-?" Noticing the look on your face, he cut himself off.

Biting the side of your cheek, you shifted on your feet, feeling the color flood your cheeks. Even though he'd assured you a million times that your worrying wasn't something to be embarrassed about, you still felt the twinges of it every time.

Setting his laptop on the coffee table, Alex frowned, reaching out for you. "C'mere. Did everything go okay?"

You flew into his arms, burrowing into his chest. He let out a quiet oomph when you landed unexpectedly on him, but adjusted, rubbing your back. "What happened? Is everything good?"

"Yeah," you murmured muffled into him. "I just...going makes me feel icky."

"Gotcha," Alex said, stroking your hair and letting his hand trail down to your back, rubbing it lightly. He was quiet for a moment before saying, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head, and he pressed a kiss to your head. "That's okay. Do you wanna go change? I'll wait right here for you."

Nodding, you stood a little reluctantly, trying to keep your breathing steady. In a haze, you found your way to the bedroom and stripped your clothes away, replacing them with one of Alex's shirts, a soft one from so many times being washed.

He smiled when you reappeared, reaching a hand out. Now his feet were on the couch, legs parted lazily. The space between them was an invitation, and you accepted it. Alex settled you comfortably between his knees, back to his chest. He pressed a hand to your heart, and the firmness of it caused the poor thing to slow down. His presence sobered you from your panic, and you took in a deep breath, feeling like smoke had been cleared from your lungs.

Alex leaned his cheek against your head, letting the quiet stretch and curl around you like a cat. He waited a minute to speak, and when he did, it was a mumble. "My shirt's big on you, huh?"

"Mhm," you hummed, closing your eyes. This was heaven; being safe with him. It was cozy with your head resting on his chest, him half-slouched, half lying down with one hand on your chest, the other splayed on your belly.

"Do you wanna order in tonight?" he asked casually, drawing delicate circles into your hip.

"Yeah." You smiled finally. Even without talking about it, he knew what you needed. Food and cuddles were the best medicine to worrisome events for you, and he was always happy to provide them in tenfold.

Alex pulled out his phone, propping it on your stomach and looking up the name of your favorite restaurant with his chin on your head. He held the screen still while you tapped out your order, then added his share, kissing your head while pressing the confirm button. "Thirty minutes," he announced, even though you could see it.

You turned in his arms so that your stomachs were pressed together, snuggling right into him. Alex smiled fondly, smoothing your hair behind your shoulders. "That means thirty minutes of cuddles."

The peaceful feeling clouding your senses was becoming dormant, and you nodded into him. "And more after."

He'd reached over to his laptop without letting go of you, typing a streaming service into the search bar with one hand and pulling up one of your favorite movies. Burying his nose into your hair, he nudged his lips against it. "Lots more after."

[serotonins-stuff]

✩ ༄ Bakugo Katsuki

~ he can't help but miss you

♡︎Sypnosis: After leaving your place, your bf misses you so much that he can't help but think that he should've stayed. So he calls you. °`♡︎

༄.•°.•Warnings: Phone sex, mutual masturbation,♡︎

After leaving your apartment to go back to his place. Katsuki won't admit he misses you, no matter how many times he scrolls through the cute pictures of you on his phone or listens to the voice messages you've sent him. His pride would never let him admit it.

That is until he calls you at 2 in the morning, breathing heavily and whispering your name. Suspicious noises pouring out from his l lips.

Groggily you rubbed your eyes "Kastkui are you-"

"Missed you " he panted, head lolling backwards, and butterflies invading his stomach just from the sweet sound of your voice. You sounded so cute after waking up.

"What are you doing?" You asked innocently knowing exactly what he was up to on the other side.

"Couldn't stop thinking about your pretty face- shit" he gasped, palming himself through his underwear. He felt desperate to call you at such a late hour. What was he thinking?!.

The thrill turned him on even more and his dick twitched, a dark spot of precum beginning to form on the fabric he was being confined in.

He panicked internally waiting for your response, that was until he heard something from your end. It was your breathing which was also picking up slowly.

"Tell me more" you breathed, fondling your breasts tenderly.

"I wanted to stay-" he said, a soft pink appearing on his cheeks "All I wanted to do was throw you onto the bed and hah~have my way with you"

"Can-can I see you?" He hiccupped, freeing himself of his boxers and his cock sprung to life. Smacking his stomach in the process.

Without saying a word you hung up and called again, his sweaty face coming into view when he answered the Facetime.

