#and then the others are like... i like them but not obsessed. but i wanted to shout out the ships that my friends like

[anantaru]

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ hot things he does — love and deepspace

synopsis. hot things he does while doing it

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

warnings. fem! reader, oral (fem! receiving), fingering, cockwarming, dry humping, dirty talk, tit play, brat taming, petnames used: sweetheart, baby

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne + holding your body like he owns it

from what you've gathered, zayne always starts obsessing over your mouth while being in you first— his thumb carefully resting on your lip, tilting your face up like he's examining something delicate, quite precious, his darling, his life.

naturally, your cheeks rise in temperature beneath his grip, your skin dewy with sweat and pheromones and the way he looks at you was just so steady it made your belly twist tight. yet zayne doesn't need to say a lot, in fact, he doesn't have to, he just keeps his eyes locked on yours forevermore, watching every flicker of your lashes, every shiver that rolls down your spine as his cock pushes in with slow, thick and dragging thrusts, making you feel the strong tremors in your thighs.

"you feel that, you feel me?" he asks huskily, but not gentle, you notice there was something seething beneath it, something tight, like it took him insane effort not to filthily fuck into you, "that shake in your legs, fuck, you can take it all like that for me? thats not fair, is it?" as you shake your head frantically at him, skin flustered when he smirks at you.

"that's your body giving in, you know?" and then he starts, thrusts after thrusts, hard and deep all the way in, hips sharp and pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit with every goddamn drag— and in this situation, all you could really do was sob and twitch as zayne catches your noises with his palm on your mouth, still holding your face, making you look at him.

the way he fills you to the brim was nerve racking, the way every inch of his pulses like he's aching to come, but won't, not until you do as his thumb finds your clit and rubs fast circles through the protective skin of it, too intense yet you needed more when he just moaned out your name, loving your frame jerking under him, all from overstimulation and burning want.

"that's what i want baby," zayne grunts, voice fraying around the edges, "that exact sound, that exact fucking look," as a deep groan claws out of him when you tighten around his length, his hips snapping forward when you do it again.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier + becomes controlling over your pleasure

xavier doesn't touch you the way normal men touch, you see, there's no rush to his movements— no hunger on the surface as his breath remained even and his hands steady, his voice staying clinical as he sits at the foot of the bed, one hand pressed flat to your trembling inner thigh while the other disappears between your legs, fingers curling in filling strokes.

he watches the way your stomach flinches, the ripple of your thighs when he presses just a little deeper and the way your hips buck, chasing friction like instinct, and then jolt back in shame when you realize how carefully he's observing your entire frame.

"don't look away, you hear me," xavier's voice spills out like cold metal dragged across skin, remaining glacial at its core, "i want you to see what i see, how you fall apart for me, how you spasm every time i do this—" as he crooks his fingers again, making you choke on your breath as your toes curl, your cunt clamping down around him with a squelch so obscene it makes your whole body jerk upwards.

"you're soaked baby, fuck, have been for minutes, i've barely done anything," xavier's gaze alone pins you down, fierce and unblinking as his jaw ticks once— like he's bracing himself for the ruin he's about to make of you, "—and yet, you're trembling like i've fucked you raw."

well, okay, lets be honest here— you are trembling, in fact, your thighs just won't stop twitching even if you focus on them very hard.

the heat was just too much— sickly sweet and humiliating, a swelling ache that lived in your belly and climbed higher every time he curled his fingers up and rubs, fuck, you're soaking the sheets, desperately so, your slick dripping down his wrist and touching him up— quite hilarious, wasn't it? if you consider that xavier still hasn't even taken his shirt off yet.

you try to reach down and press his hand deeper into your cunt to find any friction on your clit, to relieve this maddening, building pressure that's leaving your vision white at the edges, yet his other hand shoots out— clamping around your wrist with enough strength to make you wince.

"don't," he says softly, but the warning inside was unmistakable, "don't, you're not allowed to interfere,"

you sob out his name in high tunes as your stomach tightens when he adds another finger, thighs shaking violently, you want, no, need, to have him closer, perhaps even have his tongue stroke through your hole to chase that spark building behind your ribs, but he won't let you.

"it's more interesting when you're desperate," xavier admits bluntly, withdrawing his fingers for a second— watching the way your cunt clenches around nothing, trying to hold onto digits, fluttering from the emptiness.

after waiting for a little, he slips them back in slowly, dragging them along your soaked walls, watching you flinch and twitch and cry out for him— and that's what ultimately made it worse, because xavier knows, he knows exactly how your body worked, exactly what it needed to cum, and he's purposely giving you just less than enough.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel + needs to cookwarm you

understandably, rafayel was panting even before he pushed himself into you, yet when he finally did— it's slow, thick, shivering with restriction which didn't last, "oh fuck," his adams apple bobs as he chokes on his spit, his head dropping against your shoulder with his voice hoarse of disbelief, "you're so tight, baby, so warm, you feel—" the man cannot even finish, truly, he can't.

his breath hitches instead, hips jerking deeper as rafayel curses again and again, low and against your neck, like each inch of you that swallowed him was tearing the sanity from his bones. he bottoms out once, twice, fucking into you faster to switch and choose between the perfect rhythm as he finally settles his entire shaft inside you, his body shuddering like he's about to cum then and there.

because the moment he fit his entire length in you, you clench around him furiously— tight and fluttering, pulsing with that needy ache as his mouth drops open with a broken gasp, "don't do that," he begs, barely above a whisper, "don't fucking squeeze like that— I'll fucking lose it," as he leans over you, forearms bracketing your head and forehead pressed to yours, hips twitching in shallow motions because even the smallest shift made you both cry out into each others lips.

"can i stay like this, baby?" he kisses along your jaw, "see how good we fit, how full you are, you're holding onto me like you never want me to leave," and then he thrusts up, fathomless and without restriction before dragging himself out just enough to feel the strong stretch of you, then sliding right back to the hilt— where he then stays, twitching inside with a sound closer to a sob than a moan.

you were so full at this point— achingly so, you could feel every vein of him, every curl and turn, the way his cock throbbed inside you like it's your own heartbeat as your legs shake around his waist from how heavy it made you feel, how close it made you too, fuck, how tight it got when your body flinched from the overwhelming pulses of him inside.

your stomach knots as your breath stutters, drinking in his moans again— helplessly kissing him as he completely took over your body, "can't even think about pulling out—" his hips move again, this time faster, barely pulling himself back, the drag of his cock so intense your back instantly arched from it, sparks flashing behind your eyes.

his hips slam deep, once, twice— and he's gone, voice catching as he releases with brutal force, cock pulsing as he comes inside you, deep, hot, thick, all of it, yeah? so much it spills back out with the next thrust— and still, he doesn't stop.

"again," he pants, "i'm not done, i'm not done, need you to keep me inside, don't let me go, don't let me fucking go—" rafayel kisses you, like he's trying to fuse into you, believing that if he can keep your cunt around his dripping dick long enough, he'll never have to leave.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus + obsessed with your tits

as one might expect, sylus doesn't even get your clothes off properly nor doesn't care if they tear, he's practically panting as he pulls your top down, lips already brushing hot over your chest before he even gets a full look, "fuck, fuck, you're so—" his breath hits your doused skin, his eyes wild and pupils blown, voice slurred like he's drunk on the barest sight of you, "you don't know what you do to me, you don't know how long i've thought about this."

then his mouth hits your tits and it's instantly wet, it's hot, all of it, it's filthy too, the way he latches onto your nipple with a groan so guttural it shakes through your ribs. his tongue rolls along your tits in slow circles as his teeth scrape, and when you arched into his body, twitching from how sensitive you were, he grins, "yeah, like that, that's what i wanna see," as he palms your tits with both hands and squeezes, pushing them together so he can bury his face between them and moan, like he's drowning in them, like he wants to live there forever.

your entire frame was on fire, thighs slick with your arousal, hips grinding into air— because he hasn't even touched you there yet, sylus couldn't find time, not properly, just the drag of his thigh between yours was enough he believed, or just the occasional graze of knuckles when he shifts to kiss the other nipple.

he wants it that way as he glances down once and groans— loudly like it's hurting him to wait, "you're messing up my pants," he smirks, rutting against your leg, leaking against your skin, "just from me sucking your tits like this? look at what a mess you are baby," sylus shoves his hand between your legs, fuck, finally, right? rubbing through your soaked pussy, smearing your slick up to your clit and back down, lazy and greedy all at once, "you want more? you wanna cum just from this?"

but do not mistake him because his mouth stays at your chest the whole time, he's addicted, mouthing one nipple while his fingers sink inside, scissoring your tight hole.

your back arches instantly and you're soaked, even more now and fuck, you're overstimulated from every side, your clit aching from how close you were yet he doesn't stop sucking on your sensitive nipples, doesn't stop grinding against your thigh like a man gone mad.

"you're perfect," he gasps, "you're perfect, let me have you like this, let me watch you come with my mouth on your tits— let me feel you fucking pulse around my fingers while i suck your tits, baby," as he grunts into your skin, "i'll ruin you like this, i'll make it so every time you touch yourself, you'll think about my mouth here— my tongue, my teeth, how fucking hard i came grinding against you."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb + cannot stop praising you

"you're so good," caleb whispers to you as if he's confessing something protected, his touch weighted with awe, a worship that trembles through his fingers, slithering up your thighs, then moving over to your waist, ultimately cupping your face, "so good, baby, I can't, i can't even—"

the sentence dies on his tongue because, well, he's too busy looking, you know? at you, in fact, at where he's inside you, at the way your lips part and your body arches up every time he shoves his cock inside you greedily.

and you feel everything, caleb made sure of that— the stretch, the slip, the depth, fuck, he's thick, hot, and so careful at first— so slow it's almost cruel, each inch dragging against your walls until your hands hold onto him for dear life, chasing more, chasing him.

caleb says your name through passion— like the pleasure was too good, too deep, so insane it might break him.

he's repeatedly brushing his lips over your cheek as he thrusts just a little harder, a little further so he could stroke over your sweet spot, taking your frame through new spots of awareness, "taking me so well, you're perfect, just perfect," as his voice cracks when you clench down, "you're so fucking good, too good— i'm not strong enough for you, sweetheart, not when you feel like this."

don't be afraid because, well, caleb will stop fucking you so slow and sensually at some point, even your boyfriend had limits and couldn't push back on his pleasure for eternity.

you whimper when he begins to slide against your sweet spot again, this time faster and caleb snaps, a groan ripping out of him, needy and raw as he's suddenly fucking you like he's starved for it— like you're the only thing in the world that made sense to him, his cock hitting so impactful your ability to breathe evenly was questioned, your back remained curved, your thighs shaking with every thick drag.

"you're so warm, so tight around me— fuck, i feel you everywhere," his hands grip your waist harder, pulling you against his pelvis as he thrusts, making it purposefully more extensive, messier too so you'll make those wet, nasty sounds for him, "you're squeezing me, baby, you don't even know what you do to me—"

your skin prickles from how much he worships you whenever you were intimate with each other, how he sounds ruined with gratitude, ruined with your cunt constricting around him ever so tightly, milking him, how he looked down and watches your bodies join like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen— your arousal and his cum spreading over your thighs, his cock glistening with every pullout as his breath stutters when he sees it, "you're making such a mess— i love it, i love you like this—"

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner! Sukuna x mom/stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotage you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) rec drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club a front lol) Mafia ties. This part- A LOT OF FLUFF- cutsie asf, emotional, the END (happy end too) explicit sex, breed kink, teasing and Kuna being OBSESSED w/reader- WC- 6.8k

Ties into my Mob Gojo story- you'll see him and the reader from there - but you can read it alone. Art in the banner is by Sketch B on X divider by @/cafekitsune

<<<Part Seven - Playlist - Masterlist

Part Eight - final part

“So, Satoru is running everything while we’re gone!? How’d he handle that one?” You ask, as you and Sukuna lay basking in the beautiful sunrays of this beach, warming your skin as you lounge in these chairs, watching Miwa and Touma running around in the crystal clear waters. Sukuna chuckles, turning a bit to his side, sipping on the Mai Tai and sighing.

His body is glistening, god, you’d rubbed that sunblock all over his huge, tattooed body - you have to take good care of those, he let you know - and now it’s mixing with a little bit of his sweat in a sheen so delicious you want to lick your damn boyfriend. He smirks arrogantly at you as you stare, ruby eyes glinting in the sun over the dark sunglasses he wore.

“Something wrong brat?” He’s met with you clearing your throat, trying not to watch a drip of sweat roll down one of his chiseled abdominals.

“Nothing. Um… so how did it go?” You sip on your own drink, a fruity concoction that hits your tongue and bursts with flavor, earning your sigh, as the waves lap gently on the pristine white sand.

The breeze blows your hair around you softly, as Sukuna stares at just how gorgeous you are in your bathing suit, it’s so pretty like something some fifties pinup girl would wear, though he’d love to see you in less, he knows you like to be a little covered up with Touma here. Even so the red pops right against your pretty skin, glistening from the sunblock he’d thoroughly massaged on your skin.

He’s torn between wanting to drag you in the beach house he’d rented for you all and tear into you, or just press pretty kisses across your heated skin. His hand brushes on your thigh now, feeling it tense as he does, your breaths making those pretty breasts rise and fall in that top. He’s also torn between asking you then and there, or waiting until you’re alone tonight.

The ring is front and center in his head.

“Something wrong, Kuna?” It’s your turn to tease him, earning his scoff, as he sips his drink again, lounging in the sweet paradise, looking at the girl he hopes will soon be his wife.

“Nothing, brat. Hmm, you asked about Satoru?” You nod a little.

“He hates running things, how’d he take the news of having to for a week or two?”

Sukuna pauses, remembering. “He was definitely pouty about it.”

You giggle now. “How so?”

‘What!? No, no, no. Ask Suguru or something!’ Satoru crosses his arms and pouts as Sukuna informs him, earning the tall, pink haired man’s eye roll.

‘Satoru it’s literally called the fucking Gojo family.’

‘And you’re rich for taking care of shit for me! No, I have plans of my own, I can’t deal with all this boring shit.’

‘Just stomp your foot why don’t you, god you’re all brats.’ Satoru scoffs, as Sukuna pours them both a glass of whiskey, earning Satoru’s frown.

‘I’m not drinking that shit!’

‘Just have a drink with me, I need some… advice.’ Satoru slumps in the seat across from Sukuna’s desk now, sipping the amber liquid and sputtering, only making Sukuna chuckle.

‘Advice from me? For what?’ Sukuna sighs then, pulling out the black velvet box, and Satoru’s blue eyes widen. ‘Oh, Sukuna I can’t marry you I’m sorry, you’re just not really my type-’

‘Be fucking serious, god you’re an idiot.’ Satoru laughs maniacally, and Sukuna goes to put it up when he waves his hands.

‘No, no, sorry. I am well versed in diamonds, let me see.’ Sukuna downs his whiskey as Satoru studies it carefully, yanking a jewelers eye off his key ring and inspecting it deeper. Satoru had always been responsible for their counterfeit jewelry ring, so he knows that man is experienced in jewels.

He whistles then, studying the prismatic diamond embedded in gold. ‘Is it a good one?’

‘Impeccable clarity, as close to perfect as you get. And the cut?’ He whistles again, handing it back to Sukuna now. ‘You’re going for it, huh?’

‘I am. That’s why I need you for a week, okay?’ Satoru sighs now, nodding, earning Sukuna’s exhale of relief.

‘Marriage will protect her more, as would adopting the kid.’

‘I know that but…’

‘You love her.’ Sukuna glares again, but sighs, nodding. ‘She’ll say yes, Sukuna, don’t worry.’

‘Never thought I’d say this, but I appreciate you.’ Gojo hugs Sukuna then, and Sukuna shoves him off, scowling. ‘Don’t push your fucking luck, Satoru.’

“He took it fine.” Is all Sukuna says, you stare curiously, watching a blush dance across his tanned cheeks, and he glares at you. “What!?”

“Nothing you just weren’t very descriptive for that long stare into space.” He leans close, tilting your chin up, and his hot, calloused palm makes you tremble.

“Just wait till we’re alone later.” His words get you, god they always do, if paradise wasn’t already so perfect, to know tonight you and Sukuna get to go to dinner together - alone - is even more thrilling.

You love time with Touma, Miwa and Sukuna together, but of course you also really loved spending some alone time with your boyfriend. How could you not, when he looks at you this way, when he treats you this way, like you’re his everything, and he’s become your everything along with Touma, truly. Love in a different way, of course, but you love them both so much it hurts.

“Nervous about our date, brat?” He teases, feeling the heat of your cheeks as he leans over, fingers brushing against one.

“Excited.” He smirks a bit, pressing a kiss when Touma runs up, dripping water off his swimsuit, and Miwa runs up behind him.

“They’re kissing!” Touma’s words make you both break apart, laughing, as Miwa takes your hands, yanking you up.

“Get in the water babe!” You run after her, eyeing a scowling Sukuna and a bouncing Touma before turning to the shore and running in the water, warm and pleasant against your feet, splashing on your ankles. “It feels so perfect, doesn’t it?” she collapses back in the water, splashing you, making you giggle.

“It’s so perfect, ah! I’ll never wanna go back.” You lay with her, covering your face as the sun beams down, the water lapping against the both of you, little seagulls squawking, fish swim around you both as your fingers slip along the wet sand, letting the grains fall between your fingers.

“I think I have the best job ever?” You giggle looking at her now, the sun lighting up her pretty blue locks.

“You deserve it, you helped me when no one would.” She blinks back tears, holding your hand, while the two of you lay there, and you feel your throat closing with emotions. “It’s true!”

“Oh I just love that you’re safe and happy. The money is amazing but mostly I enjoy seeing how bright you’re becoming.” You hug her tightly, over her in the water as she giggles, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Should I get jealous?” Comes Sukuna’s voice, gruff as he shades you from the sun, large shadow over the two of you while he crosses his arms, Touma is clinging to his back, arms around his neck as you all giggle.

