#LOVENOTES☆

[whiteferraristurns]

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ⚠︎︎ none. no use y/n. fluff

BRI ✮ rapper chris!!👅

reblogs, likes and comments are heavily appreciated ᥫ᭡

Late Night in the Studio

The hum of the city faded into the background as you entered the studio, a small black bag clutched in your hand. The dim, moody lights cast a soft glow over the walls lined with platinum records, awards, and Chris's signature graffiti art—raw, messy, undeniably his. The faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla drifted from the candles flickering on the windowsill, the only soft contrast to the electric energy in the room. The space felt familiar, yet every time you entered, the charged energy made you feel like you were stepping into another world.

It was late—later than you would have preferred to be out on a Thursday night—but Chris had insisted, and you couldn’t deny the pull his voice held over you. You were used to the chaos that came with his life, the late-night calls and the constant tug-of-war between your schedules. But something about tonight felt different.

You leaned against the doorway watching how the pink lights lit up his features perfectly. “You look like you’re thinking hard over there,” Chris turned, adjusting his headphones before pulling them down to hang around his neck. He shot you that lazy grin that always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

“Just wondering why you’ve got me out here at midnight,” you teased, your  lips pulling up into a smile. “Don’t you ever sleep?” Chris shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets with that lazy, too-cool look he always wore. “Can’t sleep when I’ve got inspiration running through me. You should know that by now.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a seat on the leather couch that stretched against the wall. It was worn and cracked, but you’d spent enough time here that it almost felt like home. “So I’m here to be your muse?” You arched an eyebrow, teasing, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the warmth his words brought.

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers ran over the soundboard, tweaking a few settings as he let the beat play softly in the background. He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyes dark and serious. “Actually, yeah. This one’s got your name all over it.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. Your heart skipped, but you tried to play it cool, tilting your head with a small smile. “You really expect me to believe you wrote a whole song about me?”

He nodded, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s wouldn't be the first one”Your mouth went dry. You knew he poured his life into his music, but the idea that he’d written about you was something else. You glanced away, biting your lip to hide the mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything,” he murmured, leaning against the soundboard as he met your gaze. “Just… listen.” Chris hit play, and the room filled with a steady, soulful beat, layered with smooth guitar riffs that softened the intensity of the bassline. Then his voice cut through, raw and honest, each line hitting like a confession.

“She’s the pulse that keeps me steady, when the world’s too loud to bear. She’s the reason why I’m breathing, even when there’s smoke in the air.”

The lyrics rolled over you, each word hitting deeper than you’d expected. You breath caught as you heard the pain, the longing, the way he seemed to reach for you through every line. It wasn’t just a song. It was a part of him—a part of your bond. You listened, your hand messing the necklace he had gotten you for your birthday. As his voice continued, weaving a story of nights you’d spent together, of whispered words in dim rooms, of a connection that neither of you knew how to define.

“She’s the storm that keeps me grounded, the spark behind every verse,” he rapped, his voice deep and resonant, each word laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “When I’m lost in this world, she pulls me down to earth.”

The track finally faded into silence, you blinked, realizing your eyes were damp. You hadn’t even noticed the tears pooling, too wrapped up in the emotion of it all.“Chris…” you started, but words failed you. How could you tell him that you felt it too, that every time he left for another city or hit the stage, you were there with him, a part of your  heart stitched into every lyric?

He crossed the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours. The air between you both was thick with things unsaid, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know. “It’s not easy, you know?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “Balancing all this. Sometimes, I don’t know how much longer I can keep pulling you into this world.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You’d always known that dating Chris meant sacrifice, meant that your time was often borrowed and fleeting. But the thought of letting him go was harder than you wanted to admit.“You’re not pulling me anywhere, Chris,” you whispered back, your hand reaching out to brush his. “I’m here because I want to be.”

For a moment, he looked away, his jaw tight. You knew that look—he wore it when he was fighting back something deeper, something vulnerable. You reached out, your hand resting on his, grounding him. Slowly, he turned back to you, his fingers threading through yours.