"Fuck-" he cursed, looking into the screen to see you sprawled out for him on the bed, your fingers drawing fast circles around your clit through your underwear.

"Missed you too Kat" you gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you inserted 2 fingers. On your screen, you could see him pumping his cock, which was already glistening. He had a fairly fast pace going, occasionally pressing on his tip with his thumb.

"Just like that baby" he groaned "Just like that

Your hand slithered into your panties and soon you were touching yourself to the sound of your boyfriend. Moaning along with him, which drove him up the wall.

He positioned himself upright on his knees. Panting as he watched you work yourself closely. He matched your pace and began thrusting into his hand. His eyes rolled back from seeing your fingers shining with the juices from your swollen cunt.

In and out your worked your fingers, moaning louder with every second that passed by.

"Katsu~" you cooed "I'm close"

"Let's cum together yeah?" He panted to which you nodded fervently.

His hips stuttered and a thick stream of semen shot out of his cock and you screamed his name in pleasure as your orgasm shot through you. Sending forward a wave of pleasure you've never felt before.

You Weren't done yet. You needed more. You wanted him to fill you up and make you his.

"Sit tight," he breathed, almost as if he read your mind. You could hear shuffing from his side and when you looked at the screen he was already wearing his clothes. "I'll be there in ten"

This night was far from over.

-----

A/n

I am writing my final exams so there will, unfortunately, be slow updates. However I will try my best to upload at least once a week!

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[pedroshotwifey]

Hi! I have one request. Just a horny Joel Miller jacking off to porn. A solo session. That’s pretty much it 🫶

You got it, baby. Hope this is what you were looking for ;) If not, please feel free to send me another request or message and I'll fix it up for you!

Also gonna make a PSA here and say sorry that I still don't have updates for TTF or FB. I also want to apologize for not being super active lately. I promise I'm trying, I just have a lot going on right now. Love you all and hope you're doing well!

W/C: 1.1k

Tags/warnings: male masturbation, pornographic details, I mean c'mon it's pretty self explanatory

Stress Relief

It’s been an absolute shit show of a day. Wrong tile ordered after being on the waitlist for a week, two employees calling out, a customer changing their mind on the layout three fourths of the way through the project. Between it all, Joel didn’t get a single break. 

He’s tired, fed up, and ready to go home to an empty house. With Sarah gone to sleep over at a friend’s, he knows what he’ll be doing tonight. He’s pent-up as hell and there’s only one good release he can think about right now. Unfortunately, he’s been brewing on it the entire hour-long ride home. 

Thinking about the pull on his cock, his fist wrapped tightly around it. How good it’ll feel as he pushes all his thoughts away for the build-up. How the relief will take over him after he comes, exhaustion finally able to catch up to him and let him rest.

By the time he pulls into his driveway, he’s straining almost painfully against his jeans. And by the time he’s locked the door, he’s decided that anything else he needs to do tonight can wait. 

He shoves his coat off and drops it in the front fall before making his way to the living room. He doesn’t waste time turning on the light, instead bypassing the switch and scooping up his laptop to open on the coffee table in front of where he takes a seat on the couch. 

Shamelessly, he unbuckles his belt and opens a new tab. He clicks on the first video, not bothering to be picky. It begins to play, showing a man sitting on a couch, a woman coming up to him and sliding into his lap. Joel licks his lips and reaches for his cock about halfway before coming to a stop. His lube is sitting in the top drawer of his nightstand. 

And sure, he doesn’t need it, but god would it be so much better if he did. He decides to just get up and get it, stomping through the house into his bedroom to retrieve it. 

By the time he’s back to the couch, the couple in the video are naked and grinding against each other. As he opens the bottle of lube and squirts it on his open palm, the man slides inside of the woman’s heat. He begins thrusting up into her as Joel frees his length from his boxers, his heavy balls resting outside of them. Even the cool air against him feels heavenly. 

“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans as he wraps his lube-slicked fist around his aching cock. His hips buck with the contact, thighs tensing in both relief and anticipation. Lewd moans stream from the speakers of his laptop, the exaggerated noise turning him on way more than it probably should. 

He can’t help it though, the way his dick twitches when he looks down at the screen just in time to see the couple in the video switching positions. The man grabs the woman roughly only to bend her over the arm of the couch and slam back into her. The camera comes in close to capture the way her body jolts with the force in which the man is thrusting into her stretched pussy. 