“I was telling her I have the best job and she tackled me!” Miwa is giggling when you kiss her cheek again.

“She is clingy.”

“Hey!”

The day goes by in a beautiful haze, the four of you are back in the pretty beach house cooking together, as the sun sets and the breeze filters through the floor to ceiling windows, filtering the scent of salty sea through the home. Sukuna’s nibbling on everything as you’re cooking, despite you smacking at his hand and glaring, stealing bites for Touma like the troublesome duo they are.

“Yummy, mmm!” Touma’s licking sauce off his fingers, Miwa starts cleaning him up, while Sukuna’s hand comes to the small of your back.

“You’re yummy.”

“Shh!” You elbow him now at his whisper, just making him chuckle against your ear. “Go get Touma’s hands washed for dinner, and wash yours!”

“Your mom is too strict, kid.” He earns another glare as he hoists Touma up in the air, Touma’s little arms and legs out as he makes airplane noises, melting you immediately. You sigh, tasting the sauce now, as Miwa starts grabbing plates.

“I love that man.” You say dreamily, she smiles at you then.

“Well of course you do, written all over your face,” the sound of running water from Touma and Sukuna softly splashes while you and Miwa start plating the meal, and she murmurs softly, “You excited for tonight?”

“I am, what surprise could he have, we’re already in Fiji.” You take a sip of water now, letting the cool liquid filter down your throat, sighing, and seeing Miwa’s grin. “You know something!”

“Sure do.” You giggle now, rolling your eyes.

“You won’t tell me I’m sure.”

“I got paid not to.”

“No wonder you love this job so much.” You’re both murmuring and giggling when Sukuna and Touma come out now, Sukuna’s thrown on some loose kimono that looks far too good on him, a matching black silk one for Touma. “You two look so handsome, oh goodness!”

You snatch up Touma in your arms and give him smooches, making him peal out a cute little laugh, holding on tightly to you. Sukuna winks over at Miwa, who knowingly smiles back, since he’d let her in on his plan - honestly everyone knew about it except for you, blissfully unaware of the ring ready to be placed on your finger.

It was surely insane and maybe too soon if Sukuna was rational, but that is the last thing Ryomen Sukuna was, he was not rational a day in his life, and certainly not when it came to you. He loves you so deeply, obsessively in fact. He knows it's an obsession, from the moment he saw you, and everything for him shifted, he thought his life was amazing until he realized the gaping hole in it.

You.

Before he even spoke to you, met your son who he loves, before you kissed him, before any of it, he just saw you and folded. At first irritated that you made him so pathetic, now he was absolutely secure in his fate, that he was a simpy little bitch for you. There was truly no helping it - to him you’re the Queen of the city, just side by side with him.

And he’d give you anything, more than anything - all of him. He’s a little quiet during the dinner, as nerves eat at him just a bit, he is secure in your love but he knows your last marriage was terrible, and he doesn’t know if you’re going to stress about it again, or worry about committing again. He was fine with waiting, but he needed everyone to know you were his.

His and only his forever, he cannot accept a world where you’re not, where everyone doesn’t know that you are, and he can never lose you. Forever was an insane question to ask you, it’s only been a couple months of knowing you, and now you’ve sunk so deep into his soul, the perfection of just sitting next to you, watching Touma bouncing around as Miwa tries to get him to eat, it’s all too perfect.

It feels right.

The weight in his pocket is heavy, his hand on your thigh, comforting even as he feels it should tremble, luckily he has just about the steadiest hands there are, smirking at you and feigning ease, like he wasn’t panicking. If you said no he’d just keep asking you every single year forever.

Pathetic, he’s so pathetic for you.

“Time for bed, Touma, kiss them good night.” Miwa says later on, and Touma jumps in your arms, already giggling as you kiss his cheeks, too warm from so much sun today.

“Tomorrow we will make sandcastles!” You say softly, as he yawns, reaching his little hand for Sukuna now.

“I’ll make the best one.” Sukuna challenges, and Touma glares, snuggling up to your chest.

“I will! I’ll make mommy a castle!”

“I’ll make a bigger one.” Touma sticks his tongue out as does Sukuna, before ruffling Touma’s hair, making you roll your eyes.

“You two are entirely too much. Off to bed baby.” You kiss him again, and Miwa winks at you two before she takes him back to the room, you start to clean up the food now, putting it away and putting the plates in the sink with gentle clicks, as Sukuna comes up behind you, brushing your hair back and making you shiver.

“You put those dishes down, and come with me now, brat.” You turn and eye Sukuna, heart fluttering with excitement.

“You’re so demanding, papakuna.”

“You love to annoy me.” His ruby eyes glint, a smirk so playful, before he turns you to him, pressing your back against the counter. “Why do you annoy me so much?”

“You love it. You love me.” He exhales, cupping your face, so serious now, while the breeze billows the soft white curtains, stirring your red kimono around, as his flutters, revealing more of his strong chest, which your hand trails up. “You’re so serious, what is it?”

“Come with me.” Is all he says again, grabbing you by the hand now and dragging you out of the house.

“Your legs are too long, hold on!” You’re struggling to keep up with him, giggling as the two of you walk along the well lit trail from the beach home, he locks the home up and takes the key, slipping it in his pocket. “So secretive!”

“Hush now brat.” He pulls you against him, the two of you eye the beautiful sight of the moonlight reflecting over rippling waters, gentle laps along the shore, the stars illuminating the sky like you never see back in the city.

“It’s beautiful here.” You whisper, and he looks at you then, sighing.

“Yes, it is.” You turn back to find his eyes on you in the dark, like you are the most beautiful star, he may not say things like that but you feel it from his touch, from his look, from every way he treats you. You look down shyly, holding his hand entwined in yours, huge and tattooed and ever so strong, always making you feel safe.

Safe and at home.

“I want to go to Fiji every year, will you promise me?” Your words make his heart race now, like it’s about to thump out of his chest, he takes a breath now, unable to form a word. “That sounds spoiled, oh my god!”

“No, it doesn’t. And I want you to be spoiled, anyway…” He trails off, tugging at you again. “Come on.”

Thinking you’ve said too much, you’re just a little quiet as he walks you further down the beach, your bare feet now making little trails along the sand, the breeze making you shiver just a bit, Sukuna wraps a big arm around you then. You rest your head, enjoying his warmth, as the two of you quietly walk, it feels so different than your usual.

Usually Sukuna is calling you a brat and teasing you, and you’re giggling and calling him Kuna, both poking at each other, but there are times of quiet, like at night when you’re reading, and he holds you, just laying there and watching you. You asked why he was so interested sometimes, but he never answers, just watching you and stroking your hair instead.

In quiet, contemplative moments, you feel such peace with him it’s difficult to describe. When you took a strip job, you expected drama, stress, perhaps feeling hard on yourself - you never expected to fall in love with one of the owners. Never thought a man so powerful would fall for you, that you would get the attention of a man like Sukuna, and what a man he truly was.

You aren’t afraid of the quick connection, not a bit, it should be scary, but you’re open to learning more about him - his past, bit by bit. Who he was, just scratching the surface of some of the things you all have just started sharing. His past, how he became who he was, as he learns more about you, the family dynamics of each of you clearly weren’t the best growing up.

But that just makes the two of you more ready to create a beautiful life for Touma, in months Sukuna has gone above and beyond what Naoya ever did, in this time he made you feel beautiful again, safe, loved. The connection was so intense it was as if Sukuna was his own sun, and you’re a planet just being pulled constantly, his brightness endlessly addictive.

You never, ever want to let go, never want to leave his field of gravity, you never want to know what it is like him and Touma are just your world, and you can’t help but be excited for the future. He speaks of filling you up, having babies while you’re lovemaking, but you know he’s kinky - god he is a force in the bed that you’re not sure you’ll ever adjust to - but was it more?

Imagining having a baby gets you heated, the thoughts so insane - though you were still very much on the pill, it’s not something you all haven’t spoken of yet, far too early for it you’re sure. But the timeline on your love was insane, it was not something you could explain, the amount of insane love you all have for each other, the ease in being with him, the passion and devotion.

“You’re quiet, too.” He says, pulling you out of your thoughts, and he looks down at you then, you’re so lost in his eyes you don’t notice the pretty gazebo set up for the two of you, when he cups your face and leans down. “Thoughts, what is going on in that pretty head?”

“They’re about… babies…” Sukuna exhales then, leaning down and kissing you, tugging you close in his embrace as you tremble, body aching for him.

“Mmm, fuck you’re gonna distract me.”

“From what, silly?” You tease, nipping at his lower lip.

Would he have to propose with cum pouring out of your pretty hole? You needed to stop messing with him before that was your engagement memory. He takes a breath and stands so tall, tilting his hair, the pink softly shining under the moonlight with glittery strands that you ache to run your fingers through.

“Stop staring at me and look.” He has to turn you now, you gasp as you see it - the beautiful set up he’s made for you.

The gazebo is all lit up with strings of fairy lights waving gently in the breeze, hidden in a little cove all tucked away, ivy climbing up the sides of it making it like some fucking movie you’d dream up. He helps you step up to it now as you take it all in, a table with two chairs and wine chilling on top of it, two glasses ready for the both of you.

“Sukuna, how did I not see this earlier!?” You whisper, touching the table gently, eyeing him then, choking up with emotions.

“Crying already?” He teases gruffly, touching your cheek gently now, you exhale nervously, eyes filling up when he picks up the pretty black bottle and the glittering gold corkscrew, opening it with a pop as you look around, seeing the view of the beach from higher up, the pretty reflections glimmering.

“Oh god it’s so perfect here, you didn’t have to do this!” You take the glass of wine from his proffered hand, fingers brushing against each other, Sukuna is still quiet but he smirks just a bit, taking his glass and turning you.

“Do you like it here, brat?” His voice is soft as he holds you with one arm, his chin resting on your head, facing you toward the pretty serene picture in front of you.

“Like is not the word, I’m in love with it. Paradise with you.” You expect him to chuckle or tease, but he’s quiet, sighing now, sipping his drink as you pick up yours, big hard body so strong behind you.

You're overwhelmed by the beauty and thoughtfulness of it all, your heart racing when he eases back, pressing a kiss on your neck, watching the goosebumps rise on your soft skin. “Pretty sure paradise is that pretty pussy.”

“Kuna! The moment!” Sukuna laughs just a bit, but your body already responded, and he takes notice of it, humming softly and slipping a hand down your waist and hip, exhaling and tickling your ear.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and leads you back into the gazebo. You take a seat, looking at how the soft lights glimmer across the crystal glass filled with the sweet red wine. 

“How did you set this up?” You ask softly, leaning forward, your hand on one of his strong thighs over his black pants, he smirks a bit, thighs wide.

“I had Miwa help me. She’s loving her pay increase.”

“She sure is!” You laugh a bit and kiss him once more, thumb brushing across his lower lip. “This is perfect.”

“It’s… I… you…”

Shit.

Shit.

Shit!?

Not Sukuna getting nervous, no, no, no that can’t happen. You’re blinking a bit, looking so beautiful you make him want to speak the stupidest, corniest words, you’re a woman they would pen poems for - but Sukuna was not doing that. He couldn’t describe you in any words, he was a man of actions, of kissing you until you can’t speak, of pleasuring your pretty body until you’re a mess under him.

Sukuna doesn’t know how to say it, how to go about it, even though he has planned this for a week, he can’t function suddenly, not watching the wind sweep your hair, the silk dancing on your skin. Torn between eating you up right on this table and panicking, he can’t figure out how he does this!?

He hates romantic movies, so he can’t remember one for shit, and you do deserve all of this, Fiji, the gazebo, the expensive wine, and the fucking ring. It’s your first ‘date’ and he’s proposing, is it too insane? He’s trying to talk himself up, play it in his head, but nothing works then and there, except kneeling between your thighs, making you heat up.

He knows how to do one thing, and that’s fuck you, eat you, make you feel so fucking good, easier than words. Sukuna bends down, pressing kisses along your bere thighs where your kimono parts, you gasp at the sensations, setting down your wine as he kisses higher and higher. He feels your heat against his lips, groaning, lips pressing higher as your hips shift.

“Is this why you brought me out here? To taste me?” Your words almost take him out, he groans a bit, pressing a hungry kiss right where your cunt is over your shorts, and you’re gripping his broad shoulders with a cry.

“No, not just that.” He pulls back then, sighing, eyeing you so seriously you pause then, blinking.

“Kuna, is everything okay? You seem-”

“You’re going to marry me, brat.” He’s scowling now, you think you must have misheard him, mouth dropping when he reaches in his pocket, your eyes widen so big it’s almost comical to him, as he clears his throat.

“Huh? You… oh! Oh!? Oh?” You’re covering your mouth when Sukuna’s pulling out that box, it feels unreal, you never thought you’d feel this, hear this, when he pulls it open you get a glimpse of a diamond prettier than anything you’ve ever seen, like the moonlight itself, leaving you speechless.

“It’s not up for discussion.” He says angrily, and you realize he’s up on one knee now, your entire body is shaking as you try to collect your thoughts. “You are going to be my wife, got it?”

You laugh and cry suddenly, a mix of emotions that are unstable, leaving Sukuna to stare at you, red eyes narrowing. “You aren’t asking?” You manage then, holding your chest as it heaves from your insane sobs/laughs, unsure of how to describe the huge, buff man telling you that you’re his wife.

It’s so Sukuna.

“I already know the answer, so.” He’s scared shitless, watching as you break down in front of him, trying to keep his act up, glaring even deeper at you now as he takes out the ring. “Hand, now.”

“Oh my god is this actually…” He snatches up your shaking hand, slipping the ring on now, acting like he’s not shaking just as badly as you, clearing his throat.

“I’ll hear no arguing brat, you’re marrying me. The kid can take my name too, I’ll adopt him and-” You knock Sukuna over, pouncing on him now, and careening the two of you to the wooden floor, covered in a soft plush rug the same color as the pretty sand all around you, lips all over his.

Sukuna moans then, exhaling in relief, feeling your salty tears falling against his own cheeks, his big hands coming to your waist, when you finally pull up for air, lip trembling so hard you have to bite it, eyes glimmering with tears. He sighs now, slipping his hands back as he looks up at the girl he loves, feeling every movement as she lays on top of him.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Sukuna. In what world wouldn’t I choose you?” Sukuna exhales, shutting his eyes and feeling his own stupid tears threaten, when you rest your forehead on his, and your breaths mingle in the night.

“Good, knew it.” He manages, with a shaky breath, and you’re giggling again, while tears keep falling. “Are you crying or laughing, hmm?”

“Both.”

“Am I funny to you?”

“No, Sukuna…” You lean up, straddling him then, as he moans, hands slipping up your waist. “You’re perfect.”

Sukuna sits up now, dragging your heat against him as he kisses you, tongue sweeping inside your mouth, devouring you so desperately, you cling to him, rolling your hips and whining out.

“Fuck, I need you baby,” his husky declaration is met with him holding you up, yanking your shorts to the side and almost ripping the material, while his mouth drags across your breasts. “Now.”

“Yes, sir.” You end him always, he is almost cumming in his pants as you yank them down with an eager tug. Sukuna grips your ass while you stroke his huge, thick length, the veins bulging, that precum oozing all along his piercing, he whimpers when you roll your finger on it. “My fiance.”

“Your fucking fiance.” He laughs softly with you then, dragging your cunt along his length and letting you grind on it, while he’s tugging at that silk kimono, mouth only leaving yours to kiss your throat, bite your collarbone, drag his tongue across your neck hungrily, cunt soaking him more and more. “Take it baby.”

You can’t when he does this, when he gives you the reins, cunt so wet you can hardly stand it, so slick when you pull back and grab his cock, he eases right in, though the stretch burns, it’s so fucking good. You scream out, head falling back when Sukuna finds your clit between your bodies, watching you bounce up and down his length, groaning as he sees the bulge in your tummy, holding your shorts aside.

“That’s it, take it all, sexy little fucking slut. My pretty slut, aren’t you?” You shake your head, slamming down hard then and bottoming out as much of his cock as you can, making him inhale sharply.

“Fiance.” You whisper, only making him moan again, lifting you and dragging you back down his cock, eating up every scream echoing in the little hidden paradise, while your slick, gummy walls grip him, and he’s pressing that spot over and over, watching you fall apart for him.

“Keep going, slutty little fiance. Ride me like you know you can, huh? So fucking good, feel that pretty pussy.” He’s rolling his thumb again, pushing you over the edge and pinning you down with an arm around you, rocking you on him. “That’s it, cum all over me, fuck… look at you…”

“Kuna!” You scream out his name, eyes rolling back, a line of drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth, clit spasming as your cunt pulses, gripping him so good he can’t stop his own soft cries, just urging you on. “In me, cum in me please…”

“Gonna put another baby right in you, you want it?” You nod eagerly, sniffling as he rides out your orgasm, finally releasing his rough thumb from your clit, as you collapse on him, clinging as he clings to you, flipping you over finally, pressing you down against the rug. “How many should I give you?”

“So m-many babies, ngh!” Sukuna shoves your thighs up, pressing heavy weight on you, shoving his cock so deep as he pauses then, seeing your hair flowing underneath you, eyes so dilated they’re black, your lips swollen from his kisses, neck decorated with glistening teeth marks.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” His soft words in the midst of getting your cunt railed further prove just how much of his duality fills you then, as he exhales and kisses your forehead softly, inhaling and exhaling.

“I love you, Kuna. I c-can’t - ah! Wait to… marry y-you,” your words are broken up with cries and kisses, your hands slipping up under the hot skin of his muscled back, feeling him as he moves, one hand on the back of your thigh as the other braces himself over you, and you’re so full you can hardly stand it, feeling his cock throb. “Please, please…”

“Fuck, I’ll give you anything, brat, any fucking thing.” Sukuna slams in one more time, filling your needy cunt, and god she sucks him up, those walls gripping his cock like a vise and milking him, when you both stare at each others’ eyes in the nights, unfocused and blurry, while he fills your hole so much it pours out.