“What if it’s too much?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. “What if… I’m too much?”You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “You could never be too much, Chris. You’re just… everything.”

Your words hung in the air, soft and steady, the truth of them lingering between you. And in that moment, you felt like you were finally laying your cards on the table, every piece of your heart exposed. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you two, your lips brushing his in a gentle, tender kiss that held everything you couldn’t put into words.

When you pulled away, he held you close, his forehead resting against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you stayed like that, just breathing, just existing in the same space. “I don’t know where this is going,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “but I want to figure it out with you.”You nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle in yo heart. “We’ll figure it out, one verse at a time.”

And as you sat together in the dim studio, surrounded by his music, you knew that whatever happened, you’d face it together—through the highs, the lows, and everything in between. Because no matter what, you had each other, and that was enough.

BRI ✮ short n’ sweet. please tell how this was I lowk hate it😭

more fic’s will be out soon I just thought I’d post this one now since it’s been sitting in my drafts since the day after the video

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ☆

@sturniqloo @iillovechris @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @ghostlyplug @mattsfavginger @chrissturnioloenthusiastforlife @ncm9696 @starfuckoff @heartz4matt

[torturemachina]

Old picture of me frolicking in the field

♠️ Coord is all meta besides my shoes

[multigenponies]

Round n Round (g3)!!

-Mod Lovenote 💌

[yoariana]

Ariana Grande for LOVENOTES

[zhonglisbeloved]

wheres the ayato smut im eating my own hand rn

CLAN HEAD AYATO & HIS FAVOURITE MAID <3

I didn't realise how much you all liked that idea? (crying rn). I'm not really satisfied with this but it's been a while since I've written something this long :') @komelrebi-san hi my love Kamisato Ayato x fem! reader (his pov?) WARNINGS: NSFW, mentions of marking, tummy bulge

the day was finally here, the announcement of the young Kamisato Ayato taking over as the head of the Kamisato Clan. The blue haired bachelor shouldered many responsibilities now, most obligatory annoyances, and some just annoyances that would take time to subside; like the ladies from other clans oggling him and begging to be married to him. He had spent his entire celebratory feast swarmed by partner clans and such and being gawked at by the ladies, it was uncomfortable to say the least but all these feelings of unease vanished when his eyes landed on the newly appointed maid, (name). oh she was beautiful, gorgeous, so innocent yet so otherworldly he swore he had fallen in love then and there. he wasn't someone who didn't have needs but he was also someone who hadn't had sex, he was a proper man, a reserved man. but seeing (name) had lit a fire in him, the next thing he knew he was asking the head maid to appoint her as his own personal maid. she was to only attend to him and no one else. of course as the head of the clan his word was valued and the changes were made immediately, after his shower that night he called for her. (name), I need your assistance, he told her as soon as she entered. the clan heads are given a special service by their personal maid on the day of their taking up the position his eyes roamed over her body, taking in the curves and the dips as he said so, watching her innocently nod. how can I fulfil my duties? she answered dutifully. he bit back a smirk and cleared his throat strip. his order was simple and direct, and (name), who had no idea that the so called "tradition" was made up, obeyed. she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she nodded and stripped out of her clothes, standing bare before him and clenching her thighs in hopes of satiating the growing wetness. she was innocent yet not unknown to sexual desires. he practically eye fucked her as he took off his robe, exposing himself and his huge girthy cock that was hard and stood tall.

he pushed her to lay down on the bed and spread her legs, eagerly taking in her wet pussy, fuck you're so pretty (name) he groaned, his cock twitching as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, another to the column of her throat, down the valley of her breasts, to her soft tummy and then finally, a lingering kiss to her swollen, needy clit. she whimpered softly, n-ngh master her whiney voice ringing in his ears as he felt himself get drunk off her essence and sweet smell.