Joel grunts, his teeth gritting together as he squeezes his cock. His stomach clenches as he tries to control himself. She sounds so sweet, her little whimpers and pleads for more of her partner’s cock swirling around his lust-filled head. He resumes up and down motions on his cock, tugging furiously and focusing only on the way the smooth skin of him feels so good gliding against his lubricant. He wants to draw it out, but he knows he can’t. 

He closes his eyes and listens to the symphony, imagining it’s him pounding into her sweet pussy instead, him getting his frustrations out through her body. His cock making those squelching noises with each push in, his cock collecting a milky rim at the base as the girl writhes in pleasure around him. 

He licks his lips, chest and cheeks pinking as he gets lost in his own fantasy. He pictures himself using the side of the couch for leverage, thrusting fast and slamming as hard as he can against her to get her to scream out in ecstasy. He would wrap her hair in his fist to pull her soft, warm pussy onto his dick until he spills inside, filling her up to the brim. 

Joel begins to pant as he tugs harder, opening his eyes to see they’ve switched positions again. This time, the girl is laying flat with her back on the couch, the man in front of her with his tongue on her cunt. The man is holding her down by her thighs and stomach as she squirms in overstimulation, but she cries for more even as her body tries to get away. 

Joel wishes he could taste her on his own tongue. It’s been far too long since he was able to feast on a woman in such a way. Too long since he had anybody to get him off but himself. 

Suddenly, the girl starts to come, her moans getting louder and more high pitched as she clenches around the man’s fingers. He doesn’t slow as he helps her through it, prolonging the orgasm until the girl is openly sobbing. 

The sound of Joel’s furious pumping is starting to get louder as the lube spreads and warms even further, the slick slapping noise every time he hits his pelvis almost drowning out the sound of the video. If he tries hard enough, he can even imagine it’s a real cunt he’s fucking into right now. 

He knows he’s getting closer. His balls start to tighten and he throws his head back, ears beginning to ring as he puts all of his focus on crossing that finish line. His breath comes out thinner but still noisy, whines and groans tumbling from his lips, unrestrained in the empty house. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he grunts a final time before spilling over his hand. His jaw falls slack as he drags it out, pumping himself dry even after it becomes too much. He relishes in the way his own cum easens the slide and keeps him warm as he softens. He wants so badly to keep going, get himself hard again, but he can’t. 

He hisses through tightened teeth and finally lets his hand fall from his limp cock. The video’s ended, leaving him alone in his living room to cool off. Deciding he’ll just let himself relax to get his bearings for a moment, he lays his head against the headrest on the couch. His eyes fall closed again as his breathing starts to even out. He can only tell at the last second that he’s about to fall asleep, but he’s too far gone by then to care.

[suenitos]

I need someone to explain the !cdnf lore to me 😔

oh my godddddd how do i even go about this... so much of this is like you had to be there but i'll try my best ok. here are some things that helped me tremendously while writing:

cdnf manifesto (pretty much all cdnf moments compiled into one document with streams attached)

some cdnf moments

cdnf is an interesting case because it kinda emerged a little bit before the time the separation between Lore (plot) and Real Life officially happened (in my opinion this is when dream put out the please use c! to refer to our characters tweet) where a lot of the fandom attitude towards rpf was still being kinda weirded out by it, so a lot of people were drawing dnf "as a dare"/"because i lost a bet" and infamously "only shipping the minecraft skins" slash characters. previous to this/around the time of fundy's wedding video there was no real culture surrounding shipping most characters in a serious immersive way according to the story really up until the election and around the november 16 event. everything earlier than the explicitly described roleplay is kinda shaky at best in being considered canon, except for the kingdom line where cdream tells cgeorge that he will be the next king once they take back the land from lmanburg. theres also someee moments where theyre protective of each other during this war as cgeorge had always been on the side of the americans, kinda like irl which is a common theme in why a lot of people find this relationship fascinating. like. the rituals. we were still in dreams "straight" arc mind you.

a lot of the canon relationship relies mostly on the protective knight and king dynamic around late 2020 in which cdream crowns cgeorge king after he deems him more neutral to every conflict going on in canon over ceret, because of the running joke that irl george slept through every major event and he was building a mushroom house during the november 16 event. the big thing to remember about george is he wasnt super into the rp as much as dream was and we didnt see a ton of designated lore streams from him as a result, leading him to incorporate his sleepy/inactive nature as part of his character to sort of "excuse" him from a lot of the plot and from interacting with other characters. this was later though, but during the time of king/knight cdream was shown to be very protective of cgeorge and doing things like buying him flowers in secret (this was before fundy wedding was retconned but i still consider this one canon), stealing back his fish beckerson from cquackity i believe, and going to war against lmanburg and building obsidian walls surrounding the place AND exiling ctommy BECAUSE ctommy and co burned down cgeorge's house he built before becoming king. at the time people did read that as cdream using cgeorge as an excuse to do build walls and enact exile but i like to read it romantically i think thats more fun.