“Oh god, Kuna!” You’re crying again, while he picks you up, holding you against his chest, still intimately connected, kissing every inch of your body he can reach, as he strokes his hands up and down your body. “We’re getting married!?”

“Fuck yes, no choice in it.” You roll your eyes, giggling.

“The most aggressive proposal ever- ah!” Sukuna slams back up into your cunt, making your eyes lock up to his, while he smirks, raising a brow.

“Running that mouth like that, think I’m fucking done yet?”

******

Two months later

You and Sukuna run this city, walking side by side, heels clicking along the floors of the club, one of Sukuna’s arms around you as you take in the club, currently renovated. Sukuna allowed you all creative vision, and an endless budget, and you have transformed it into a cabaret style club, of course it offered all the scantily clad dancers and opportunities as before, but a little different.

The feel of it was straight out of the nineteen twenties, a speakeasy run - funny enough - by mobsters themselves. To celebrate such an occasion, Sukuna has donned an old style pinstripe suit and a bowler hat, and you’re in a pretty little flapper dress, tassels silver and glimmering, glowing like the day he met you, saw you, as a million soft red lights dance across your skin.

The strippers are wearing draped pearl necklaces between their breasts, men are given the finest cigars, you see then all of your friends. They are your friends, truly, Satoru, Suguru, Choso and Toji, along with women all over, including your friend who is draped over Satoru currently, giggling in his ear.

Their eyes go to you both as you waltz in, they’re gathered around the large round table with stacks of cards and poker chips, all dressed up to the nines, you couldn’t describe it better than you’d stepped back a century. To see it all come together, you’re emotional, and Sukuna senses it, hand big and comforting on your back.

“How do you like all the work the brat did, hmm?” He gets a nudge and a glare, saying your name instead with a chuckle, before sitting down at the table and yanking you down on his thigh, right where you belong.

“It’s insanely hot.” Satoru says then, grinning over at you, he looks quite dashing as one would say back then… well, you think.

“It’s amazing, really, gonna have even more business.” Toji says, patting your shoulder as you flush under the praise.

“I was thinking it’s something unique, a cut above the rest. We’re not just any ordinary club you know.” Sukuna yanks you even closer against him now, wrapping his big arm around your waist, hand gripping the side of your thigh as you cross your legs and look back at him. “We’re special.”

“We are.” He gruffly agrees, kissing you softly, while the waitresses serve, and the bartenders spin bottles, the dancers undulating, the shot girls serving with a smile, all dressed up and moving to the old jazz of a time long past.

“It’s perfect.” You say, he sighs now, nodding, red eyes lit up.

“It needed your touch.” You giggle, breathless, cupping his face as he turns you back to face the table, leaning over it now. “Deal us in.”

“Shit, you’re playing?” Suguru asks, raising a dark brow. “You’re shit at poker Sukuna.”

“She’s great at it, also fuck you I am not shit, you are.” Everyone laughs, as Satoru pouts, staring at his cards now, as his girl leans over and he glares.

“No peeking!”

“Your cards are shit I bet.” Satoru flips Toji off for that, as he grins, girl on his lap, puffing on a cigar. “Now my cards are good.”

“If they were that good you wouldn’t reveal your hand.” Choso waves smoke out of his face, opting to light a blunt instead, as you take a sip of a drink one of the shot girls hand you, smiling and thanking her.

“He’s right, never reveal your cards.” You say softly, taking your own now, and not showing a damn reaction, because you have a fucking full house. You just blink and remain normal, and Sukuna eyes them, then you.

“Poker face, who knew?”

“Shh!” You smack at him, just making him chuckle. The phone dings, and you peek to see Touma is asleep, you show Sukuna the picture and he sighs, pressing a kiss on your cheek now. “He’s so cute isn’t he?”

“He told me, he wanted a little sister you know.” His words send sparks through your body, heat against his strong thigh then, the words making you disoriented.

“Oh, he did?” You try to act casual, but he hears the softness in your voice, the longing, while the men around the circle start playing their hands.

“You like that idea, don’t you? Should we work on making one?” His whisper is too much, you lay your cards out then as everyone looks at you in shock.

“Full house!” You exclaim, standing, Sukuna’s sitting there chuckling as you gather all the chips, and he gets the perfect view of your ass in this flapper dress, hugging your curves. His hands slip up and you damn near squeak.

“We just started!?” Satoru angrily pouts again, throwing down his cards. “No fair! Re deal them out.”

“Gonna have to count us out.” Sukuna says, standing and feeling your trembling body in front of him, as everyone rolls their eyes.

“Oh go on then.” That was just about everyone, while Sukuna drags you into his office, and slams you against the door, kissing you over and over as he slips up your dress, and you’re already soaking between your thighs, whining out.

“Got you that excited, hmm, brat?” He whispers, picking you up then, pressing you against the door as he locks it, your hands clinging to his jacket, nodding desperately, grinding your hips and making him moan. “Then throw out your birth control.”

“Shit, really?” He chuckles, kissing down your throat, your breasts, picturing them full, gripping one and making you cry out.

“Yes, really, gonna make you a mommy, fuck…” You’re getting carried over to his desk now, hovering over you, hat falling and making you giggle, sitting it on your head, making him moan. “Gotta be so sexy… god I can’t wait to fill you up.” He’s kneeling then, spreading your thighs, shock of pink hair entangled in your hands as he kisses up your inner thigh now.

“You’re gonna be a daddy Kuna - ah!” Your giggle is cut off with a bite right over your clit, ruby eyes glinting up at you, while your bare thighs are thrown over his strong shoulders.

“Say that again, I swear to god brat.” You’re covering your giggle, even though the music is still blaring in the club, cunt getting soaking wet under your panties, his hot tongue making the thin lace into nothing, as his dark nails sink into the plush of your thighs, and your head falls back.

“Gonna punish me daddy Kuna?”

“That’s it.” Sukuna has flipped you now, ass up, smacking you so hard it echoes, stinging and making you yelp.

“Get back down there!” You pout, gasping when you hear his belt unbuckle, feeling two fingers sink right inside your slick cunt, eliciting a filthy moan.

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson, brat.” He kisses up your neck, gripping your dress and shoving it higher, as your whines just make him ache more to fill you. “Fill you so much you won’t be able to walk.”

You’ve gotten him going, and you can’t stop your grin when he tilts your head to him, piercing on his tip slipping between your folds, and his glare falters at just how pretty his fiance is like this.

“You do this on purpose, don’t you?” He whispers, your giggle is cut off when he stretches you, filling you so perfectly, as his hand lifts your thigh, pulling back and sinking deeper, while a tattooed hand grips your throat.

“Maybe I do.” He kisses you then, shoving all the way inside you, the perfect, perfect fit for him. “Kuna…”

“I love you, brat.” He huffs, biting your bare shoulder and thrusting, so deep inside, you’re gasping at how much he’s stuffing you, filling you, not sure you can ever get used to it. “Can’t wait to fill this perfect pussy so full.”

“L-love you, w-want it Kuna, fill me - mnh!” Your words are cut off by cries and a brutal kiss, as the man you love ruins you again and again, owns you and claims you, and makes you his with every bite and mark.

But with each sharp thrust are softer ones, kisses, whispers of love, and that is just one of the many reasons you adore your Kuna, the conundrum he is, a mobster, a lover, a violent but gentle man, a step dad and perhaps one day he’d have babies with you.

“Gonna get you pregnant tonight.”

“Oh y-yeah?” He laughs softly, kissing you again.

“You’re so cute, fuck… yeah, brat.” He’s lifting you again, turning you to face him, kissing you as his hands take you over, and your thighs shake on either side of his hips, moaning as he pulls back to look down at your pretty face. “No way you’re not getting pregnant once I’m done with you.”

“Please, Kuna, mnh!” You fall into each other, and Sukuna makes sure to pump as many loads into you, while the cabaret goes on, and your outfits are wrinkled and strewn around his office, ignoring any knocks and laughing softly. Somewhere there are cheers, shouts and laughter as the new version of the club kicks off…

But the two of you are in your own little world.

I hope you enjoyed their end, I rly loved writing Modern Kuna in a fic for the first time (aside from oneshots!) I'd love to write him againnn. See you in the next one <3

Taglist #1- @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua @mai-505 @suguru-nugget

[rowdydevs]

Is it possible if we could have any more dilf!rafe and milf!reader? Im literally obsessed with the family dynamic atm!!

Hi bb 💕💕💕 of course!! Thank you for your ask. This story is meant to be read either alone or with the rest of the au. Thank you for your ask!!

+18 -> smut | on prom night, a very protective rafe wrestles with old grudges, growing pains, and the realization that letting go might be the hardest part.

𝓭𝓲𝓵𝓯!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝔁 𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓯!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: pet names, swearing, praise, dirty talk, fingering, cum tasting, older rafe, roughish, semi-public male oral <- in a car with tinted windows, he is driving, intentional texting errors, ⚠︎ smut cross-posted on my nhl account. ⚠︎

cameron kids= Max (18), Winnie (17), Rory + Poppy (4)

You’re standing out in the front yard with your camera, doing everything you can not to cry while your daughter twirls around in her prom dress—glowing, radiant, almost too beautiful to look at.

Her boyfriend’s got his arm around her waist, holding her like it’s second nature. They keep catching each other’s eyes and laughing over nothing, cheeks bumping, sneaking little kisses between whatever secret they’re whispering like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

It’s sweet. It’s perfect. And honestly? It’s a little brutal. Because no matter how grown she looks, she’s still your baby.

Your husband’s next to you, taking pictures with his phone, but you can see it clear as day—he’s tense. His smile is forced, fingers stiff around the edges of his phone. He hasn’t said more than two words to JJ, who’s mere feet away. It’s awkward… painfully so. But what’s new between the two of them? Your husband never forgot how much he hated him. And now? Now that guy’s kid is dating his baby girl.

It’s hard to imagine this would be a bigger deal… And it would be, if the kid wasn’t a literal angel: polite, gentle, thoughtful, smart; a D1-bound quarterback. He’s good. But try telling Rafe that.

Your daughter squeals, adjusting her corsage, leaning into her boyfriend with the biggest grin on her face as the limos pull up. She gasps, eyes snapping to you. “Oh my God. Mom, I forgot my clutch!”

You look over at Rafe, lost in his own world as he looks between the young couple and his archenemy, going through his own existential crisis; jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together like this is all somehow a personal attack on him. “Baby…”

“Mhmm…” He grunts as his eyes continue to survey the scene.

“… Baby?”

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, meeting your eyes before drawing a deep, pensive breath.

“Just take a second. Take a breath… Get the purse.”

He gives you a look, lips drawing to the side, wanting to protest like he’s afraid if he lets his guard down for a moment the thoughts that he’s been stewing on will manifest. “Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, then turns and stomps toward the house.

You watch him disappear through the front door, then turn back to your daughter. The yard is buzzing with excitement, teens gathering their things as they wander toward the rented cars.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

You look down at your phone, rolling your eyes as you see three back-to-back text messages coming in. “Where’s the purse, baby?” You mock his deep voice under your breath as you unlock your phone. Not surprised in the slightest that he’s stalling to prolong the inevitable.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

The twins are bouncing with excitement, already changed into their pajamas, stuffed animals hugged tight.

Sarah’s in the kitchen grabbing snacks for movie night, laughing as your son climbs all over him like he’s part jungle gym, part superhero. Meanwhile, your daughter’s standing off to the side, arms crossed, Cameron-pout on full display—a full-blown daddy’s girl—not thrilled in the slightest about him leaving.

“C’mon now,” Rafe says, gently tugging her closer. “Be right back, princess. I’ll kiss you on the head when I get home, okay? I’ll be there in the mornin’ when you wake up.”

She narrows her little eyes at him, her buttoned-nose furrowed in frustration.

“I heard mommy’s makin’ blueberry pancakes for breakfast,” Rafe adds as he cocks an eyebrow, hoping for the best, his smile widening as her face lights up over something so simple.

“No way.”

“Way.”

“I am?” you ask through a laugh as you loop your arm through your purse, pulling it on your shoulder.

“She is,” Rafe confirms, shooting you a smile and wink. “Isn’t she the best?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as he kisses your daughter’s forehead and sends her off.

The you both step outside into the quiet; the cobblestone driveway glowing under soft light. Rafe reaches for your hand as the front door clicks shut behind you. You barely get a step down the private lot before he loops his finger under your dress and tugs the hem upward with a cocky smirk.

“Rafe!” You gasp, swatting his hand as your skirt falls back down, looking back toward the house with a smile.

“They didn’t see, pretty,” he murmurs, totally unbothered. “Besides I needed a distraction. My brain was spiraling again.”

“You’re not gonna lift my dress every time you start panicking about your daughter growing up.”

“I mean…” He steps a little closer, stuffing his hand in his pocket, the other draping around your shoulders as he dips down to press a kiss on your head. “I could just pull it down next time, get a glimpse of these,” he hums, reaching over to give your boob a playful squeeze, “for balance.” He lets out a sleazy little laugh as you giggle.

Rafe spins you around and pulls you in for a kiss: deep and sweet. The kind that says ‘sure, I might be losing my shit, but you’re my favorite way to come back down’. He opens the passenger door for you, still grinning as you slide into the car.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

The two of you sit side by side at a table on the water. The twinkling lights strung from the patio of the Island Club swaying in the breeze. Dinner was delicious, drinks were flowing, and Rafe… was present.

You could see it in the way he stared out at the water for a second too long. The way he blinked back to you like he’d just remembered where he was, and even so he wasn’t deep in thought. Almost like he wasn’t clenching his fists or checking his phone every two seconds or trying to crack a joke to distract himself from the ache in his heart.

But even still, he was there with you. Holding your hand, letting you finish your wine without interruption. He ordered your favorite appetizer before you could, stole bites from your plate like it was his job, kissing you tenderly after every lingered glance.

At one point, you were both leaned back in your chairs, full and content, watching the last sliver of sun bleed into the horizon when he said, “She told me they’re headin’ to Lexi’s after prom.”

“She did?”

He nods, sipping his drink. “She didn’t need to tell me that… She’s seventeen. Fuck, baby, I mean I woulda lied for the hell of it. I sure as shit wouldn’t have told Ward where I was goin’. And she just told me—didn’t even need to ask.”

“Yeah, baby?” You hum as you tip your head on his shoulder; Rafe’s fingers twinning in yours. “What else did she say?”

“Bonfire, snacks; some movie, I don’t know.”

“What about Jackson? Are juniors and seniors gonna be there?” You question this time, feeling your own unease rise about her possibly mingling with upperclassmen.

“Just juniors. She said ‘he didn’t care… He just wanted to be with her.’”

“Sounds familiar,” you smile as you squeeze Rafe’s hand.

He gives you a look—the one he always does when he’s caught remembering being seventeen with you. “Hmm… Sounds about as much, sweetheart.”

“They’re sweet,” you say quietly as you snuggle in a little closer. “We raised a good one, Rafe.”

“She’s everything,” he breathes. “My stubbornness and your heart—”

“We get to do this all over again in a couple years.”

He groans like it hurt, but he smiles anyway. “Twins too… Better start stocking up on wine now.”

You glance down at your phone, thumb tapping the screen as you check the time. It’s late enough. The twins are definitely asleep by now—if not completely passed out in a pile of stuffies and blankets, at the very least curled up on the couch mid-movie with drool on Auntie Sarah’s shoulder.

You look at Rafe, swirling the last sip of his whiskey, that lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he sees the twinkle in your eye; the man no doubt thinking about taking off the lingerie you teased him with earlier.

“So?” You ask, soft and suggestive as your foot brushes against his under the table.

“That time, huh?” He smiles as he pulls out his phone as well, checking it.

His brows furrow slightly. The smirk slips a little. Not in a full-blown way, just enough to make your stomach flip.

“What?” You ask as you lean in. “Did Sarah send something?” Rafe doesn’t answer right away. “What’s going on, baby?” You press again; still no answer.

You reach across the table and snatch the phone from his hand before he can stop you. Your eyes flick to the screen to check what’s going on, eyes widening on the screen as you see the flashing pin on a tracking app. And your daughter’s car, not where she said she’d be.

You stare down at his phone, then up at him. “Why are you tracking her, Rafe?”

“I don’t just track her, sweetheart. I track Max too… It’s a scary place out there, okay? Ya’ll are all I have,” he stammers. He takes a deep breath, blowing it out his nostrils as he tries his best to collect himself. “I’m trackin’ her because of this—”

“—Because she’s at the beach?” You question, letting your annoyance bleed through each word.

“She didn’t tell us she was going to the beach,” he says, voice tight. “So yeah, baby—that’s why I’m doin’ it.”

“Well, what now?”

Rafe tilts back in his chair, pushing out a shaky, uneven breath. “Guess we’re takin’ a trip to the beach—”

“Rafe…”

“If anything we’ll check and leave—”

“—Baby.”

“We will check. And, we will leave.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your purse. Rafe stands and tosses some cash on the table before looking down at you.

“Nothing more, baby. I swear. I’m not gonna enjoy my night if I don’t know that she’s safe. Just a piece of mind.”

“And what if you see something you don’t wanna see?”

He stops in his tracks looking at you like you just dropped a weight on his chest. “What do you mean by that?”

You arch a brow as you take his hand, rising to your feet. “I mean… you found a condom wrapper in her bathroom, Rafe. So again—I ask—what if you see something you don’t wanna see?”

Rafe runs a hand down his face, letting out a long, deep breath. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

The two of you pull into the quiet parking lot, headlights cutting through the soft fog that’s rolled in off the water. It’s dark but not deserted—distant voices, the occasional pop of laughter, the soft flicker of firelight down by the shore.

Rafe leans forward, squinting out the windshield. “They’re probably hidin’ somewhere,” he mutters, tone edged with something sharp. “Thinkin’ he’s bein’ slick.”

“Mhmm…” You flick your hand lazily in their direction, spotting them almost instantly, right in plain sight.

The two of them are sat side by side in front of a small fire, shoes kicked off, a blanket pulled over both their legs. Winnie’s head tilted on Jackson’s shoulder.