he practically buried his face in her wet cunt, slurping and licking at her juices. he sucked on her clit and nibbled on it before thrusting his tongue in that tight hole, groaning against her pussy and sending waves of pleasure over her. she moaned and whimpered absolutely lost in the pleasure he gave her when he fucked her with his tongue and rubbed her clit with his thumb. s-sir- please- 's so good don't stop she begged as tears welled up in her eyes, how could anyone humanely eat her out so good that she was already seeing stars.

he made her cum on and in his face twice before sitting up and positioning himself between her legs, his cock head pressing against her clit as he slapped it on her pussy a few times before sliding it teasingly against her slit. p-please- put it in she begged, looking up at him with teary eyes and tears running down her cheeks as she spread her legs wider and spread her pussy lips using her two fingers master please 'm begging you- wan' your cock so bad I can't take it anymore a soft sob escaped those pretty glossy lips as she bucked her hips, trying to get him to enter that needy cunt while all he did was chuckle at her feeble attempts, slapping her cunt once. twice. thrice. patience is a virtue my dear he leaned down and purred in her ear, pressing a chaste kiss to the lobe before kissing her lips. he bit her lower lip and his tongue entered her wet cavern, claiming her mouth as his own.

he was mean. so mean, kissing her like he owned her, rubbing up against her, and groping her, marking her body with hickeys and love bites but not pushing his cock in her cunt. this went on for almost half an hour before his patience snapped, seeing her all marked up and begging him through soft sobs like a little bitch in heat. he growled lowly pushing his hard, throbbing cock in her cunt and moaning as her warm and tight walls enveloped his big cock. mnghp- so big master!! you'll split me in half he wasn't even half way in and she was already scratching his back complaining about how big he was. shh pretty, he cooed, you gotta take it okay? gonna be good f'me and fulfil your duties right? he whispered in a loving tone as he pushed in further until he was completely sheathed in her, the tip of cock kissing her cervix. y-yes master she whined, her tummy had a small bulge because of his cock. his eyes darkened and he was overtaken by a primal need to mark her with his cum as he saw the bulge. he pressed down on it and started moving; slow, deliberate thrusts at first which gradually became feral and uncontrolled as he drilled his cock into her sobbing pussy relentlessly.

his hands pinned hers above her head as he fucked her filthy, making out messily with her and marking her up more until she was screaming his name and cumming all over him again and again, overstimulated to heavenly extents. he came inside her again and again, marking her with his hot seed, filling her up and making a mess of her.

that night perhaps the entire Kamisato household learned that their reserved clan head was insatiable when he truly wanted something.

[32coconuts]

lovenotes

[loveebot]

i’ve been thinking about bunny!reader and dealer!matt like hear me out 🤭 she’s so needy and clingy all the time and considering how quiet and kept matt always is, the combination is just UGH

you may have done smth w this i fearr

if you also wanna send in a request go here

intro — you guys were first introduced to each other at a party by a mutual friend. you thought he didn’t like you because of how quiet his was. but then some guy was spiking your drink while you weren’t looking. matt saw and punched him and you’re looking at him all doe eyed like “😍”. he told you to hang around him for the rest of the party, and after that you decided to hang onto him forever.

just imagine him quietly dealing at a party, most people coming to him because he doesn’t make it known, and suddenly you appear (very clearly drunk) with a big smile on your face. “matty!” you bounce over to him and give him a tight hug, your tits pressed against his chest. he gives you a small, close lipped smile, only really feeling comfortable to express his affection when you guys are alone. it’s nothing against you, it’s just the way he is.

you know this, and usually it doesn’t bother you. but tonight you’re reallyyy needy. so you grab his hand and drag him over to one of the cushioned benches by the bonfire. you sit him down and straddle his lap, resting your face in his neck. his arm is awkwardly resting around your back while he continues to sell to the people coming up to him. eventually you start kissing his neck and grinding down on him, not caring who saw, causing him to turn red. “oo-kay, time to go.”

let’s just say he’s a little upset with you for shortening his selling time and may or may not take it out on you(‘re poosay😋).

󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠⠀ׁ⠀ㅤ © ㅤ 𝓵𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖾𝖻𝗈𝗍 ︎︎︎︎ ︎︎︎︎ . ⠀ ୭ৎ ㅤ 󠀠󠀠󠀠𓊇ྀི

[el-mundo-segun-lola]

"Quiero una historia de amor en donde seas tú el indicado en cada página." -Lola Correa

[his-heart-hymns]

The world told me I was too much or not enough but you made me feel just right.

-Marie Jo Schwarez.

[alienaiver]

Ooooooooohhh. Can I have your headcanons about Present Mic? *blushing face*

yes YES YES you sure can !!!! i hope i do the beloved man justice <333

Songs on his iPod: yamada is EVERYWHERE. he goes from jazz to rock to pop in a span of few songs. i added the ones he jams to the most that gears him up for long days! supermassive black hole - muse innocent arrogance - BiSH bling-bang-bang-born - creepy nuts can't hug every cat remix - the gregory brothers and cara hartmann

The one place they fall asleep – where they’re not supposed to: he often falls asleep in the teacher's lounge. having three jobs is demanding, okay! its a problem though, bcos it's always during lunch, where students come by to borrow keys to classrooms/clubrooms and advice for english midterms, so the door's open. more students than he can count has pictures of him leaned back in his desk chair, with his mouth open, quirk accidentally activated as he snores. aizawa sometimes uses his quirk instead of waking him up, because he knows how much he overworks himself.

he thinks it's UNBELIEVABLE that his precious students are more interested in him sleeping where he shouldn't than his colleauge and friend, aizawa. aizawa argues his gimmick of sleeping at every given opportunity is old news to everyone. however, the lively teacher? more exciting.

The game they’d destroy everyone else at: with his lips scrunched up towards his nose and a heavy air of concentration around him, he will turn ANYONE to dust that challenges him in J-star victory VS. it doesnt even matter which character he plays as or against, he will end you.

The emoticon they’d use most often: 🏎 he uses it to relay that he's on his way wherever (to work, plans, etc) to colleagues and friends. he thinks his beat-down car really is a race car.

What they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: even more energetic, which no one thinks possible. he never really gets enough sleep, so that's just his baseline, actually.

Their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights or mornings: caramel latte. he needs the sugar on top of the caffeine.

How they like to comfort/care for themselves in a slump: hes a bad boy, because he doesn't. he just pushes on, ignoring all the warning signs until he absolutely crashes and burns. then, hes in the dumps for a week or so, his friends and you bringing him food and support. then he bounces back, pretending it never happened. one day, you'll get properly through to him.

What they wanted to be when they grew up: formula 1 driver. hence, the type of car

Their favorite kind of weather: storms! typhoons, especially. if his ma' asks, hes OF COURSE never went outside during one!!!!

Thoughts on their singing voice: he sings like an absolute angel. he's able to do falsetto gorgeously too, and getting him to sing lullabies before bed is like a heavenly blessing bestowed upon you, and always guarantees the perfect sleep.

How/what they like to draw or doodle: EVERYTHING. he draws cats, stars, random shapes, whatever theres in the room with him (windows/curtains, chairs, chalkboards). hes quite a doodle artist

GOSH I LOVE HIM SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH

send me a character and ill fill out these headcanons

[whiteferraristurns]

𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮! Implied smut, no actual sex. She/her pronouns. Frat boy Chris x “party girl” reader.

🐻ྀིྀི - I have a love hate relationship with this.

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬ღ

The music pulsed through the packed fraternity house, reverberating in Chris’s chest as he leaned against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in hand. The air was heavy with the scent of cheap beer, sweat, and cologne, but none of it fazed him. This was his domain.

