#and they can feel the lumps in his throat again
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syluslnd · 2 days ago
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Can you please do a scenario where Sylus and MC/reader are about to be intimate for the first time, but MC/reader starts over thinking and begins to panic, and Sylus comforts her?
sylus comforting you during a panic attack
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you are wrapped in the warmth of Sylus’s embrace as you lay beside him in bed,his touch was soft, fingers trailing lightly over your skin, his gaze heavy and filled with a mixture of affection and hunger that sent your pulse racing. This was it—the moment you’d thought about a hundred times in stolen glances and shared touches. But now, with Sylus so close, his eyes dark and locked onto yours, the reality of it was almost overwhelming.
You tried to steady your breathing but a wave of nerves washed over you, leaving you tense and unsure. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest as your gaze drifted to his face, the intensity of his expression too much to hold. It wasn’t that you didn’t want this; you’d never wanted anything more. But there was an anxiety gnawing at you, a sudden sense of vulnerability that left you frozen, hesitant.
Sylus, perceptive as ever, noticed immediately. His hand stilled, his gaze softening as he searched your face. “Hey, kitten” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. “What’s going on up there?” He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re all tense.”
You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “I… I don’t know” you whispered, feeling embarrassed at the admission. “I guess… I’m just… nervous.” You avoided his gaze, your cheeks flushed as you tried to find the right words. “I thought I was ready but now that we’re here…”
He nodded, a small smile softening his expression. “I get it” he said, his tone understanding, not a trace of impatience in his voice. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? Being here like this with me.” His hand moved to yours, fingers entwining with yours in a slow, comforting grip.
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “Or disappoint you.”
Sylus’s smile deepened and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sweetie, you could never disappoint me.” He paused, his gaze intense but warm as he held yours. “and there’s no pressure here. This is us—just you and me. No expectations.”
You felt your nerves start to ease, his words grounding you as he continued. “We can take our time. There’s no rush” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your hand in soft, soothing strokes. “If you want to slow down, we’ll slow down. If you need a break, we stop. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
You looked at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He moved a little closer, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a feather-light kiss that sent a shiver through you. “I just want you to feel safe with me. Nothing else matters.”
His words wrapped around you like a cocoon, his calm voice and gentle touch easing the tension in your body. He kept his eyes on you, waiting, giving you space, his gaze filled with patience and understanding. Slowly, you found yourself relaxing, the warmth of his touch chasing away the fear.
“Thank you” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze again, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I… I feel safe with you. I think I always have.”
His smile turned tender and he kissed you again, soft and unhurried, his hands warm and steady on you. This time, you felt yourself melting into him, letting go of the fear, knowing he’d be there with you, every step of the way.
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daisymbin · 3 days ago
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what kind of future? - jeon wonwoo
warnings: alcohol mention, ANGST!!!! happy ending though so all is well
pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader
genre: exes to lovers
wc: 2.3k
check out my masterlist!
“why did you block me?” your voice comes out small, muffled through the lump in your throat as you stand in front of wonwoo’s front door. It’s saturday night, and you’re clutching plastic bags filled with takeout boxes of all his favorites, the familiar smell of the food wafting into the cold air between you. you’ve been worried sick all week, desperate to understand why he cut you out so suddenly, and tonight, after a week of silence from him, you couldn’t wait any longer.
wonwoo stares back at you, and even in the dim glow of the porch light, you can see how exhausted he looks. his eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with that drunken haze you recognize from nights out together with friends & also from dates. you can smell the faint alcohol on him, and he’s swaying slightly in the doorway, unsteady but painfully familiar. his dark hair is tousled, and he’s wearing an oversized hoodie and sweats, looking every bit as vulnerable as you feel.
he doesn’t answer you. not at first. instead, he laughs, the sound broken and empty, and leans his shoulder against the door frame. “so now you care?” he slurs, voice cracking around the edges. “you care now that i’m a mess, huh?”
you step closer, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “wonwoo, i’ve always cared,” you argue softly, voice trembling. “what happened? why did you block me? did i do something wrong?”
he laughs again, bitter and self-deprecating, before slumping down, sliding his back against the door frame until he’s sitting on the ground. his long legs stretch out in front of him, and he rubs his hands over his face, as if he can’t stand to look at you.
you crouch down beside him, setting the takeout bags aside. “wonwoo,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away, and the movement cuts deeper than you thought possible.
“i blocked you because i’m tired,” he mutters, voice thick with more than just alcohol. “tired of wanting something i can’t have. tired of pretending. i thought... maybe if i just erased you from my life, i could move on.” he looks up then, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and your heart breaks at the sight. “but it didn’t work. nothing works. not even drinking until i can’t feel anything.” another bitter laugh left his dry, chapped lips.
you’re stunned, your mind spinning, but part of you understands. it’s a pain you know all too well, a familiar ache that never quite faded. “wonwoo-ah,” you whisper, the name heavy on your tongue, full of memories you’d buried after you two broke up. “we both tried moving on, didn’t we?” the words hang between you, a painful truth neither of you ever wanted to address.
wonwoo looks up at you, the bitterness softening into something achingly vulnerable. “we did,” he admits, voice cracking. “but no matter how many times i tried to convince myself i was over you, no matter how hard i fought to just be friends... i couldn’t. i just can't.” he runs a shaky hand through his hair, his tears slipping down his cheeks. “god, do you know how bad it hurts?”