Rafe exhales through his nose, and it’s not quite relief, but it’s not disappointment, either. And at that moment you realize he didn’t want to be right—he just didn’t want to be wrong either. You take out your phone, open your messages, and type:

You: Hope you’re having a good night sweetie. Be safe.

Barely ten seconds pass before your daughter’s phone lights up on the sand. You see her glance down at the screen, smile, and start typing back. Then your phone buzzes.

Winnie: we’re having a great night!

Winnie: we left the party because it got kinda crazy. Jax was worried it might get busted.

Winnie: we’re down to the beach

Another second later, she sends a selfie—her cheek pressed against Jackson’s, both of them grinning, firelight flickering. No red cups. No chaos. Just two kids who genuinely like each other, making a smart choice together.

Rafe’s jaw ticks as he looks at the photo. He leans back in his seat, sighing as the guilt hits him square in the chest.

“Goddamnit.”

“Mhmm…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just—I don’t know. This shit is hard,” he huffs.

You smile and reach over, lacing your fingers in his. “Why don’t we get out of here, baby… Go for a little drive on our way home.”

Rafe nods and pulls out of the lot, his jaw set, one hand tight on the wheel as the silence stretches between you. The engine hums low, but he doesn’t say a word.

He’s still wound up—his whole body carrying the weight of everything he’s been trying to hold back. The guilt, the stress, the slow ache of watching his little girl grow up. On top of that, work’s been brutal lately, you know it’s been eating at him, even if he won’t say it out loud.

You watch him quietly, the way the dim streetlights flicker across his profile: strong jaw, furrowed brow, tie loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up over his thick forearms you’ll never get tired of looking at.

Even tense like this, he’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—and all you can think about is how badly you want to help him relax.

He glances over at you, still high-strung, blue eyes heavy with thoughts he hasn’t shared quite yet. He shifts in his seat, spreading his thighs a little wider, fabric stretching over them—and your gaze drops without hesitation.

Your breath hitches. All you can think about is straddling him right there in the front seat, grinding against him with your skirt bunched around your waist, the windows fogging, and music muffling your moans—

“What’re you thinking about, baby?” He asks, voice low.

You turn to him slowly, letting your voice drop into something warm and wicked. “You.”

His eyes flick to yours in surprise. “You’re thinkin’ about me?” He says, almost like he doesn’t believe it himself, half-expecting to be in that doghouse you were talking about earlier.

You smile, reach for his hand resting on the console, and guide it toward you. He exhales sharply, shoulders finally starting to drop, the tension melting into something else entirely. “You’re not mad at me, princess?”

You shake your head. “No, baby. I like when you’re protective. Can’t fault you for that. Maybe just calm down a little… Just a little.”

“Anything for you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with want.

“Wanna help you forget all those thoughts distracting you from me…”

“Distracting me from you? My girl? Impossible… But, please,” he says with a smirk, “make me forget.”

You lift his hand from your thigh, slowly, and press a kiss to the top of it—light and teasing, just like he would.

Then, with your eyes still on him, you part your lips and slip two thick fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tips. Rafe’s breath catches. He flicks another glance at you, then another, making the car sway gently.

You reach over, trailing your hand down his chest, feeling the heat and tension thrumming through his body. Your nails drag lightly down his shirt’s crisp, white fabric until you hit his thigh, scratching just enough to earn a quiet exhale from him.

Your fingers graze over his bulge—growing thick and heavy beneath his designer pants—and he shifts again, jaw clenched tighter, not from stress, solely to keep his eyes on the road and avoid them rolling back.

You lean in closer, the scent of his rich cologne washing over you. Your fingers work open his belt. The metal clicks softly before you slide the zipper down. Your heart pounds with the bass, excitement swelling in your chest as he barrels through the night.

He shifts in his seat, lifting his hips so he can shove his pants and boxers down. “You sure, baby?” He asks through a crooked smile as you grip his thick dick in your fist—hardening fast in your palm, long, pulsing with need.

Your mouth waters as you stroke him slow, teasing, your thumb brushing over the head. “I need it… Is that alright?” You ask coyly. Rafe’s cock twitches in your grip, his breath stuttering as you swipe your thumb across his tip, rubbing in a bead of precum.

“Fuck,” he moans as his head rolls slightly.

“You like that?” You ask.

“Yeah… Yeah, fuck. Keep goin’,” he mumbles, his eyes on the road, but barely.

Rafe reaches over; fingers slipping under your dress. He groans at how wet you are, teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of his fingers inside. The pace you set with your hand mirrors his—slow and purposeful, a shared rhythm that leaves you both panting.

Click.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and slide across the center console. Before he can even register what’s happening, next you take him into your mouth; his cock hot and heavy on your warm tongue.

Rafe’s whole body jerks. He draws his fingers from between your thighs, slicked with your wetness, and sucks them into his mouth, the corners of his lips curling into a smile at the taste.

“Jesus Christ, baby…” His voice is thick and hoarse. “You’re perfect. Too fuckin’ good to me.” His hand comes down hard on your ass, the sting sharp, and your moan vibrates around him as he spanks you.

A second later, his fingers knot in your hair, guiding you, controlling your pace. “Atta girl,” he groans, hips lifting gently. “Fuckin’ take it—so desperate, huh? Couldn’t wait ‘til we got home?”

You hum in response, lips and tongue working him while your hand strokes what your mouth can’t reach. His moans start spilling out, competing with the music in the car.

“Gonna make me lose it,” he pants. “That’s what you want, huh? Gonna swallow it all? Don’t wanna get dirty, baby—” he mumbles, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as his leg bounces beneath your hands, breath rough and ragged, chest rising faster now.

“Shit, baby… I’m gonna cum—” You suck him harder, throating his cock until he’s cursing and twitching, praising your name as he slams his big fist against the steering wheel, spilling down your throat.

His body unwinds in the seat and his hold loosens on your hair. You pull off slowly, watching his cock throb still as he tucks himself in the waistband of his dress pants, hissing in sensitivity as he zips back up his pants, covering himself slightly with his jacket. He shakes his head, unable to wipe that wide smile off his perfect lips.

You sit up and smooth your hair in the visor mirror, licking your lips, catching the last of him as you giggle dizzily. He chuckles, low and lazy, as he rolls his head on the headrest, locking eyes with you. “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

And then just as you lean over to press one last kiss on his lips the car’s screen lights up with an incoming call.

Deputy Shoupe

Rafe fumbles and swears under his breath on his way to accept the call, already assuming the worst. “Shoupe? Everything okay?”

“Rafe. We got a little situation down at the yacht club. Someone called in a report—female screamin’. Thought it might be a domestic or worse. Turns out… Uh, well… We found your son and that Thornton girl entangled on your yacht.”

Rafe freezes; eyes beating a few times slow as he takes it all in. “Max?”

“Yes, sir. A bag of weed, a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle, and a pocket full of Magnums—”

“—Dude. You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me right now,” your son snips as he cuts the officer off. “You’re seriously cockblockin’ me? This is harassment. We’re on my boat. S’Private property. I can’t help it if we got a little loud, alright? That’s between me and her.”

“I’m fine… Obviously,” Topper’s daughter sasses as well, her Cali-girl, vocal fry that pours through the car speakers like nails on a chalkboard.

Rafe’s jaw is locked, one vein in his temple pulsing so hard you can practically hear it. Rafe stares straight ahead, dead silent.

“You gonna arrest us for lovin’ each other now? Is that where this country’s at? You people are fuckin’ sick—”

“Tell him to stop talkin’,” Rafe sneers.

“Want me to tase him a little?” Shoupe chuckles.

Rafe mutters something under his breath making Shoupe laugh. There’s a beat of silence as you stare at Rafe, your husband staring right back at you. His features soften—the man hit with yet another wave of guilt—he was so hyper focused on your daughter that everything else flew out the window.

“It’s okay, baby,” you whisper.

He shakes his head ‘no’ and rolls his eyes, tipping his head back against the headrest.

“What do you two want me to do about all this?” Shoupe asks through another amused laugh.

“Fuck… Bring ’em into the station. Take the weed if you have to,” Rafe adds. “Leave the bottle.” You raise your brows at him and he just shrugs. “Kid’s a pain in my ass but he’s got good taste,” he mumbles. “I’ll be there in two-three hours,” Rafe finishes. “Got some shit I need to handle first.”

“Copy that.”

Click.

“We’re not gonna go get him?” You ask through a laugh as you glance back at Rafe.

He smirks, letting his hand slide higher up your thigh. “He’ll survive, baby. Might even learn somethin’… Right now, I need to take care of my girl.”

@rafesthroatbaby | @matthewssweetheart | @slut-4-rafey | @blair-bears-blog | @iikximii | @akobx | @gri959 | @ch4rrykisses | @st8rkey | @laniirackssss | @barnesboo1967 | @justdamnpeachy | @dylsdaily| @rafesheaven | @my-name-is-baby | @wtfisastiles | @skye-44 @taliescapes | @anothershorthuman | @rafeslovergirly | @vanessa-rafesgirl | @maybankslover | @frankoceanluvr11 | @rcameronlova1 | @lhhlver | @yourmomdotcom42069 | @cameronsprincess | @kdoll-7 | @angelicameron | @imsiriuslyreal | @alphabetically-deranged | @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account | @hyperfixationgirl | @faephoria | @wtfdudesblog | @rafesdoll | @yasmin-oviedo | @lizzysmith110 | @ietss | @livie4lifestarkeyblyth | @lilithblackkk | @premiumshitt | @littlelamy | @prettybabyyyy | @star017 | @hannieskzzz | @biascriptum | @laylalovesbmth | @aris-void | @rafesbabygirlx

[classjezter]

I love your megastar sparkling! Those two deserve a daughter that will undo them. Or maybe make them worse, either way, I'm so in 🔥

HEHEHE thank you! She will definitely play a big part in the decepticons eventually >:) for now here’s some more of her relationship with her sire

#1 dad explanation below cut 🔽

As a Sparkling, Megatron and Supernova share a close relationship, and she looks up to her sire as the embodiment of strength, leadership, and power. She wants to be just like him. Megatron’s charisma, authority, and his ability to inspire and lead the Decepticons impress her, and she aspires to grow into someone like him. She admires how he commands respect effortlessly, she idolizes him, seeing him as the hero of their people, the one who rose against those who oppressed the lower class. For her, Megatron isn’t just her sire, he’s the ultimate standard to which she must measure herself, and she wants nothing more than to grow into someone who can make him proud

As Supernova matures and starts to develop her own perspective, she begins to see Megatron’s flaws, his utter lack of empathy, his cold, authoritarian approach, his obsession with power over others. She starts to realize that he has a lack of genuine care for those he believes are under him, seeing his people as nothing more than expendable soldiers to earn more power, the decepticon revolution become less and less about justice, and more about how much control he can get. As a youngling, his expectations of her grow heavier, their close bond begins growing colder as he becomes more her mentor than her sire. And as she struggles with her own identity, she becomes aware that his strive for power isn’t what she wants for herself. As she starts to see her sire through a more critical lens, Supernova begins to admire him less and less. The perfection she once saw in him begins to feel like a façade, but she still feels a deep respect for him, and though she may no longer idolize him, she is still tied to him by the weight of his expectations

As she grows into adulthood, her struggle intensifies. She realizes she doesn’t want to be like Megatron, his ruthlessness, his unyielding control as the decepticon leader isn’t what she wants to be. She still loves him, deeply, but the bond they once had is completely gone now, Supernova is no longer Megatron’s creation, she is his heir. Despite their emotional drift, her deep-rooted desire to make him proud can never fully disappear. Even if she doesn’t want it, she wants to prove that she is worthy of his legacy, that she is worthy of doing the one thing she was raised for. She’ll become whatever Megatron and the decepticon cause needs her to be

[aeniiverse]

CO-PARENTING A CAT

Synopsis — You and Karina broke up three months ago. It was clean, it was adult, it was entirely her idea. But neither of you thought about what it would mean for Miso your shared, overly dramatic, tuna-obsessed cat who now requires joint custody and emotionally complicated drop-offs.

contains — fluff, angst (maybe a sprinkle), exes to lovers, miso is a bit sassy 😭 (I love her), not much warnings lol

WORD COUNT — 2.5k

A/N — Karina just wants to get back together with you and the cat is a perfect excuse 🙏, have this short fic while I start planning out a longer one

You don’t expect to see her when you open the door in your oversized hoodie and one sock missing, but there she is. Karina. Holding Miso in one arm like a prize she’s just won in a claw machine, lips pursed and eyes wide like she wasn’t planning on seeing you either. The cat meows bored, judgmental, as if she’s the one being inconvenienced and Karina finally speaks.

“She was at my door again,” she says, shifting her weight like the three seconds of silence have started to burn. “Scratched it too. I think she hates me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Miso hates everyone. She’s fair like that.”

“She didn’t hate you when we were dating.”

You pause. And that’s the thing about Karina. She’s always been good at slipping the most dangerous sentences into the most harmless moments. Like she’s tossing grenades in with the groceries. You open the door wider, silently letting her in because fighting in the hallway would mean acknowledging to your neighbors that you’re still, sort of, accidentally, in each other’s lives.

Karina walks in like it’s still her place, like she remembers the way the floorboards creak near the fridge and where you keep the emergency Miso treats even though you moved them last month. Miso jumps out of her arms the second she spots the empty food bowl, trotting off like this whole “shared custody” arrangement isn’t ruining your peace.

“You cut your hair,” Karina says, and you swear her voice softens. You resist the urge to touch it, resist the part of you that wants to explain how post-breakup chaos spiraled into a salon visit where you panicked and said “surprise me.”

“You dyed yours,” you shoot back, because this is what the two of you do now, dodge real things with stupid observations. But then you see the way she smiles, just barely, and you hate how much you missed it. How much you still know it by heart.

Karina crouches to pet Miso, who rolls onto her side and purrs like she didn’t just abandon you two hours ago. “I think she’s manipulating us.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s your cat.”

You don’t say it, but that’s not true. Not anymore. Miso was a joint decision. She was an “our” cat. Back when you were an “our” instead of a weird arrangement involving Google calendar custody swaps and avoiding the third drawer in the kitchen because it still has Karina’s chopsticks in it. You don’t throw them out. You don’t know why.

“So,” Karina says, standing up and dusting her hands like she just did something heroic. “Should we talk about the scratching or…?”

“She’s probably just mad you don’t feed her the good stuff.”

“I literally bought that overpriced tuna mousse she likes.”

“You mean the one you used to say ‘smelled like ocean trash’?”

“I’ve grown. People grow.”

You snort, and you hate that it feels natural. You hate how she still makes you laugh in that stupid, knee-jerk way. Like your ribcage remembers her before your brain can stop it. She notices of course she notices and that smug, infuriating smile spreads across her face like it never left.

“I can leave,” she offers suddenly, even though she hasn’t moved an inch. “I just didn’t want her to get run over again. You remember last time—”

“I remember you crying harder than she did.”

“She had a cone! She looked like a furry UFO!”

You laugh. Really laugh. And for a second, it feels like you’re back in that strange little bubble you two built together. Where nothing made sense but it didn’t have to, because at least you had each other. But then the silence creeps in again, heavier this time. And you both know what’s missing.

Karina clears her throat. “Anyway. I can… take her back tonight if it’s too much.”

You want to say no. You want to say yes. You want to ask her if she still uses your Netflix profile and if she misses falling asleep next to you and if she meant it when she said it was better this way. But instead you say, “She’s already here. Might as well let her stay.”

And maybe you’re not just talking about the cat.

You’re halfway through a sad microwave dinner and a worse true crime documentary when your phone buzzes with a message from Karina: ”Miso’s acting weird. Like… really weird. Is she supposed to do that thing with her eye??” There’s a photo attached. Miso, mid-yawn. Not dead. Not dying. Just annoyed. You blink at the image for a long moment, then reread the text. Twice. Because it’s either an actual emergency or Karina being dramatic, and you’ve known her long enough to know those two things often look exactly the same.

Still, she said “really weird.” And that’s just enough to push you out the door.

When you show up at Karina’s apartment, you’re out of breath and slightly pissed, mostly because you didn’t have time to put on real pants. She opens the door in her stupid soft cardigan and even stupider wide eyes like she’s genuinely surprised you came. Which is insane. She knows you. She knows the second she says “Miso” and “weird” in the same sentence, you’ll drop everything.

“She stopped blinking for like twenty seconds,” Karina says as you step inside, voice hushed like Miso might hear her and take offense. “That’s not normal, right?”

You walk straight past her to the living room where Miso is perched like a smug little gremlin on the back of the couch. She looks up at you, unimpressed. You reach out a hand, and she immediately headbutts it, purring like an engine. Zero signs of trauma. No eye twitching. Just healthy, spoiled indifference.

“She’s fine,” you say, turning around slowly. “You made me run over here because she blinked weird?”

“I panicked!” Karina throws her arms up. “It was either call you or Google it, and I didn’t want to see something that said she had feline eye cancer or some shit.”

You want to be mad. You really do. But she’s doing that thing again wringing her hands in her sleeves, lips pressing into a guilty pout, eyes flickering everywhere but your face. Like she’s trying to look casual and failing spectacularly.

“You could’ve just said you wanted to see me,” you mutter before you can stop yourself.

The silence that follows is loud enough to make Miso flatten her ears.

Karina looks at you. Actually looks. And for a moment, it’s like you’re both back at the beginning, before the breakup, before the calendar swaps and cold distance and pretending you don’t miss each other. Her face softens, jaw unclenching just slightly. “I didn’t think I had the right.”

You sit on the edge of the couch, gently scooping Miso into your lap. “You gave her tuna mousse last week. I think you forfeited your moral high ground then.”

Karina groans and flops onto the other end of the couch like she’s been holding her drama in all day. “Okay, but have you seen her face when she eats it?.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s a tiny angel with expensive taste.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Miso stretches luxuriously across your legs, clearly enjoying the attention. Karina glances at the two of you, then hugs a pillow to her chest like it might keep her from saying something stupid. It doesn’t.