“Yo, Chris, have you seen her yet?” Nick asked, nudging him with his elbow. Chris smirked, shaking his head. “Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll know the second she walks in.” You were infamous at these parties, a force of chaos wrapped in the body of a goddess. You had a way of making the whole room tilt in your favor, guys and girls alike stumbling over themselves to bask in your orbit.

As if summoned by thought alone, the front door swung open, and there you were. You strutted in like you owned the place, your crop top clinging to you in all the right places and your ripped jeans showing just enough to keep people guessing. Your hair cascaded down your back, and your plump red lips curved into a dangerous smile.

Chris straightened, tossing his cup into the trash. “There she is,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Your eyes scanned the room, a predator looking for your prey. When your gaze landed on Chris, your smirk deepened. Without missing a beat, you sauntered toward him, your hips swaying to the beat of the music.

“Chris,” you purred, stopping just close enough to make his heart race. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You’re at my house, pretty,” he replied, leaning in. “You expected me not to show up to my own party?” You chuckled, the sound low and sultry. “Touché.”

Your conversations were always like this—sharp and layered with tension that neither of you dared to break. But tonight, there was an edge to your demeanor, a challenge in your eyes that made Chris’s pulse quicken.

“You dancing tonight, or are you just here to tease me?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze serious. You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Maybe both,” you replied before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the makeshift dance floor in the living room.

The crowd parted for you like water, and soon you were in the center of the chaos. You turned to face Chris, your movements fluid as you matched the beat of the music. You danced like you didn’t care who was watching, but Chris knew better. Every sway of your hips, every flick of your hair—it was all intentional, all meant to drive him insane. And it was working.

Chris stepped closer, his hands hovering near your waist but not quite touching. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could control you. You weren't the type to be claimed.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You grinned, your lips dangerously close to his ear. “You’re not dying yet, frat boy.”

The song shifted, the bassline deepening, and You turned around, pressing your back against Chris’s chest. He hesitated for half a second before his hands found your hips, gripping you firmly but not possessively.

You moved together like you’d done this a thousand times before, the chemistry between you crackling like static electricity. Chris couldn’t focus on anything else—not the crowd around you two, not the music, not even the fact that you two were putting on a show for half the house.

All he could think about was you.

When the song ended, you spun around, your cheeks flushed and your eyes gleaming. “Not bad,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You don’t make it easy,” he shot back, his voice hoarse.

Before he could say more, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the stairs.

“Wait what about—”

“Don’t tell ‘em,” you interrupted, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Unless you’re chicken.”

Chris didn’t have a chance to reply before pulled him up the stairs, the door of his room slamming shut behind you fading the party. 

You leaned against it, your eyes locked on his as you bit your bottom lip, a coy smile tugging at the corners. The air between you crackled with tension, the kind that had been building for weeks, maybe months.

Chris stood near the edge of his bed, his heart racing. He could hear the muffled bassline from downstairs, but it felt like it belonged to another world. This moment, this room-it was just you two.

You pushed off the door and slowly walked toward him, your shoes clicking softly against the wooden floor. When you stopped in front of him, you tilted your head, your expression daring yet soft.

"Are you scared of me, Chris?" you teased, your voice low, almost a whisper. Chris huffed a laugh, his smirk barely masking the way his pulse thundered in his ears. "Should I be?"

You didn't answer. Instead, you reached out, your fingers grazing the hem of his shirt. You looked up at him through your lashes, your lips parting slightly as you tugged at the fabric.

Chris swallowed hard. "You're playing with fire ma."

You raised a brow. "Maybe I like the burn it gives.”

That was all it took to break his restraint. Chris grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him. Your breath hitched, and for a split second, you just stared at each other, your noses nearly touching.

Then you kissed him.

It wasn't soft or hesitant; it was fierce, full of all the teasing and tension that had been simmering between you. Your hands slid up his chest, tangling in his hair, while he gripped your hips, anchoring you to him as if he was afraid you'd slip away.

"Ma," he muttered against your lips, his voice gravelly.