but as the person who created the server along with dream he was bound to have one of the most important relationships to him no matter what. after a while though, cdream dethroned cgeorge to re-crown ceret as cgeorge was starting to align himself with cquackity, csapnap, and ckarl in making a new independent nation that wasnt lmanburg, dsmp, or the badlands named el rapids (making him no longer the most neutral of the server) and this is the moment cdnf (and cdteam really) kinda split up for good in a way. do remember the reason this even happened is ALLEGEDLY because george irl wasnt super into the lore and dream gave him an out through lore, yet he underestimated the DRAMAAAA george would give as his character which led to a way more compelling story/narrative surrounding dethronement as cdream's complete betrayal of both cgeorge and csapnap to focus on other matters like ctommy or whatever. sadly, no more cdnf proper after this that doesnt come in the form of crumbs/mentions from other characters (such as two times csapnap confronting cdream and mentioning george to which cdream has very Normal responses) or dreams that dubiously affect real life (in canon) but cdream does what he does and cgeorge moves to kinoko kingdom with csapnap and ckarl. but honestly i think the most tragic part of dethronement was probably the fact it was on quackity's stream tbh 😒

the first time dreamxd showed up on the server was during george's tiktok banned me stream due to the fact cdream was in prison canonically but dream still wanted to play with george on the server on the rare occasion he got on, and this was the only stream that featured dream voicing dreamxd without filters, because it was a semi rushed decision. this stream could technically be considered the first cgeorge dream presented to us, but the concept that george's lore streams were dreams came one stream later featuring cniki and cbad as well. anyway this stream is kinda technically not canon because dnf and quackity were rping george getting banned from tiktok so its very much Not lore in that sense but it again featured a lot of dream being protective of george, "betraying" him and groveling and george acting sad and crying irl on command. rituals. ONE MORE THING TO ADD ABOUT THE PRISON THAT IS VERY IMPORTANT: cdream is captured and put into prison before this stream as previously said, but almost EVERY SINGLE character is there to watch EXCEPT cgeorge. meaning, he may have been in deep sleep at this point. HOWEVER, he never visits the prison ONCE in canon. more on this later.

anyway the next stream features some interesting implications about cdream and dreamxd's connection like are they two separate entities? are they split from a singular entity? can cdream take over dreamxd's body temporarily or is it dreamxd mimicing his voice and body (dream was using the same skin for both). also, dreamxd had access to creative mode which led many to characterize him as a god of the server and dream incorporated that into his character as a result, but also that he's a massive fucking simp for cgeorge in giving him items he asks for which again. rituals. this is the stream where cgeorge and dreamxd become friends forever as well.

but before explaining the last lore stream george ever did and also some stuff that happened after on cdream's side, there are also things to address regarding symbols and things that just made cdnf's relationship a lot closer than the others. for example, the wooden pickaxes they left in the nether near the beginning of the server's birth that philza eventually found and eret put in a museum. another is their literal child nugget (this one is a stretch tbh but it makes me smile) a chicken that george had in dream's room during the construction of the community house before a sewer ran through it :/ this one is purely me in that i also consider tnt to be a symbol of both cdnf in that cdream uses it a lot and cgeorge uses it to blow up the world in his last stream, and they both use it to blow up cquackity's las nevadas sign both in the dream and in canon. but the most important one of all is The Shield.

this damn. motherfucking shield. with a blue field masoned banner. was somehow the longest running symbol surrounding cdnf. i have gone to bed sick over this shield. a brief timeline about it: the first time we saw it was when cdream had it equipped during the obsidian lmanburg wall incident and cgeorge famously saying "im not going to be hurt if dream's next to me". cdream doesnt show up again with it to my knowledge but CGEORGE has it during the lil nas x stream (cdream in prison) during which he gets killed and lil nas x briefly equips it before karl gets it back to george near the end/after the stream. we never saw cdream give him this shield, it's kinda maybe implied that he gave it based on the fact its the same design?? who knows. later, the shield gets stolen by sapnap during another dream (this was during george's first year anniversary stream) featuring dream! where he dreams that cdream left prison and joined cgeorge csapnap cbad and ckarl on a tour of the server and kinoko. karl steals it back from csapnap during sapnap's stream with drista in secret, and manages to get it BACK to george MANY MONTHS LATER after an mcc and time travel shenanigans without sapnap knowing. george is GENUINELY happy about this damn shield and puts it in his enderchest, nearly freaking out when cpunz kills him and he thinks he lost it. super normal behavior. anyway. interlude over back to the last stream.