“I thought I was over this,” she says quietly.

Your heart stutters. “Over what?”

“This. You. Wanting to make up reasons to text you. Sitting around hoping you’ll ask for a sleepover again just so I can pretend it’s not a big deal.”

You freeze. Because you weren’t expecting that. Not from her. the one who ended it. The one who said she needed space, clarity, whatever. You’d nodded, swallowed your hurt, let her go. But now she’s looking at you like none of it made her feel better. Like maybe walking away wasn’t some strong, mature decision but a mistake wrapped in fear.

“Then why’d you end it?” you ask. The question hangs in the air like smoke thin and choking.

Karina doesn’t answer right away. She picks at the edge of the pillow, lips tugging down. “Because I thought you deserved someone who wasn’t scared all the time. Who didn’t freeze every time things got serious. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You ruined it anyway.”

“I know.”

And that’s the part that stings the most, how calm she is about it. How she says it like she’s been carrying the guilt around every day, tucked inside all the moments where she played it cool and acted like she didn’t miss you. You shift under the weight of Miso and the truth pressing down on your chest.

“I kept your hoodie,” she says suddenly. “The blue one. It still smells like you.”

You blink.

“I didn’t mean to. I just… never gave it back. And now it’s like… this comfort thing? Is that weird? That’s probably weird.”

You stare at her. “Do you sleep in it?”

She shrinks into the pillow. “Sometimes.”

Your laugh is soft, disbelieving. “You fake a cat emergency and sleep in my clothes and you’re wondering if that’s the weird part?”

Karina groans and hides her face. “God, I sound so creepy.”

“No,” you say. “You sound like someone who didn’t want to let go.”

She peeks out, hopeful. “What if I don’t?”

You look down at Miso, who’s blissfully unaware of the emotional mess she’s caused. Then back at Karina, at the flush on her cheeks, the nervous curl of her fingers, the quiet hope in her voice. She doesn’t look like someone who’s moved on. She looks like someone who’s been waiting for a sign.

“You didn’t have to pretend,” you say softly. “You could’ve just said you missed me.”

Karina bites her lip. “I missed you so much it was pathetic.”

You smile. “Good.”

Her eyes widen. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say, nudging Miso gently to the side as you shift closer. “Because I missed you too.”

There’s a pause, charged and soft at the same time. Then she leans in like gravity’s pulling her there, like she’s done waiting. Her voice drops just above a whisper. “So… does this mean I can stop inventing medical emergencies to see you?”

“No promises,” you tease. “But maybe next time, just say hi like a normal person.”

“Normal’s boring,” she murmurs, and then she kisses you.

It’s tentative at first. Careful. Like she’s afraid you might change your mind. But you don’t. You kiss her back, slow and sure, and when she exhales against your mouth like relief, you realize you’re both still in love. Just slightly less afraid now.

Miso meows loudly between you, possibly out of protest. Possibly because she’s no longer the center of attention.

Karina pulls back, grinning. “I think she’s jealous.”

“She’s just mad she can’t fake another crisis now that the truth’s out.”

You both laugh, leaning into each other, the tension finally breaking.

And maybe it took fake emergencies and tuna mousse and an emotionally manipulative cat to get here, but you’re here. Together. Again.

Sort of.

Almost.

Just enough.

You wake up to the sound of purring and something soft against your cheek. For a brief, disoriented second, you think it’s a dream the one of those warm, sugar-fogged ones where everything is right again and Karina’s still yours. But then you blink, and the ceiling isn’t yours, and the blanket smells like Karina’s detergent, and Miso is fully sprawled across your face like the world’s most possessive weighted blanket. You groan, gently shifting her to the side, and that’s when you feel it. Karina’s arm curled loosely around your waist, her breath steady against the back of your neck, like she never let go at all.

You don’t move. You don’t even breathe for a second. Just lie there, frozen in this strange, tender limbo where maybe you’re not exes, maybe you never were, maybe last night was the first step back to something you weren’t brave enough to fight for before.

Then her voice breaks the quiet, sleepy and rough at the edges. “You drool in your sleep.”

You reach back and smack her arm without turning around. “You kissed me last night.”

“Technically, you kissed me back.”

You finally roll over, careful not to disturb the ball of fur between you. Karina’s hair is a disaster, her eyeliner smudged, one cheek creased from the pillow and she still looks stupidly, unfairly pretty. You hate that it makes your heart do cartwheels. You hate that all it took was one dumb night of honesty and tuna mousse to unravel weeks of distance.

“You really missed me?” you ask, quieter this time. Not teasing. Not testing. Just needing.

Karina nods, eyes meeting yours. “I missed you so much I started naming my plants after you. Even the cactus.”

You stare. “Why the cactus?”

“Because it’s prickly and hard to take care of but it still makes me happy.”

You bury your face in the pillow to muffle the groan. “That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been emotionally constipated for weeks. Let me live.”

There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make both of you feel the shift. Like something fragile is settling between you, just out of reach. You lift your head and meet her gaze again, softer now.

“So what does this mean?” you ask. “Was last night a one-time makeout brought to you by guilt and cat anxiety, or…?”

Karina hesitates, then slowly, carefully, reaches for your hand beneath the blanket. Her fingers lace through yours, and her grip is warm. Steady. “It means I want to try again. If you’ll let me. No more running. No more hiding behind Miso.”

You glance down at the cat, who is now asleep with one paw dramatically draped over Karina’s stomach like she’s claiming her.

“She forgives you,” you say.

Karina smiles. “What about you?”

You think about the hoodie she kept, the look on her face when she kissed you, the way she’s holding your hand like she never wants to let go again.

“I think so.”

Karina squeezes your hand. “Good. That means I’ve got time to win you back properly.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Properly? Is that code for elaborate gestures or more fake cat emergencies?”

She grins. “Oh no. I’m done lying. Next time I want to see you, I’m just gonna show up with coffee and a tragic playlist and say, ‘I’m still in love with you, please let me in.’”

You snort. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, tugging you closer until your forehead brushes hers, “so is losing you again.”

And when you finally lean in, kissing her like you mean it this time no confusion, no fear. Miso lets out the most offended meow imaginable and storms off the bed like she wasn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

i'm so happy to see this story on tumblr! shirley manson is one of my favorite people ever and has been an inspiration to me since I was 10 years old! The fact that that nasty ass rag of a paper thought they could hit at her like this shows that they never listened to her music or kept up with her in the last 20 years because she's said multiple times that aging is a gift and she's not going to feel ashamed for having made it to the stage in life that she's in! This is a woman who suffered from body image issues and self harm in her teens and she's come out the other end saying no. NO. I will not let anyone tell me that there is something wrong with how I am!

Garbage is such an underrated band. If you like it, but haven't listened to them since they released Bleed Like Me 20 years ago, I highly recommend you listen to their latest 3 albums. They've experimented so much with their sound since leaving their label and they've gotten more and more political as the years have gone on. They proudly support Palestine, they made a point to hit back at Trump's comments about Mexico, and they have written songs about sexism and police brutality. I love them with my whole heart and am so pumped for next month's album. Truly the blueprint for the best alt rock - they've been cited as influences of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Paramore because they've always been out there doing really weird shit. Please give them a try. Don't be afraid to reach out to me if you want to know where to start because I have heard every song and demo they've ever made (including Shirley's solo demos) and am so obsessed with them that I corrected a caption on a date underneath a picture in their autobiography. I've seen them live twice and highly recommend seeing them on this tour which will be the first time they've headlined in 10 years.

But all this to say, guys. You've got to stop thinking you can criticize Shirley for her looks. She does not give a fuck. Not anymore.

Nothing drives this society more crazy than a woman who doesn't hate herself

[fleuryns]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✶ 엔하

𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗔 ⨾ 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾

❪ 𝑜EUVRES ❫ 愛 𝑙'──엔하이픈 & 𝑓!reader ᵔᴗᵔ fluff scenarios headcanons non-idol au   114O established relationship use of pet names physical intimacy

🎬 . 니니 : enjoy gentlemen enha and have a wonderful weekend! please consider leaving a like and reblogging <33

HEESEUNG has become your personal chaperone ever since you started dating, because he insists on driving you everywhere. he takes you to your appointments and is always there to pick you up afterwards, looking at you like you're crazy when you suggest you could take the bus instead.

HEESEUNG loves to tie your heels for you, every time you wear them and ask him for help he's already sitting down to take your foot on his leg and gently close the little clip, caressing your calf in a swift motion before moving to the other leg, smiling softly to himself.

HEESEUNG takes you shopping anytime, gives you his wallet without a second thought and carries all your bags. if you hand them yourself, he'll quickly accept everything with a smile. but if you don't, he'll frown, gently taking them away. “don't strain your pretty hands with these” he mutters “that's my job”.

JAY works for hours in the kitchen just for you, to cook the things he knows you like. “i made your favorite” he says softly, eyeing your reaction expectantly. he's the happiest when you eat the food he cooked, always fulfilling your requests with a smile, no matter how crazy and difficult they are to make.

JAY is obsessed with and holds your hands at all times, like the true gentleman he is. he occasionally presses his lips softly on the back of your hand or on the inside of your wrist, in a feather-light kiss that leaves a tingling sensation on your skin, making you shiver.

JAY has developed a habit of serenading you at any given moment, and you want to curse whoever introduced him to the guitar. it started kind of as a joke, but now he's very much serious, spending time to carefully select his words and compose the prettiest melody for your ears and your ears only.

JAKE spoils you by buying whatever you want all the time, he allows you to drag him to endless shopping trips and pays for everything with a lovesick grin that shows just how happy he is to get you anything you want. whenever you end up in a store he ends up buying everything you touch without a word.

JAKE would drop anything he is doing if you ever so much call for him. you're his top one priority, because your well-being is also his. he has always his phone on for you, and he always picks up right away. his time is all reserved for his princess, if she wants it.

JAKE just helps you without being asked, sensing what you need like a sixth sense, maybe even before you even realize it. with him by your side, you won't struggle with anything anymore. when you're having trouble with something, he's by your side already and always reassures you with a smile that he's got it.

SUNGHOON carries heavy things for you with a shy insistence, because that's his job and he takes pride in that. he looks up at you when you call him, and he's by your side immediately, rolling his sleeves and getting ready to show off his strength, only for his princess.

SUNGHOON gets you flowers as a gift, no matter the occasion. even just randomly like that, he shows up to your place or to your dates with a fresh colorful bouquet. “pretty flowers for a pretty girl” he announces shyly, handing them to you, his smile growing when you accept them with a happy squeal.

SUNGHOON always finds an excuse to carry you. when it rains a lot and the street is filled with puddles he effortlessly scoops you in his arms silently. when your heels hurt too much he immediately picks you up bridal style despite your protests. “let me help you, baby, im strong enough” he mutters, keeping you close.

SUNOO makes sure to be slightly ahead of you when entering a place, always determined to open the door for you every time. even when you get in a car, he always opens your door first and makes sure you're comfortably seated before closing it and quickly moving to the other side to get in as well.

SUNOO takes your breakfast in bed often, chuckling at your sleepy surprised face even after all these times he's done it. he has all the food arranged neatly on the tray and he just watches you lovingly while you eat. he even occasionally brushes your hair away from your face so it doesn't get in your food.

SUNOO could never get mad at you. the things that usually annoy him when it's other people responsible for the deed, if it's you he doesn't even bat an eye. “it's okay, don't worry about it, angel” he reassures you softly, embracing you in his arms to prove his point.

JUNGWON lets you choose everything you do. he lets you choose the movie you watch, the food you eat, the place you go… he doesn't care that, every time, you end up in the same restaurant or watch the show you like a little too much. he really doesn't care because the smile on your lips could repay anything. 

JUNGWON always pulls the chair for you when you sit down at a cafe or a restaurant, with a simplicity that brings butterflies to your stomach, but his smile hints that the action is very much purposeful. of course, he knows you could do it alone, but the feeling of getting to spoil you like that is unmatched.

JUNGWON makes you feel like royalty just with the right nickname. “my princess~” he muses at the most random moments, hugging you from behind or cupping your cheeks in his hands. the nickname is filled with such devotion that you can't help but melt a little.

RIKI gives you his jacket all the time. it doesn’t matter if he'll be cold, he finds you too cute drowning in his big jacket anyway. but he pretends like it's not a big deal, shrugging while putting his hands in his pockets to mask the fact that he's completely head over heels.

RIKI is always ready to make you feel safe, that's what you noticed after you started dating. he reassures you when you're scared, taking his knight in shining armor part very seriously. he pulls you in his arms and holds you there, whispering soft reassurances in your ear until you feel all better again.

RIKI 's eyes never leave your figure, he especially loves looking at you from across the room, just making sure you're comfortable and happy at all times. he hates when you're sad, he never wants you to be. and since big flamboyant acts of service were never his forte, he keeps an eye on you to make up for it.

© 𝖥𝖫𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖸𝖭𝖲 | 2025

[sturnsblogs]

TAKE ME HOME MATT

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

—

Today was the day you were finally meeting Matt’s friends.

You were excited… kinda. Nervous was probably the better word. The way Matt talked about them—loud, stupid, reckless—you couldn’t help but feel a little scared about what they’d think of you. You were popular at school, but this was different. This was his world.

You sat at your vanity, legs draped over Matt’s lap as he leaned back in the chair behind you. His fingers lazily traced soft shapes over your thighs, a light touch that always made you feel safe. You were doing your makeup slowly, trying not to overthink.

“You look pretty,” he murmured softly, placing a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

Your heart fluttered. You and Matt weren’t dating—but it sure felt like you were. The way he touched you, looked at you, talked to you when it was just the two of you… it felt like something.

“I’m breaking out, Matt…” you said quietly, studying the little blemish near your chin in the mirror. “That’s not pretty.”

He shook his head instantly, tightening his arms around your waist like he could squeeze the insecurity out of you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, firm. “Don’t even start with that shit. You look like a dream.”

You smiled, cheeks heating. “You’re just saying that ’cause you want me to sit here forever.”

“Nah,” he smirked. “I want you to sit here forever and I’m right. Two birds, one stone.”

You laughed and leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence melt your nerves for a little while.

Later, when you actually got to his friend’s house, the vibe shifted.

It wasn’t obvious at first. Matt was still holding your hand as you walked in, but once the guys started joking and talking over each other, he let go. You stood awkwardly behind him as they dapped each other up, made loud inside jokes you didn’t understand, and barely glanced your way.

“Yo, this her?” one of them asked, squinting at you from the couch. “She’s cute, bro.”

Matt gave a low laugh and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”

You blinked. I guess?

Another one chimed in, “Damn, popular girl finally slumming it for the loser? World’s ending.”

The boys erupted into laughter. Your stomach twisted, and you looked at Matt, waiting for him to say something. To shut it down. But he just smirked, biting his cheek.

“She’s got good taste,” one of them teased, and Matt nodded, grinning like it was all just harmless fun.

You tried to laugh it off, but your voice sounded thin.

You sat on the edge of the couch beside him, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. He didn’t notice. He was too busy talking about some story from last week, ignoring the way you’d gone quiet.

After a while, you leaned into his side, needing reassurance. He didn’t lean back. Just kept scrolling on his phone like you weren’t even there.

You didn’t expect Matt to cling to you in front of his friends. You knew how he was — chill, laid back, lowkey. You didn’t need him to hold your hand or drape his arm over your shoulder to prove something. But still, something was… off.

It wasn’t obvious. He was still beside you. Still talking to you here and there. Still laughed softly when you mumbled something under your breath. But it wasn’t him. Not really.

The way he talked around his friends was different — louder, more sarcastic, like he was trying to match their energy. You weren’t used to him being like this. With you, he was always mellow. Soft-spoken. Gentle, even when he was teasing.

But here? He was on edge in a way that made your chest feel tight.

You were sitting next to him on the couch, your leg just barely touching his, while the guys joked around, tossing popcorn at each other and talking about girls in the most juvenile way possible.

“Dude, remember that one chick you were obsessed with freshman year?” one of them laughed, nudging Matt with his elbow. “She was bad as hell.”

Matt smirked. “Yeah, well, I grew outta that phase.”

The guy looked over at you, then back at Matt with a raised brow. “No shade, but this is a little out of the usual for you.”

Matt snorted, barely even reacting. “Yeah, well… things change.”

You froze. He didn’t say it cruelly. He didn’t even look at you when he said it. But something about the way he said it… the casualness, the indifference—it made your heart sink a little.

The conversation moved on quickly, the boys too distracted with their next dumb topic. But you sat there in silence, staring down at your nails, pretending like your stomach hadn’t just dropped.

You leaned into him slightly, hoping for even the tiniest touch—his hand brushing yours, a knee pressed against yours—but he didn’t move. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t meet you halfway either.

It felt like being let down in slow motion. Not enough to cause a scene. Just enough for it to hurt.

He laughed at something TJ said across the room, and for a second, you just stared at him.

This wasn’t the Matt who let you sit on his lap while doing your eyeliner. The one who kissed your neck and called you gorgeous when you swore you looked like a mess. The one who whispered “you’re safe with me” into your hair when you were too tired to keep pretending everything at home was okay.

You weren’t sure who this version was.

And maybe he hadn’t changed. Maybe this was just him when the mask slipped back on. You just didn’t know which one was real.

You didn’t say much on the way back to his place.

The car ride was quiet—too quiet. Matt had his hand lazily resting on the gear shift, close enough to brush your thigh, but he didn’t. And you didn’t move closer either. You just sat there, head tilted toward the window, eyes locked on the passing streetlights.

He glanced over at you, brows furrowing slightly. “You liked them?”

You didn’t answer right away.

“Hey,” he said, softer this time, “did you like my friends?”

You kept staring out the window. “They’re fine.”

It was quiet again. The air felt thick, heavy with everything you weren’t saying.

Matt drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at you again. “What’s wrong, pretty?”

Your throat tightened.

And then you spoke—quickly, quietly, like the words had been building in your chest all night and were finally tumbling out.