"What?" you murmured, kissing him again, deeper this time. Chris pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hands still firmly on your waist. "If we do this... it's not just some game for me."

Your expression faltered for a moment, your eyes flickering with something unreadable. But then you smiled, softer this time.

"Good," you whispered. "Because it's not for me either."

His lips found yours again, and this time, it was slower, more deliberate.

Chris guided you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You laughed softly as you fell onto the mattress, pulling him down with you. You moved together in perfect sync, every touch, every kiss igniting something deeper. Your laughter mixed with Chris's low murmurs, the weight of your usual banter replaced by something infinitely more intimate.

The mattress dipped under Chris's weight as he hovered over you, his hands pressing into the bed on either side of your head. Your hair fanned out against the pillow like a halo, but the mischievous glint in your eyes was anything but angelic.

"You're staring," you teased, your voice softer now, almost breathless. Your fingers toyed with the chain around his neck, tugging him closer.

"Can you blame me?" he shot back, his tone low as he leaned down until your noses brushed.

Your lips curved into a smirk, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your gaze-something Chris hadn't seen in you before.

Vulnerability. He didn't comment on it, didn't call you out. Instead, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours with a mix of heat and tenderness. You sighed into the kiss, your hands sliding down his chest and under the hem of his shirt. Your nails grazed his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "Off," you murmured, tugging at the fabric.

Chris chuckled, sitting back just long enough to strip off his shirt, revealing the lean muscles you'd only caught glimpses of before. Your gaze lingered, and for once, you didn't have a snarky remark ready.

"What?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Nothing," you replied, your voice quieter now. You sat up slightly, your hands tracing the lines of his chest.

"Just didn't expect you to look this good." He laughed, the sound low and rich, before pulling you back down beneath him. "I could say the same about you," he murmured, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck, every spot that made you shiver beneath him.

You felt yourself slipping with every touch, every kiss. You'd built your reputation on being untouchable, unbothered, but Chris was different. He wasn't trying to win you over with fake charm or empty promises. He wasn't trying to tame you. He just wanted you.

As sweet as it was it scared you

"Chris," you whispered, your fingers curling into the sheets.

He paused, pulling back to look at you. His brow furrowed, and the intensity in his eyes softened.

"What is it?"

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip—a rare moment of hesitation for you. "This... This doesn't mean anything, right? Like, we're just..."

Chris's jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might pull away. But then he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was gentler than any you’d share so far. 

"It doesn't have to mean anything tonight," he said quietly, his voice steady. "But don't pretend it's not there. You feel it just as much as I do."

Your breath caught, and for the first time in a long time, you didn't have a witty comeback. You just nodded, pulling him closer again, letting the conversation fade into the background as you lost yourselves in each other. 

🧸ྀིྀི

The morning light filtered through the blinds in Chris’s room, casting soft rays over the tangled sheets and clothes strewn across the floor. Chris stirred awake, his head pounding faintly from the aftermath of the party, but it wasn’t the hangover that made his heart race.

It was you.

you laid beside him, one arm draped over your head and your lips slightly parted in sleep. Your hair fanned out across the pillow, and the faint remnants of last night’s lipstick still stained your mouth. You looked peaceful, almost angelic—nothing like the wild, chaotic force you were downstairs just hours ago.

Chris leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his messy hair. What the hell did he get himself into? Last night was a blur of heat and tension, but it was crystal clear how you ended up here. You had a way of drawing him in, of making him forget everything else. And now, in the quiet of the morning, reality started creeping in.

“You’re staring again,” you muttered, your voice raspy with sleep. You didn’t even open your eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Chris chuckled, leaning forward. “Hard not to when you look like that.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you turned to face him, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Careful, Christopher. Compliments like that might make me think you’re catching feelings.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And what if I am?” you froze for a split second before laughing it off, the sound light but guarded. “Don’t make this complicated, Chris,” you said, sitting up and pulling the sheet around you. “Last night was fun, but you know how I am.”