cgeorge's i blew up the dream smp deserved an oscar. seriously. masterclass in acting and streaming. the key point to remember from earlier here is cgeorge had NEVER visited the prison, but a specific moment from quackity's forming las nevadas stream revealed him standing outside the prison, looking inside, before cquackity got his attention, so he was clearly thinking about visiting, yet never had the courage or will to see him again. anyway this stream's inciting incident is cgeorge noticing no one is on the server and encounters cdream LEAVING the prison. they have a confrontation in which cdream asks cgeorge to join him or else he destroys kinoko. he kills cgeorge. after beating ctechno And cdream, cgeorge goes on a destruction spree and also kills cquackity ckarl and ccallahan before finally killing god aka dreamxd, his last link to cdream/humanity. that sequence where he fights him is oddly flirty. anyway he then goes on to go to the End and almost kills the dragon to rule over a world of nothing except.. it was all a dream. cgeorge ends the stream furious. this is the last we ever see of cgeorge.

meanwhile cdream gets taunted of cgeorge on various occasions: with csapnap, with cbad, and at the end with ctommy. one of the signs he has listing his plans has the name george on it, discovered by ctommy and ctubbo before they go defeat him. during the finale, ctommy goes into limbo and sees/hears cdnf during dream's FIRST dsmp stream before he abandoned showing his pov and convinces cdream destroying the world isnt the way before everyone blows up from the nuke L. thats the end of canon before "season 2" which. lets not get into that but them also dying to the dragon when the official end to the dsmp stream happened was really cute :( and its very poetic to note that irl dnf started this insaneeee phenomenon an ocean away and ended it all together in the same house in LA :(

last notes: dream fucking ADORED this ship so much that when he held a fanfic contest (dnf barely being accepted by the mods but allowing lore fics) he chose a cgeorge-centric cdnf fic as the winner. he liked so much fanart of it, and he particularly liked dreamxd and cgeorge fanart. he also accidentally revealed two google searches during one of his geoguessr streams which were "georgenotfound dream smp wiki" and "georgenotfound dream SMP king short story wattpad". okay man. protip ao3 is better for inspiration but whatever. but lets also not discount george here as he was also a freak and liked the famouss king/knight fanart of their characters near kissing and replied "hot" before people really took the concept of cdnf or any shipping super seriously. now, you can debate whether he meant that seriously or as a joke, but based on his streams if you were to find anything to ship, you seriously could not do that with anyone other than dream in either his cdream or dreamxd form unless you were looking to break up ckarlnapity in some way but those ships were less popular, probably because of irl dnf's real life chemistry. cdream is another story but thats not the focus here, though i wont deny there isnt grounding for a lot of other popular cdream ships, which is fine.

over time, dnf became incredibly close as friends and as a duo, and in terms of fandom developments, over the course of 2021 leading into 2022, shipping dnf as real people and not the pseudo heatwaves/accelerate/minecraft skins image of them became much more popularized. as dnf grew closer they did less streams in lore and their real life dynamic became a lot more interesting the closer the face reveal became. but in a way, in my opinion, the lore streams were a way for dnf in particular to sort of deal with their situation due to covid and dream's inability to go outside and do shit, in a sense the prison arc kinda symbolizes dream's irl situation though thats likely not the case. but a lot of their dynamic shone through in their characters via dream being very protective of george and george caring about him in his own way/being kinda obsessed with him in general.

overall, i think the best part of this ship is just how founded on delusion, crumbs, and denial from the fans it was yet how surprisingly supported it was by dnf themselves over time as the server became super mega BONKERS insanely popular??? like it is genuinely one of the only actual canon slash r ships in the story, moreso implied than anything else but holding much more water than something like ckarlnapity in the end which is CRAZY. the imagery and inspiration that came out of the ship was incredible and yet its still a very tragic story in canon that doesnt actually truly get resolved (i like to imagine season 2 fixed this). however in the end, although cdnf didnt get a happy ending, irl dnf did, in meeting/living with each other and officially shedding off this wild part of their life and career as characters in a story coping with their real life circumstances, to living life to the fullest physically together and happy. :)