“I just…” you started, your voice small, “I felt like I didn’t even exist next to you. Like I was just there to be looked at.”

Matt blinked, glancing over again, but you kept going.

“You barely looked at me. You barely talked to me unless someone else was around. You let them make jokes and say things, and you just laughed like it was nothing.” You paused, biting your lip. “And then when they asked if I was your type you didn’t even say anything. You didn’t even defend me.”

Matt’s jaw tensed. “It wasn’t like that.”

You turned to him then, eyes sharp but glassy. “It was exactly like that. You changed the second we got there. And I don’t know if it was to seem cool or because you were embarrassed to be seen with me, but—”

“I wasn’t embarrassed.”

“Then why’d it feel like you were?” Your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated it.

Matt pulled the car into his driveway but didn’t turn the ignition off. The hum of the engine filled the silence.

You shook your head, eyes back on the windshield now, too hurt to look at him again. “You made me feel so stupid for being excited.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, staring forward. Then he reached for your hand—slow, careful—but you didn’t take it.

“Can we talk inside?” he asked softly. “Please?”

You didn’t answer.

But you didn’t get out of the car either.

You didn’t move.

Your eyes stayed locked on the window, the dim glow of the porch light blurring through the tears you were holding back. Matt still hadn’t cut the engine, and the quiet rumble felt like the only thing grounding you.

“Can we talk inside?” he asked again, gently.

“No,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Matt froze.

You turned toward him, eyes tired, voice trembling. “I don’t wanna go inside and pretend everything’s fine. I don’t wanna sit on your bed while you act like nothing happened. Like you didn’t ignore me all night and make me feel like some accessory you didn’t ask for.”

His brows pulled together, but he stayed quiet.

You pushed your voice a little stronger, because if you didn’t, you were going to cry. “You sat there, with your stupid smirk, letting your friends laugh at me. And you let them think I wasn’t your type.”

“I didn’t say that,” he muttered, almost defensively.

“You didn’t say anything,” you snapped. “And that said everything.”

The car filled with silence again. Thick. Uncomfortable. Real.

“And the worst part?” you kept going, your voice breaking, “is that not even a week ago, you were at my house, looking me in the eye, telling me you loved me. That you weren’t ready for a relationship but you felt something real—remember that?”

Matt looked away, jaw clenched.

You scoffed. “Yeah. I remember. I remember every word because I wanted so badly to believe you. But you keep doing this—playing hot and cold like it doesn’t mess with my head.”

“I’m not trying to mess with you,” he said quietly, voice low.

“Then what are you doing, Matt?” you snapped. “Because you say you love me, and then you act like I’m just some girl you tolerate in public. I don’t get it. I don’t know where I stand with you ever.”

You wiped at your cheek quickly, trying to be subtle.

“I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t feel small when I’m with you. I shouldn’t have to question if I’m enough or if you’re just waiting until I take the hint and leave you alone.”

Matt’s hand hovered, like he wanted to reach for you again, but didn’t.

“Say something,” you whispered. “Anything.”

Matt looked at you, face unreadable. “I don’t know what to say.”

Your chest rose with a shaky breath, eyes narrowing. You let out a bitter laugh and shook your head. “Fuck you. Take me home.”

He stiffened, turning slightly in his seat. “No.”

“What?” you snapped.

“I’m not just dropping you off like this,” he said, voice low. “We need to talk. You’re upset—”

“of course I’m upset!” you snapped, voice rising. “You made me feel like a fucking idiot back there, Matt.”

He sat there, jaw clenched, fingers flexing against the steering wheel. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to?” You threw your hands up, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and betrayal. “You didn’t mean to act like I was nothing? Like I wasn’t good enough to be seen with you? You didn’t mean to let your friends clown me like that and agree when they said I wasn’t your type?”

He swallowed hard. “I didn’t agree—”

“You didn’t disagree, either! You just sat there! And you knew how nervous I was to even meet them!”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak.

“You do this shit all the time! You pull me in, say the sweetest shit when we’re alone, make me feel like I actually matter, and then the second someone else is around, you switch up.”

He was quiet. You were shaking now.

“You literally told me you loved me,” you whispered, voice cracking. “And now you’re acting like I was just hearing things.”

“I meant it,” he said, quiet.

You blinked hard, tears burning. “Then why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep making me feel like I’m not enough?”

“I’m trying,” he muttered.

You scoffed, looking out the window. “No. You’re playing. You want me when it’s convenient for you.”

He leaned forward, desperate now. “I’m not playing you. I just—this shit is complicated, alright?”

“Yeah?” you shot back, finally turning to him with venom in your voice. “Well, my whole fucking life is complicated, Matt. My house is falling apart. My parents barely look at each other. I can’t even breathe in my own home without feeling like I’m in the way—so no, I don’t need you making me feel like I’m hard to love too.”

That landed.

Matt’s face changed, like you’d just punched the wind out of him.

You blinked fast, voice barely a whisper now. “I already feel like I’m falling apart everywhere else. I don’t need you making me feel like I’m disposable, too.”

Silence.

He opened his mouth again, but you cut him off.

“Take me home, Matt.”

and he did.

—

A/N- there is your angst

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn @ivysturnss @ilovemenwithlonghairr @whore4-chrissturniolo

[homemadesterekpie]

im still such an og Hale pack enjoyer for real. i think about them all the time these days. Derek, Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Stiles just chilling together.

it starts awkwardly because they’re not used to eachother yet but the sheer instincts they all have to bond together is so strong the awkwardness feels just like background noise.

Scott having chosen the Argents while Stiles chose the wolves there’s this inevitable rift that forms between them. Stiles having been devoted to Scott for so long it’s obviously painful for him for a while and the wolves senses it.

especially Derek with his new Alpha powers, he can smell it on Stiles, his grief at losing his best friend. but he can also smell resignation and insistent determination.

Stiles does nothing in halves, when he’s in, he’s all in.

they start hanging out almost every day. not doing anything special most days. The betas train, Derek guides them, Stiles watches, he reads. Derek started going through the burnt out shell of his home and found some books and other things to salvage and let Stiles read through them.

and somehow that small thing almost moves Stiles to tears. Derek trusting him with the painful remains of his past life. Stiles is barely just starting to understand just how painful it’s all been for Derek up until now. and how it still tortures him. so having Derek casually show him the smoke smelling books and telling him he can read them if he wants to makes Stiles want to do something stupid like kiss Derek on the cheek and hug him. instead he fights tears and he thanks Derek sincerely as Derek just watches him intently.

It feels weird for Derek to have a pack now. It had been him and Laura for so long that his wolf had been content with that fact. but becoming an Alpha changed everything and he doesn’t know how Laura had been able to keep from changing people to add to their pack for all those years in New York because the drive to do so was almost impossible to resist. but Laura had always been the strong one, she had been raised to be the Alpha while Derek had been raised to become her beta. but he hopes he can make her proud. he hopes he can be half the Alpha she was.

its a relief to have numbers though. it feels safer and it’s easier to breath. he has people to take care of now. he has people to protect and provide for. he has people to patrol his territory with. he can secure his territory’s borders. he can start parley with the hunters occupying his territory.

it’s Stiles who brings it up. they’ve been a pack for a while now. almost a year. summer vacation is around the corner. the betas are strong now, they know how to fight, they know how to kill. meanwhile, Stiles has been going through Derek’s books obsessively. He started taking notes on loose paper but then started transcribing them more neatly into notebooks.

one late afternoon, when the pack is spending the day at the small lake deep in the preserve, Stiles sitting on the bank and reading, he asks Derek if they should consider dealing with the hunters.

ever since the pack has started growing stronger and more confident: patrolling the borders every night, contacting neighbouring packs to tekindle old alliances, Derek finally having his burnt out house torn down. the hunters have been making themselves known more insistently.

Chris Argent has been showing up with his daughter in the preserve hiking, more than once, both of them armed to the teeth. Strangers smelling of gunpowder and wolfsbane have been spotted in town a lot more often. actually, Stiles is pretty sure they’re being followed.

even Stiles who doesn’t have enhanced senses, spotted them all over town. once when out with his dad for dinner, a duo of them had come into the diner and sat at a booth not far from them. Stiles was certain he had seen them before. yes, he could swear he had seen them when he drove back home a few days ago after spending the day with the betas.

Stiles had watched as his dad had tensed when he also noticed the hunters sitting at their booth, ordering food. it was only after, when they were leaving the diner that his dad had asked Stiles if everything was good.

Stiles has told his father about werewolves a few months prior. he hadn’t gone into too much details but the sheriff knew about the pack and that Stiles was part of it. so Stiles shared to his dad his suspicions about the hunters. the next day, the sheriff gave Stiles a gun and took him to the gun range a few towns over. Stiles already knew how to use a gun but it had been a while since handling one so he made sure Stiles reacquainted himself. he also told Stiles that he would start keeping an eye on the Argents and waved away Stiles’ protests about not being worth endangering his job.

so this is why Stiles had to let Derek know they should definitely consider making a move. Derek just says yeah they should. he also confesses having been following the hunters’ movements for a while now. Stiles is taken aback because he had no idea of this??? and the betas hadn’t either from their reactions. they all stopped their swimming to look at Derek with various looks of surprise and betrayal. especially Boyd, whom had naturally worked his way to the second in command spot at Derek’s side.

so they decide to have an impromptu pack meeting right there on the bank of the small lake. they have a picnic and they talk things through as a pack, together. it feels so right to do so. this is what things are all about, Stiles distantly thinks as he watches and listens to Derek explain the hunters’ patterns of movement. a wolf pack, deep in the wilderness of their territory, ensuring the survival of their own.

they decide that Stiles will be sent with Boyd to the main Argent house and deliver the date and time and place for a parley meeting. Stiles recites the words he prepared beforehand , making sure to use the terms he learned from all the books he read.

there will be no violence. but if the hunters were to break that rule, the pack would be forced to take measures to protect themselves.

Chris’ face stays hard and impassive as he listens to Stiles but Allison isn’t as good at hiding her emotions, her face betraying her disdain and hatred. Stiles can’t help thinking those emotions don’t suit her, it makes her look a lot like her mother. the entire time Stiles speaks, she keeps her eyes on Boyd but the imposing beta doesn’t even bat an eyelash. It’s only when Allison’s eyes move to Stiles with the same animosity, that Boyd takes a step closer to Stiles, almost moving in front on him. a soft rumble growing louder the longer Allison looks at Stiles.

Chris’ eyes snap to Boyd for a second before falling to Allison and he stares her down until she has no choice but to lower her eyes, whole body shaking in anger. Boyd stops growling but he doesn’t step down or away from Stiles.

when they finally leave, Boyd walks with Stiles at his back and keeps his eyes the two hunters until they’re both back inside the house and Stiles is safe in the jeep.

Boyd and Stiles share a look when they’re both sat in the jeep. words aren’t necessary here. Boyd has done more than words could ever express so Stiles just pats Boyd’s shoulder, smiling and then he grips it for a few seconds. he’d prefer to hug him but in the jeep it would be too awkward so this would have to do for now.

not long after, the meeting happens. Derek, Boyd and Stiles arrive early. it’s happening at the outskirts of town, almost at the border of the territory. Erica and Isaac are stationed close by and they howl in warning when the hunters approach.

when Scott gets out of the SUV along with Chris, Allison and two other unfamiliar hunters, he’s the only one who reacts. he gasps and his jaw falls open in indignation but he immediately shuts it and rage courses through his veins. he never thought he would ever be feeling like this when it came to Scott but here he is. the gun in the waistband of his jeans at his back burns as his hand itches with the urge to take it out. he could shoot Scott, just to show him a lesson, he doesn’t even have wolfsbane bullets, he’d recover. but this meeting is more important than his ex best friend’s idiotic decisions.

he’s seething in it when Derek’s big hand falls to his shoulder and squeezes for a moment. Stiles calms down almost instantly. his breathing calms and he touches Derek’s hand softly with his fingers in acknowledgment, in thanks and Derek lets go. Scott’s eyes follows the movements and vague disgust blooms on his face.

Derek openly stares at Scott as he walks up along with Chris and his daughter. his stare is hard and unforgiving and he stares until Scott lowers his own gaze to the ground, fidgeting.

Derek leads the meeting and he’s surprised when Chris is the one to lead his own party. he was certain Allison was the one in charge now. She turned 18 and had finished her training months prior. that meant Chris and his men didn’t consider her ready for some reason. it must be because of the way she can’t seem to be able to keep her feelings in check. her hatred and discomfort at being in their presence is so palpable, Derek couldn’t avoid the smell even if he wanted to.

the terms of the Hale pack are brought forward. Hunters have a month to leave Hale territory or face repercussions. if they want to parley in the future, after leaving the territory, they will reach out to the pack for a meeting, the proper way. any other manner of ways used to reach out to the pack, will be considered a breach of the terms and the pack will be forced to take action.

Derek is implacable, his word is law. Stiles feels it in his bones, the skin at the back of his neck prickles with goosebumps. the wind picks up, the trees trashing with it and it becomes undeniable just how powerful Derek truly is at this moment.

the nematon is alive. Stiles has been working tirelessly for months with Deaton to purify it and then secure it’s connection to the Hale bloodline. tonight was the first test in checking the connection and the result is more than promising and Stiles can’t help giving a little smirk.

Chris looks around them furtively, feigning calm but there’s beads of sweat forming at his forehead. he watches Derek for a long time as the trees trash and creak under the force of the wind around them. the ground starts to shake slightly, pebbles and gravel rattling about.

it goes on until Chris finally extends a hand toward Derek and accepts the terms. Derek simply grips Chris’ hand in his own and they shake on it. the ground stops shaking and the the wind slowly die down to a gentle breeze.

Erica and Isaac show up at that moment, making themselves known and the entire pack watch as Chris, Allison, Scott and the two other hunters walk back to the SUV and drive away.

Stiles knows they’re out of earshot once the betas’ tense postures finally relaxes. Derek stays tense for much longer but that’s only before his senses are sharper than the betas.

Stiles and the betas celebrate by sharing hugs and a few nuzzles to cheeks. then Stiles walks over to his Alpha and just has to wait him out a few more seconds before Derek’s posture also relaxes.

he reaches out to place a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and pulls him into his personal space. he pushes his forehead to Stiles’ own and they breath the same air for a few moments. Stiles lets his eyes fall shut and he grips Derek’s henley at his side.

eventually, they separate and Derek’s hand shifts to lay to the side of his neck, thumb brushing back forth. Stiles can’t look away from Derek’s gorgeous face, his heart pounding in his chest. emotions surge up inside of him and the next thing you know Stiles is kissing Derek on the lips, arms around those broad, strong shoulders.

his uncontrollable emotions seem to burst inside of him and tears prickle at his eyes behind his tightly shut eyelids. he wants to give Derek everything. everything he has, everything he is. he wants Derek to own it all.

the Alpha must feel it all because when he puts his arms around Stiles he squeezes him so tight it borders on painful but Stiles doesn’t even notice it.

when they finally let go of eachother, the betas are gone. they probably left pretty quickly, giving them privacy. they probably went ahead to wait for them at the diner where they said they would regroup after the meeting.

Derek entwines his fingers with Stiles’ before pulling him gently towards the waiting camaro. Stiles steps up quickly and lets go of his fingers to instead hug Derek’s entire arm, smiling brightly. he may let out a few giggles, he’s so giddy he can’t help it.

after the diner, Stiles invites Derek over and they end up watching a movie in the living room since his dad is out pulling a double shift but Stiles can’t seem to concentrate on any of it. after the movie, Stiles asks Derek if he wants to sleep over. he can’t look at Derek in the eyes when he asks because it’s actually the first time Stiles does and there’s arousal thrumming in his veins that he knows for a fact Derek can smell.

he slowly makes his way up the stairs, knowing Derek will follow. at the landing he takes off his t-shirt and drops it to the floor. his jeans, underwear and socks are next, then he hears the creaking of the stairs and he knows Derek is almost at the landing.

he enters his bedroom, still keeping it slow but he chances a look back from under his lashes to watch Derek enter his bedroom with all the grace of the apex predator he truly is.

a shiver runs up Stiles’ spine and goosebumps spreads over his entire body. Derek’s eyes are glowing blood red and he’s fixated on Stiles so intently, it’s like he can feel the gaze on his skin like a physical touch.

heart pounding in his chest, he breaks eye contact to climb into his bed and settle comfortably onto his back. their eyes meet again and he watches as the Alpha stalks stalks deeper into his bedroom. their eye contact break again when Derek pulls off his henley and then Stiles’ eyes are naturally pulled down to watch Derek undo his belt.

he’s panting as Derek pushes down his jeans and underwear at the same time and he spreads his legs almost on instincts. slowly oh so slowly, Derek climbs into bed to settle onto top of Stiles and in between his spread thighs.

Stiles rummage under his pillow until his hand finds the bottle of lube he left there earlier in the day exactly for this. he presses it to Derek’s hand. he doesn’t want to wait anymore. he needs it, he needs it so bad.