Chris sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, I know. But maybe I’m tired of this back-and-forth. Maybe I want more than just—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, your tone sharper than he expected. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, but there was a wall there, one he couldn’t push through. “This isn’t… I’m not the kind of girl who does ‘more.’ You know that.” Chris clenched his jaw, biting back the words he wanted to say. He knew your reputation, knew how you kept people at arm’s length, but last night felt different.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, standing up and searching for your clothes. “You’re a good guy, Chris,” you said, your voice softer now. “But you deserve someone who can give you what you want. And that’s not me.”

You found your jeans and slid them on, your movements quick and efficient like you were trying to get out before you could change your mind. Chris sat there, watching you, his chest tight.

“Don’t leave,” he called, his voice low.

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, but you didn’t turn around.

“You keep running from everyone, but one day you’re gonna realize you’re only hurting yourself,” he said, his tone both frustrated and resigned.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the world waking up outside. Then you turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the flicker of pain in your eyes.

“Maybe..” you whispered “I’ll see you ‘round Chris.” You sighed slipping out the door.

Chris stared at the empty doorway, his chest heavy with everything unsaid. He could still smell your perfume lingering in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Soon enough his phone buzzed. Don’t tell anyone about last night.

He stared at the message, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. I won’t. But you can’t keep running forever.

There was no reply, and Chris didn’t expect one. You were a storm—beautiful, wild, and impossible to hold onto. And even though he knew you’d probably blow through his life just as quickly as you entered it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop chasing you.

TAGS ʚ♡ɞ @sturniqloo @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @strnilolover @aymeesblog @il0vecatzzz @chrissturnioloslvt @mattsfavginger @heartz4matt @starfuckoff

[torturemachina]

[multigenponies]

Ommgggg coming from Paradise Estate, so excited!

Could I request g1 Galaxy or g3 Silver Glow?

So shiny!

-Mod Lovenote 💌

[yoariana]

Ariana Grande for her fragrance, LOVENOTES

[zhonglisbeloved]

knives & kisses [headcanons]

tagging my darling @komelrebi-san im thinking of changing the theme a bit & this is so filthy im shocked myself

Chuuya Nakahara x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw, knife play, playful threatening, small mention of blood, praise, spitting, tit sucking (mention of future lactation), kind of a breeding kink, mentions of getting pregnant in future + pregnant sex

chuuya and you have some...wild kinks to say the least

he one day randomly suggests knife play and you agree

he'll have you on your shared bed, only in a skimpy red lingerie, he'll use his knife to cut the strings of the lingerie, stripping you bare while mumbling threats like what if I cut you? what if I scratch you? you may bleed a little but doesn't matter, it'll be dealt with after I'm done fucking you~

he'll kiss all over your body, make out with you, be messy, spit in your mouth

he may ask you to open your mouth and then he'll shove the hilt of the knife in it, make you suck on it and coat it in your saliva while easily ignoring your whines about how you're so needy and want your wet pussy to be touched

he'll use the hilt of the knife to fuck your hole while his mouth is busy teasing your perky nipples

he has a thing for your tits, how can he not suck on them? he'll leave hickeys and bites, shamelessly suckling while he fucks you with the knife

after you've had your first orgasm, he'll replace the knife with his thick girthy cock, what was that? need a break? no, princess he'll mock you while overstimulating you, the knife tracing your thighs as he slams his hips against yours

if you squirm too much he'll hold the knife to your throat don't move baby, you don't want to get hurt do you?

he'll somehow manage folding you into half in a mating press and breeding you over and over again with the knife to your throat

I'll get you pregnant baby, and even then, I won't stop fucking you, yes?

I'll fuck and breed my pretty pregnant baby as much as I want

your tits will be swollen and full of sweet milk, you'll let me drink it, right? I'll massage them too, and drink whatever spills out, so nothing is wasted

[athycito]

⋆｡ﾟ☕️｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ @ queen of hrts