Derek doesn’t use the lube right away though, instead he folds Stiles almost in half and opens him up with his mouth and tongue for a long time. Stiles squirms and moans, his dick so hard it hurts but he won’t come. he knows he won’t and he doesn’t want to, he wants to come on Derek’s dick, like he should but he’s already close so fucking close.

when Derek finally pushes two fingers into him Stiles is whinny and he’s panting hard. he knows he’s babbling but he’s not sure what he’s saying. when the third finger goes in his ass it starts making an obscene squelching sound as Derek’s fingers thrusts in and out of him. there’s no discomfort at all and he knows he’s ready, he’s so ready. he tells Derek as much and Derek who’s also panting at this point, takes out his fingers and strokes the lube onto his dick before moving his knees up a little for better leverage and lines himself up.

he kisses Stiles as he breaches him and continues to kiss him as he slowly pushes until he’s balls deep. Stiles can only moan and grip Derek’s shoulders hard as the stretch borders on painful for a moment until his body adjusts.

he doesn’t even have to say anything for Derek to know exactly when the discomfort of the stretch abates because the second it does Derek starts moving. slow steady thrusts that leaves Stiles whining into Derek’s kisses.

slowly but steadily, Derek picks up the pace and then they’re both panting too hard to kiss so they pant into eachother’s mouth for a while, Stiles sometimes babbling unintelligibly. Derek then moves his kisses to Stiles’ cheek, down his throat and settling there. he lavishes Stiles’s throat in open mouthed kisses and starts making a constant rumbling sound in his chest that Stiles can feel under his own skin.

with a hand in Derek’s hair holding him in place at his throat, he slides his other hand down to Derek’s ass to edge him on and he starts begging his Alpha to go harder. Derek doesn’t need to be told twice, on the next thrust he slams back in so hard Stiles screams.

after that, Derek fucks him so hard it’s hard to make any sound. the wolf is growling on top of him, leaving bite marks at his throat and Stiles arches into the thrusts, pleasure climbing until he’s on the edge.

then Derek’s thrusts go erratic and he’s growling louder before he pierces the soft skin of Stiles’ neck at his shoulder with his sharp teeth and Stiles is coming. spurts after spurts of come painting the length of his stomach and torso while Derek spills deep inside of him.

there’s a moment of stillness, Stiles breathing really hard and Derek twitching with aftershocks. the moment passes and Derek lowers himself gently to rest his weight completely on top of Stiles. Stiles lets out a small contented sigh. he’s so happy. he’s so sated. he’s done it. he gave Derek everything. he’s Derek’s now. he’s so happy.

when they’ve both regained their breathing and Stiles starts to doze off, Derek nuzzles his cheek and whispers “you’re mine, i love you so much.” in Stiles’ ear.

Stiles’ heart flutters and warmth spreads in his chest.

“yes, God yes, i love you too.” Stiles whispers back.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

tws : nsfw/smut, fem!reader, rough sēx, praise kink, size kink, cockwarming, clothing kink, chocking (light), biting, & creampie.

Mydei had always loved spoiling you. Not just with affection or whispered praise, but with clothes—delicate, frilly things that looked like they were made to be ripped off. Dresses with tiny bows and lace-lined hems, silk slips that clung to your body, sheer fabrics that left nothing to the imagination. He’d come home with armfuls of them, tossing the bags onto the bed and watching you with a heat in his eyes that made your knees weak.

“Try this one on,” he’d murmur, already sliding the hanger off the fabric. “Want to see how pretty my bunny looks in it before I fuck that sweet little pussy raw.”

He never asked twice. You knew better. It turned him on too much—watching you twirl in front of the mirror, looking soft and fuckable in something he picked out, something he bought just to ruin you in. It wasn’t about undressing you. No, Mydei wanted you wearing those pretty things when he fucked you. Wanted the skirt bunched up around your waist, the straps falling off your shoulders, the fabric caught between your bodies while his cock filled you over and over.

Tonight was no different. He had you dressed in pale lavender, a tight little thing with frills that barely covered your thighs. You sat on the edge of the bed, legs pressed together, hands gripping the sheets as he knelt in front of you. His fingers trailed up your calf, slow and teasing, lifting the hem as he went.

“Look at this,” he muttered, voice like gravel as he spread your thighs. “So soft… fuck, you’re already wet for me. You knew what I was gonna do to you, didn’t you? You wanted it.”

You whimpered as he leaned in, hot breath against your inner thigh, but he didn’t stop to tease. Mydei was impatient tonight. Obsessed. He pushed you back onto the mattress, climbed over you, and shoved your panties to the side with a grunt. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, thick and hot and aching to be inside.

“You feel that?” he whispered, nuzzling into your neck. “That’s how hard I get just looking at you in these little fucking dresses.”

And then he pushed in.

All at once, all the way, making you cry out as your pussy clenched around him. The stretch was dizzying, the way he filled you so deep and fast, the fabric of your dress scratching softly between you as he started to thrust.

“Fuck—so tight,” he groaned, hips snapping forward again, and again, louder now, rougher. “You look like a doll—my perfect little fucktoy. Made to wear pretty things and take my cock, isn’t that right?”

You nodded, breath caught, fingers clinging to his arms as he fucked you hard into the mattress, the bed creaking under the weight of his need. His hand came up to your throat, not squeezing, just holding—just claiming—while his other hand slipped down to rub your clit.

“Say it,” he snarled into your ear. “Say this pussy’s mine.”

“M-Mydei,” you gasped. “Yours—it’s yours, fuck—please—”

“That’s right,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder. “Mine to dress up, mine to fuck, mine to fill.”

And he did—not stopping until your pussy was raw and messy, until the dress he bought you was wrinkled and soaked, until he buried himself as deep as he could and groaned your name through gritted teeth as he came.

You were a masterpiece to him. A pretty little canvas he loved to paint with his cock.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[checkeredflagggs]

Finally Forever

Pairing: lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: lando gets the girl — forever

a/n: this was requested back when I first post finally! Sorry it took so long but I hope you like it

Masterlist | Taglist

Finally | Finally in Love

Private Messages, Lando and Carlos/Rebecca

Private Messages, Rebecca and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and Rebecca

f1gossip

user1: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

↳user2: I’m so excited! I love Rebecca and Carlos!

↳user1: I know!!! I need them married like yesterday

user3: man I hope it’s an engagement ring 🤞🤞🤞🤞

↳user4: same!!

user5: or he could just be buying her a piece of jewelry??

↳user6: that’s what I’m saying — I don’t think they’ve really been together long enough for an engagement ring…

↳user7: ok that’s very true — but this store is well known for its engagement rings?? Like it’s where these people go for their rings

↳user6: really??

↳user7: yeah

↳user6: hmmm 🤔

user8: you know what I want to see??

↳user9: Lando entering a jewelry store??

↳user9: because they’ve been together for years now and there’s still no ring on that finger??

↳user8: all very true

user10: ok it’s all well and good to see him centering a jewelry store but he’s got a mother and sisters? Like it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s for his girlfriend

↳user11: that’s another good point!

↳user12: right? Let’s just stop speculating on drivers lives?

Private Messages, Lando and Max F.

Private Messages, Lando and Max F./Carlos/Rebecca

Private Messages, Lando and Max F.

Private Messages, Lando and y/n

landonorris

liked by papaya_girl, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell, and 1,297,455 others

tagged: papaya_girl

landonorris: she said yes and i get my forever girl

view all comments

user13: oh my god im so soft for these 2…

maxverstappen1: finally! It only took forever

↳carlossainz55: you don’t even know the half of it…

↳landonorris: go away you muppets and let me enjoy the fiancé life

charles_leclerc: Congratulations!

↳landonorris: thanks man

oscarpiastri: how long did it take you to actually propose?

↳landonorris: I’m actually not listening to you rn

↳papaya_girl: the proposal was actually pretty quick — it only took about 20 texts messages

↳oscarpiastri: he texted you the proposal??

↳oscarpiastri: actually I don’t know why I’m shocked

↳user14: he texted you the proposal 😑😬

↳papaya_girl: he did! It was actually quite cute

↳user14: if you say so…

maxfewtrell: glad you finally manned up

↳landonorris: thanks for the kick in the pants

↳papaya_girl: yes thank you max

iamrebeccad: what about the plan?

↳papaya_girl: you guys had a plan?

↳iamrebeccad: we did!

↳landonorris: yeah the plan was stressing me out so I just went for it

↳papaya_girl: and I’m so glad you did!

user15: this is the content I want to see!

↳user16: oh absolutely

↳user17: congratulations Lando!

Taglist

Please interact with my taglist post if you want to join — I don’t always check the notes on the individual posts

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @evie-119 @sugarfreerbr @princessesgarden @tukes @mayax2o07 @teti-menchon0604 @galaxygurlll @star73807-blog @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @lilymaleshka @kuolonsyoja @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @hannahmotors10 @moonypixel @nikfigueiredo @daisydaze111 @deephideoutmilkshake @loveyahachoo @mimisweetz @books-fangirl-books @woderfulkawaii @fastandcurious16 @lilyofthevalley-09 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[kxsagi]

I love your works! I wanna make a request for Sae and Rin, please! I hope this is alright. Sae and Rin with a third sibling—but, instead of soccer, this third sibling chose boxing instead.

“𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬”

a/n: thank you so much! reader is a girl boss in this one 🙂‍↕️

(art credits go to karasuao_0101 on x)

being the third itoshi sibling came with expectations: mainly to be born with cleats on your feet and an obsession with kicking things into nets. but somewhere between sae’s cold indifference and rin’s chronic inability to have fun, you realized soccer was not your destiny. you didn’t want to pass or shoot or dribble. you wanted to punch things. preferably people. and that’s how you ended up boxing while your brothers were busy being the emotional support walls of famous football clubs. 

you came home one day with a swollen eye and a busted lip, casually biting into a sandwich like you hadn’t just gone twelve rounds with a girl who looked like she drank protein shakes for breakfast and punched trees for fun. rin glanced at you from the couch, not even blinking. “what happened to your face?” 

you looked up mid-chew. “won the match. with my skull.” 

sae walked in behind him, took one look at your face, sighed like someone who aged ten years instantly. “mom thought you’d be the normal one.” 

“well she shouldn’t have put all her eggs in this genetically repressed basket,” you said, voice muffled by bread. “also, the other girl looks worse. i made her question her life choices and possibly see the light.” 

“she was fourteen,” rin muttered. 

“and yet still taller than me. i had to do what i had to do.” 

training with them was worse. one time you convinced rin to spar, just light work, no face hits, promise. ten seconds in, you body shot him so hard he dropped like a sack of trauma and lay on the mat looking up at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him. “did you just punch the soul out of me?” 

you knelt beside him, all sweet and innocent. “you dodge emotions so well, rin. i thought your abs could take a little physical pain too.” 

sae, in his older brother way of expressing affection (aka buying you things and still not making eye contact), once gifted you a pair of custom gloves. matte black. embroidered with “itoshi menace.” you were genuinely touched. you’d never received something so cool. you were about to thank him when he casually added, “there’s a GPS tracker in the wrist. you disappear after matches and i don’t trust you.” 

“what am i? a flight risk?” 

“yes.” 

family dinners were a delightful mix of commentary on your footwork, rin mumbling about your form being too open, and you threatening to throw mashed potatoes at anyone who brought up cardio. every time you lifted your fork, it was a flex. not emotionally. physically. your biceps were stronger than their coping mechanisms. 

you weren’t a prodigy. you weren’t a soccer genius. you were the younger sibling with fists of fury, a resting fight face, and the distinct ability to make both your brothers flinch when you raised your hand too fast near them. they didn’t say it, but you knew they feared you more than they’d ever feared a match. which meant, in your books? 

you were absolutely winning. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[twistedpink]

SOBBING at the thought of Azul as a father 🥹🥹🥹p not the part of "hell yeah we tried forever to have this kid thrust thrust" but how would he and reader form this family, like omg taking care of the kids ❤️ i want to sit on the couch with azul beside me while holding our baby 🍼

I’ve been thinking of this for WEEKS. You’ve ruined me. @bju3c0re (kids are referred to as “they”, reader is gn but heavily implied afab)(Azul could always be the mother lol)

Husband!Azul’s a MESS in the delivery room every time. To the point where he’s getting ice chips,, Of course there’s nobody blaming him for getting a little sweaty over a BABY coming into the world, but there’s always a doctor who assumes it’s your first :( It’s not earth shattering to be dissected by the hospital staff because they’re on his payroll, but if his baby jitters got out to the twins? I’m sure you’d be seeing a lot more of them!! The tweels loooovvveeee the babies, and they’ll never miss an opportunity to poke at their wittle faces- or Azul’s fragile confidence as a dad <3

Husband!Azul just can’t stop calling you what the kids do,, It’s not like he means to, he’s just got baby brain!!! Your big bad business hubby dies a little (lot) on the inside when he uses toddler lingo on official powerpoints, but it’s all a part of your evil plan to get a stay at home dad in the picture >:) He’s loathe to admit it, but cooking for you in his frilly apron and skimpy shorts isn’t sounding terrible when it’s time to review his budget forms,,, Its only a matter of time!!

No matter how many you end up having, husband!Azul always wants another baby :( As an only child the rare family photos he sees feel so empty without other sets of kiddie tentacles- nevermind how much his parents are insisting on a team of trust fund babies,, His mum took up knitting for them, and you love her more than him! Are you really going to cut her off before she masters mittens? Besides, Think of the discounts!! Your poor first born’s getting shoved in the face of every shopkeep who’s willing to listen, and with a baby giggle that cute, it’s all of them.

Husband!Azul’s a MEGA hot dad tm but it’s so hard to make him believe it :( The pepper stubble he’s got going on and arm definition from carrying the kids around is to KILL for, but at every family photoshoot he offers to take the picture,, It ticks you off to no end that he’s trying to hide away from cameras again. so what else were you supposed to do other than kiss him stupid and get it done? The kids look like they’ll hurl any second now, but sitting pretty on the same bench every year is Azul covered in kisses.. It’s worth every penny!!

Husband!Azul is completely, irrevocably obsessed with you and the little family you’ve made,, He never thought him of all people could find a love so gentle. And yeah, maybe he gets a little controlling with the kids once in a blue moon, but he wants nothing more than good lives for them.. Better than his, at the very least. But above all else, he’s holding out for them to find their own you, because he’s already antsy for grandkids!!

[cupofteatoyou2]

Told you I’d survive the wolves.

Jana had been pacing since she got out of the shower. Back and forth across the room, muttering to herself, tugging at the hem of her shirt like she’d forgotten how clothes worked.

You were stretched out on her bed, watching her. One arm folded behind your head, the other resting across your stomach, calm as ever.

“Babe,” she said, whirling around. “Can you at least pretend to be nervous?”

You blinked slowly. “Why?”

“Because I’m bringing you to meet my entire team,” she groaned, collapsing at the edge of the bed dramatically. “They’re loud. Nosy. Half of them are obsessed with me. And Irene and Alexia are going to destroy you if they sense even a crack in your armor.”

You shrugged. “Let them try.”

She groaned again, flopping fully onto her back next to you. “This is a bad idea. You’re too quiet. You don’t do people. You don’t do dinners.”

“I do you,” you said easily, letting the tease hang in the air.

Jana rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing despite herself. “You know what I mean.”

You turned your head toward her, gaze softening. “You want me there?”

“More than anything.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

That shut her up. For a second. Until she muttered, “They’re gonna think you’re, like, my bodyguard or something. The silent type in a suit who probably knows five different ways to kill a man.”

You smirked. “Six, actually.”

“Not helping!”

The restaurant was already packed when you arrived — not with strangers, but with noise, energy, heat from a recent match win that was still vibrating off every player at the table.

Laughter echoed, someone was retelling a foul in way too much detail, a waiter was trying to squeeze past with another round of drinks. It was chaos. Pure, glorious, post-game chaos.

You adjusted your jacket before you stepped inside. Fitted black, open over a plain tee. The rest of you was clean — well-fitted pants, boots, watch. Minimal. Purposeful. You weren’t flashy, but you did turn heads.

And the moment Jana stepped in behind you, slipping her hand into yours, the entire table went silent.

Like, comically so.

You could hear a fork clatter against a plate. Someone coughed. A glass hit the wood with a loud clink.

Twelve world-class footballers froze mid-bite, all eyes on you. You scanned the group once, slow and level. You weren’t being intimidating on purpose — it was just the way you were. Calm. Controlled. Still.

You looked like you were about to audit the restaurant. Or pull Jana away from danger. Definitely not like someone showing up for a date night with her giggly, golden girlfriend.

Mapi’s jaw dropped first. “No way.”

Ona, halfway through sipping her water, choked.

Patri, always the mouthiest, squinted like she was trying to decode a riddle. “She’s real.”

“Wait—this is her?” Pina leaned in.

“She looks like she should be head of security,” vicky added from the middle of the table, half-grinning.

Jana just beamed. Radiant. Unbothered. Proud. “Everyone, this is my girlfriend.”

There was a beat of dead silence again, and then-

Mapi, hand raised like she was pointing out a glitch in the simulation “She looks like she could break my ribs just by looking at me.”

Patri nodded solemnly. “Honestly? Same.”

You didn’t react. Just gave a nod. Calm. Unfazed. You were used to people trying to figure you out in the first five seconds.

No one ever got it right.

You guided Jana to her seat like it was second nature �� a hand on her lower back, holding out the chair, waiting until she was settled before taking the one beside her. Your arm brushed hers. You didn’t move away.

Across the table, Alexia sat with her arms crossed, face unreadable. She hadn’t said a word yet.

You noticed. You noticed everything.

“So,” Mapi said slowly, tilting her head toward you. “You don’t talk much, huh?”

You gave a small shrug. “Not unless I need to.”

“Great,” Patri muttered, slapping the table. “We got the strong, silent type. Mystery girlfriend unlocked.”

Jana nudged you gently, like she was trying to remind everyone you were human.

“She’s just quiet around new people,” she said. “She’s actually really sweet. Once you get past the—uh—‘silent and maybe lethal’ vibe.”

You raised a brow. “Maybe?”

That earned a couple chuckles — tentative, curious ones.

“So,” Ona leaned in, chin on her palm, “what do you do, anyway?”

Jana immediately stiffened.

You glanced at her, then back at the group. “Something a little untraditional.”

“Like what? Tech? Security? Mercenary?” Patri was definitely not kidding.

“Something like that.”

“Okay what does that mean,” Mapi asked. “Now I’m invested. You can’t just say you’re a mystery woman and not elaborate.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Still. You look like someone who’s used to saying no comment.”

You took a sip of your drink. “Only when necessary.”

There was a short silence as they all stared at you like you were the main character in a mystery novel.

Jana, clearly trying to save you from further questions and possibly herself from exploding, leaned forward with a quick, “Let’s talk about the game instead!”

But across the table, Alexia finally spoke.

“Huh.”

That was it. One syllable. Loaded.

Jana looked over, instantly on guard. “What?”

Alexia didn’t break eye contact with you. “Nothing. Just didn’t expect this.”

“This?” Jana echoed.

She shrugged. “She’s not what I pictured.”

You didn’t flinch. “Most people don’t picture right.”

Alexia smiled, tight-lipped. “Apparently.”

Jana was fuming now, opening her mouth—but you brushed your fingers lightly over her knee under the table.

Not here. Not yet.

They didn’t know who you were. They didn’t know what you could do.

And that? That was the fun part.

You’d barely made it through the starters when the questions started rolling in.

It began innocently enough—soft curiosity hidden behind polite smiles and wine glasses. You could feel it coming before it even started, the shift in atmosphere, the rising energy across the table as everyone began to relax. Not at you, though. About you.

It was a look you’d gotten before—like someone trying to read a novel without the cover. You looked too composed. Too guarded. Too not what they expected.

Jana had kept her body angled toward you the entire time, her knee brushing yours beneath the table, hand occasionally resting on your thigh like a quiet reassurance. But you knew she was waiting for it too—for someone to break the silence, to ask what they were all clearly thinking.

So when Irene set her fork down and leaned over the table with a sly grin, you didn’t even blink.

“Okay,” she said. “I need to ask. Who are you, really?”

Jana groaned softly beside you. “Irene—”

“No, no, I mean it,” Irene continued, gesturing toward you. “You walk in here like a damn bodyguard, you haven’t said more than five words, and you’ve been scowling at the bread basket like it owes you money. I need context.”

The girls laughed, a few of them chiming in with agreement.

You met Iren’s eyes, calm. “You want my résumé?”

“Absolutely.”

You leaned back a little in your chair, finally speaking with a slow, even tone. “Name’s Y/N. I’m twenty-two. Born and raised in Madrid. I play professionally—different sport. Moved to Barcelona last year.”

“Oh no,” Patri said. “A rival athlete. This is getting spicy.”

“What sport?” Vicky asked.

You paused just long enough to keep them curious, then answered simply, “We’ll get there.”

A wave of mock outrage passed through the table. Kika fake gasped. Ona raised her brows in silent challenge. Jana just buried her face in her hands.

“You’re enjoying this,” she muttered under her breath.

“A little,” you whispered back, the corner of your mouth twitching.

“So how did you two meet, then?” Ona asked, chin propped on her hand as she studied you.

“Friend’s birthday,” you said. “Jana knocked over a tray of drinks. I caught one.”

“I caught two!” Jana corrected indignantly.

“You did,” you agreed, smiling softly. “But mine was tequila, and I hate wasting tequila.”

“Love at first spill,” Mapi nodded dramatically. “Classic.”

“She was so smug about it too,” Jana said, sitting up straighter now. “Didn’t even blink. Just handed it back to me and said I owed her a drink.”

You shrugged. “You did.”

The group collectively cooed and groaned, depending on their wine intake.

“But wait,” Patri said, leaning in now. “How long has this been going on?”

“Almost a six month ,” Jana answered quickly.

Cue another round of chaos.

“A six month ?!” Kika exclaimed.

“You’ve had a secret girlfriend for a whole half year and didn’t say anything?” Vicky gasped.

“She didn’t hide me,” you said calmly. “We just… didn’t want to make things complicated.”

“She wanted to keep you all to herself,” Mapi said, pretending to wipe a tear. “Selfish.”

“You’re all chaos,” Jana muttered.

“True,” said Ona, sipping from her glass. “But chaos knows how to interrogate.”

“Which brings us back to the question,” Patri added. “What do you do?”

You exchanged a glance with Jana. She hesitated. So you answered for her.

“I fight.”

Dead silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” Mapi blinked.

You didn’t raise your voice. Didn’t make a scene. You said it the way someone else might say teacher or accountant.

“I’m an MMA fighter.”

For half a second, the table didn’t register it. Then—

“Like… real fighting?” Kika asked.

“Cage matches,” you confirmed. “Amateur when I was younger. Turned pro two years ago.”

Vicky’s jaw dropped.

Mapi blinked at you like she’d seen a ghost. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope.”

Ona put her fork down. “Oh my god. That explains so much.”

“Wait—so much?” Jana asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Have you seen the way she walks?” Kika said. “Like someone who knows they can win a fight they haven’t even been challenged to yet.”

“And the arms,” Ona added casually. “She looks like she could lift a car.”

You gave a soft chuckle. “Only the small ones.”

Then came Alexia.

She hadn’t said much all night, but the second you said fighter, something behind her eyes sharpened. She set her knife down with purpose, posture stiff, voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

“Of course you’re a fighter.”

You turned to her slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alexia leaned back in her seat, arms folded. “Nothing. Just… explains the serious face. The whole silent and brooding thing.”

Jana sat straighter, protective now. “Lex—”

“It’s alright,” you said softly, still looking at Alexia. “I get it. I don’t look like the kind of person you pictured her dating.”

“You look like someone who could snap a neck if provoked,” she said bluntly.

A few nervous laughs around the table.

You didn’t blink “I’ve been in cages, rings, and fights with people twice my size,” you said, voice calm, controlled. “None of that scares me. But the idea of hurting Jana? That would.”

It was quiet after that. Even Mapi didn’t know what to say.

Jana reached under the table and slid her hand into yours, threading her fingers between yours without looking.

You didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

You could feel it before you even saw her.

Alexia’s eyes on you. The pressure of her gaze—calculated, cool, and unrelenting. She hadn’t smiled once all night. And every time you so much as shifted in your seat, it was like she was clocking your movements, cataloguing you like a threat in disguise.

The rest of the team had started warming up to you after the “fighter” reveal. Mapi had made at least six jokes about needing you on the defensive line. Vicky had asked how many ribs you’d broken in your life you said "two—mine". Ingrid had tilted her head thoughtfully and gone, “Hmm, I can see it now. The jawline. The silence. The slightly scary aura. You’re her type.”

Even salma—who barely said a word when you walked in—was now animatedly asking about how long you had trained and whether you could flip someone over a table if needed. You said, “Depends on the table.”

Jana, meanwhile, hadn’t stopped beaming. She sat close—hip brushing yours, her hand occasionally resting on your knee under the table. Whenever someone got too loud or made a comment that toed the line, she’d glance up at you, as if checking you were okay. You always were. You were used to scrutiny. What you weren’t used to was someone like her watching your face like it mattered to her what she saw.

But Alexia?

Still cold. Still skeptical. Still looking at you like she couldn’t figure out what the hell her sweet, gentle, starry-eyed teammate was doing with someone like you.

The tension crackled quietly as dessert was cleared. Then, the wine started flowing again, and with it came the pokes—the questions dressed up as jokes, the little digs that weren’t quite playful.

“So…” Alexia spoke up again, swirling her glass slowly. “What happens when you get mad?”

You were in mid-conversation with Mapi, but the whole table turned to you.

You met her gaze evenly. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Who I’m mad at.”

There was a pause. Mapi stifled a smirk. Patri widened her eyes at the table, clearly enjoying the tension. Jana stiffened beside you.

Alexia took another sip. “Right. But say someone pisses you off. What then?”

You blinked, patient. “I don’t lash out. I’ve trained to control myself.”

“That’s good,” she said, deceptively calm. “Because someone with your… background losing control? That could be dangerous.”

You leaned back slightly, voice still even. “I’ve fought people twice my size. I’ve been thrown against cages, taken elbows to the face, trained until my lungs burned. You think I’d lose control in a restaurant because someone made a comment?”

That silenced the table.

Alexia shrugged. “Just saying. People like you are… intense.”

You let the silence settle. Then, voice low and deliberate

“I’ve spent years learning how to be intense without being destructive. That’s the difference between being dangerous and being disciplined. I know exactly how strong I am. And I know what I’m capable of. Which is why I’d never raise my voice, let alone my hand, to someone like Jana.”

Another pause. This one heavier.

You could feel Jana’s fingers sliding over yours under the table. She didn’t speak—but her grip said everything.

“She calms me,” you added. “In ways no one else ever has.”

It wasn’t a speech. It wasn’t some planned defense. Just quiet truth. Your voice wasn’t soft—but it was sure.

And Alexia heard it.

For the first time all evening, something in her shifted. Not trust. Not yet. But a tiny falter in her wall.

“So,” Mapi said quickly, breaking the silence, “who wants to see if she can choke out Patri with a napkin?”

Laughter rippled around the table, easy and warm. Tension diffused.

Patri elbowed Mapi and rolled her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”

You leaned toward Jana, voice low: “You okay?”

She smiled up at you, warm and bright. “Yeah. Are you?”

You gave the slightest nod. “Always.”

By the time dessert hit the table, your shirt collar was rumpled from where Jana had tugged you close to whisper jokes. Her laughter had only grown brighter the longer the night went on. Around you, the team had settled into a post-meal chaos—spoons scraping the last of chocolate mousse, wine glasses refilled too generously, someone ,you were 90% sure it was Mapi, yelling about arm wrestling.

But even in all the noise, you felt the weight of one gaze.

Alexia was still watching.

Not with the sharpness she’d had earlier, but something more patient now. Like she was waiting for a moment. And when the team got distracted again—Mapi daring Patri to chug a glass of water upside down—Alexia tapped Jana’s shoulder.

“Can I borrow her for a sec?” she asked, nodding at you.

Jana froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Why?”

“I just want to talk.”

“She’s not really the talking type,” Jana said quickly.

You set your hand over hers on the table. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Go defend Mapi’s honor.”

Jana gave Alexia a narrowed look, but let you go.

Outside, the night had cooled, crisp air kissing your cheeks as you stepped onto the quiet street beside her. You tucked your hands in your coat pockets. Alexia stood a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw working.

The silence stretched.

Then finally, “So. You fight.”

You blinked slowly. “Didn’t realize that was still breaking news.”

“I mean… you fight. Cages. Rings. Actual paid violence.”

“I call it controlled discipline, but sure. That too.”

Alexia exhaled like she’d been holding it for hours. “Jana has always been… soft. In a good way. She’s light. She’s—”

“Sunshine,” you offered. “I know.”

“And you…” she trailed off, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “You walk like you expect a bullet.”

You huffed something that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

She leaned back against the brick wall of the restaurant, arms still folded. “You terrify them, you know.”

“I know.”

“But that’s not why I had a problem.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t scared of you,” she clarified. “I was scared of what you represented. People like you—people with hard eyes and locked jaws and bruised knuckles—they don’t stay. They burn. And people like Jana?” She tilted her head toward the restaurant. “They get caught in the fire.”

That one… stung.

You stared at her for a long beat. The light above flickered slightly.

“I’ve spent most of my life in places where I couldn’t afford softness,” you said finally, quietly. “But I’ve never once looked at Jana and thought about breaking anything. She’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to protect.”

Alexia didn’t answer, but something in her face shifted.

“You think I’m intense?” you went on. “I’ve seen that girl care so loudly it knocks the wind out of people. She’s a force. Don’t confuse soft with weak.”

Alexia glanced down. “No one who keeps up with me on the pitch is weak. I know that.”

The silence this time felt less strained. Like a storm starting to clear.

“I didn’t want to like you,” Alexia admitted. “And I’m still not sure I do.”

“That’s fair,” you replied.

“But…” She hesitated, watching you. “I believe you love her. That part I see clear.”

You nodded. “With everything I’ve got.”

Another pause. Longer. Quieter.

“If you ever hurt her,” she said softly, not a threat but a promise, “I won’t need a cage.”

You looked her right in the eye. “If I ever hurt her, I’ll let you swing first.”

That was the moment something in her cracked. Not completely, not all the way—but enough.

Alexia straightened. “Come on. You’ve survived dinner. Mapi’s asking questions about who would win in a fight: you or patri.”

You smirked. “Would she be watching or participating?”

Alexia actually laughed, low and reluctant. “She might be proposing.”

Back inside, the mood had only gotten messier. Patri had her face buried in her hands as Mapi tried to demonstrate some sort of “ninja duck roll” using an empty wine bottle. Jana saw you immediately—her eyes lit up, scanning your face like she was looking for signs of damage.

You sat beside her and pulled her close without a word. She pressed a kiss to your jaw.

“She still hates you?” Jana whispered, teasing.

“No,” you murmured back. “She’s just scared I might steal you away for good.”

“You already did.”

Mapi clinked a glass. “Alright! Verdict time!”

Everyone turned to her.

“Our dear silent mystery fighter has survived the wolves. Barely. But she passed. I say she stays.”

Jana cheered softly, pulling your hand onto her lap.

You leaned close, brushed a kiss to the top of her head, and whispered only for her

“Told you I’d survive.”

She smiled at you like you’d just handed her the sun.

And for the first time that night, Alexia watched you—not with judgment, not with challenge.

With respect.

(This is probably shit 😅 )

[muqingslover]

Your latest fic destroyed me (in the best possible way, im weak to angst) and I've been binge reading the other stuff you have here in order to console myself lol (love it all btw!!)

What I wanted to ask is, what features do you think lads' kids would inherit from them? In the case of the guys that want kids ofc. I have this hc that Caleb's genes are stubborn af, and all his kids have his eye colour copy paste. (If you're open to requests, that is!!)

[ Thank you for your kind words anon! 💕💕 I'm always happy to hear that you guys enjoy my work! For those who are curious, this is the fic anon is referring to!

Your request ended being quite short though bc there really wasn't much for me to elaborate (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ I've mentioned before I don't see some of the boys with children, but I did them anyway for you to make up for the length! ]

⊹ His physical traits gene is like a Russian roulette, but his personality genes are unbeatable.

⊹ If Xavier was to have children they'd be as sleepy and clingy as their father.

⊹ They miiiight get his hair color, but the rest? A carbon copy of you.

⊹ I also feel like his children would be really whiny in a super cute, not annoying-toddler way.

⊹ The most adorable puppy eyes and pouty face. It feels impossible to say no to them.

⊹ The strongest genes known to man.

⊹ His children are literal copy-paste of himself. White hair, red eyes, dragon traits, ECT.

⊹ They however have your personality plus are also very, very high energy.

⊹ He absolutely adores them of course, but Sylus would ask to keep trying until he gets a mini version of yourself. What can he say, he loves you.

⊹ Oh and they're super high maintenance, much more than most kids. The twins do very little to actually help and just add to the chaos for most part.

⊹ The perfect balance of the two of you.

⊹ The little girl would have his green eyes with your hair and is just gorgeous.

⊹ The personality is a mix of both, except she is as smart as her father.

⊹ If you're an extroverted then she might be more outgoing compared to Zayne, though still enjoys sitting and playing by herself.

⊹ Annoying father = Annoying children.

⊹ Okay okay I'm joking! Kind of. The children all get his purple hair and dramatic flair.

⊹ And that my friends results in the little ones and their dad to butt heads all the damn time.

⊹ The only person they listen to is mommy, including Rafayel.

⊹ The mermaid lineage is also very strong so invest in a much bigger bathtub and prepare your heart for the water bill.

⊹ I totally agree with you that this man's genes are very stubborn.

⊹ You get a literal duplicate of him when that sweet little boy is born, personality and all.

⊹ This extends to his obsession with his mama and their silly banter over who gets to cuddle you to sleep. (He lets the little one wins because his heart is weak)

⊹ Personally though? Caleb wants a perfect mix of the two of you if you're willing to keep trying.

[lovelyzzzz777]

Venus through the Houses in Synastry – Where Love Lands 🔮💫

(soft spots, romantic projections & pleasure triggers, house by house.)

🌸 Venus in 1st house – You feel beautiful around them — they adore your vibe. There's instant attraction, charm, and ease. But sometimes you might feel like they’re projecting their “ideal” onto you. Romantic? Yes. Real? That depends on how honest both are.

💰 Venus in 2nd house – Comfort, sensuality, security. This feels like “I want to spoil you” energy — emotionally or materially. They might match your values or trigger insecurity around self-worth. Loving, yes… but also a little possessive or indulgent at times.

💬 Venus in 3rd house – Words become foreplay. They love the way you think, speak, and express yourself. This can feel like falling in love with a best friend. But if not emotionally deep, it may stay surface-level — pretty, fun, but fleeting.

🏡 Venus in 4th house – Deep emotional comfort. You feel safe, seen, maybe like you’ve known each other forever. There’s a quiet devotion here. But it can also bring emotional dependency or childhood triggers if wounds aren’t healed. Home or heaviness?

🎨 Venus in 5th house – Instant sparks. Romance, play, fun, creativity. They awaken your inner child. You might feel like showing off, flirting, creating art or drama. The love is expressive and magnetic, but it can become attention-seeking or performative if immature.

🧹 Venus in 6th house – Love shows up in the little things. They help, support, notice details. It’s not flashy but it’s real. Sometimes the dynamic becomes one-sided or overly “helper/fixer.” Quiet devotion or quiet resentment — communication is key.

💍 Venus in 7th house – Classic partnership vibes. They feel like “relationship material.” You might idealize them or see them as a reflection of the kind of love you want. But this also brings projection — do you love them, or what they represent?

🖤 Venus in 8th house – Intense, seductive, transformative. This isn’t casual. There’s emotional depth and raw attraction — but also fear of losing control. Love feels like obsession or healing. It can bring intimacy or emotional power struggles.

📚 Venus in 9th house – You expand each other. They feel like someone to travel with, learn with, dream with. Idealistic love, sometimes long-distance or culturally different. Inspiring, but can become preachy or disconnected from reality.

🏆 Venus in 10th house – There’s admiration and respect. You might see them as someone who boosts your image or goals. They could help you grow, or you might feel like you have to impress them. Love is shown through actions, not always feelings.

🎉 Venus in 11th house – Besties with benefits energy. Friendship first, love second. They support your weirdness and dreams. The vibe is chill, but this can also stay stuck in the friend zone. Connection? Yes. Intimacy? That depends on the rest.

🌫 Venus in 12th house – Soulmate or illusion? This is romantic, dreamy, and magnetic — but full of hidden layers. You may feel pulled to them without logic. Love can be spiritual, healing, or foggy. Secret relationships or silent longings are common here.