you feel your own tears spill over, remembering how hard it was when you broke up, how you both decided to try and stay friends for the sake of the boys, you've known them for far too long. “i thought i was doing the right thing,” you whisper, voice trembling. “we both did. but maybe…-”
wonwoo’s eyes search yours, the pain and longing there almost too much to bear. “i don't need you to pity me. if you've moved on, just go-”
“go where exactly wonwoo? who said anything about moving on? do you think i have?” you let out a frustrated sigh.
he cuts you off, throwing his head back with a humorless laugh. “oh, come on,” he says, his voice raising a little, frustration and pain bleeding through. “i saw you. last weekend. with him.”
you blink, confusion clear on your face. “him? who?”
wonwoo clenches his jaw, his hands curling into fists on his lap. “that guy you were laughing with at the café,” he snaps. “you looked... so happy. and he was touching your hand, and you didn’t pull away. i thought...” he trails off, his voice breaking. “i thought you liked him. i thought you were... moving on
the realization hits you like a punch to the gut. you know exactly who he’s talking about; an old friend who had come into town unexpectedly. it was a friendly catch-up, nothing more. you hadn’t even considered that wonwoo would’ve seen it, much less misunderstood it. you reach for him despite his flinch, your fingers trembling. “wonwoo, that wasn’t... that wasn’t what you thought,” you say, tears streaking your cheeks. “he’s just an old friend, nothing more. i didn’t think you... still felt this way about me.”
wonwoo laughs again, but this time it’s full of disbelief, raw and shaky. “felt this way?” he echoes in disbelief, voice heavy with emotion. “i never stopped loving you. i’ve been trying to bury it for months, trying to be okay with just being friends. but it’s killing me. everything about you still drives me crazy.” he pauses, his voice breaking further. “i tried my best to stay strictly friendly with you, just the way you wanted, to keep up with just being friends for your sake, for the sake of our friendship and the boys. but every time i see you, every time i look at you...it takes everything in me to not reach for you, to not touch you, hold you, kiss you. it hurt so damn much to act like it didn’t at all. i really tried to keep my distance, for the sake of our friendship, for the boys...for myself. because i cant afford to lose you completely.. if i ever did…it would kill me.”
your voice wavers, thick with emotion. “i didn’t think you'd still want me anymore. i-i still love you.”
wonwoo looks up at you, hope flickering in his gaze, “you..still love me?”
“yes, i-”
his hopeful eyes were swallowed quickly by disbelief. he shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “no,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “don’t do this. dont do this to me. don’t say things just to make me feel better.”
you swallow the lump in your throat, pain slicing through you as you watch him crumble. “i’m not,” you insist, tears pooling in your own eyes. “wonwoo, you just don’t get it, do you?” your voice breaks, and your hands tremble as you reach for him. “i’ve never stopped loving you. i thought things would be simpler, easier for you if we stayed friends, so i kept my feelings locked up too. but i love you. god, i love you so much that it hurts.”
his breath catches, and his tears fall faster, tracing painful paths down his face. yet still, he doesn't trust himself enough to believe his own 2 ears. “do you know how much it hurts?” he asks, voice barely a whisper. “the thought of losing you completely when you left me…it hurt so bad that I.. i took whatever you were willing to give me, even if its just to be your friend again…I did it even though it killed me inside.” he shudders, the tears slipping down his face. “but seeing you with someone else broke me. i thought i was strong enough, but... god, it hurts so much.”
wonwoo clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, his grip firm but trembling. his eyes closes shut as he whispers, “i don’t want to let go,” voice cracking with every word. “come back to me. i can’t lose you again.” he pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, any sign that this is still a mistake. but all he finds is the same raw, desperate hope reflected in your gaze.
“you won't lose me again,” you promise, fingers brushing against his cheeks, wiping away the tears that keep falling. “i love you, i love you just the same, if not more.”
a broken, relieved laugh spills from his lips, and his eyes shine with an overwhelming mix of emotions. “god, i thought i’d never hear you say that again,” he breathes out, voice full of disbelief. “i was so sure you’d moved on, that you were happier without me.”
“never,” you say, voice cracking. “i thought about you every day, wondered if you were okay, if you were hurting too. and when we tried to be friends, it was like twisting the knife deeper. because i wanted you so badly, but i was too scared to ruin what little we had left.”
wonwoo’s hands move to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over your tear-stained skin. his touch is hesitant, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks. “it was the same for me,” he whispers, voice breaking. “every time i saw you, all i wanted to do was pull you into my arms and never let go. but i kept telling myself i couldn’t, that it wasn’t fair to you or to anyone else. i clenched my jaw and fought so damn hard to keep my hands to myself, to not reach for you. it killed me every single time.”
“we’ve both been hurting for so long,” you say, the weight of everything crashing over you, “let's not hurt anymore.”
his forehead drops to yours again, and his breath mingles with yours, shaky and uneven. “i love you,” he says, voice raw and full of longing. “i’ve loved you through every second of heartbreak, through every moment of pretending. i don’t want to lose you ever again.”
“you won’t,” you repeat, your voice barely a whisper but carrying all the love and hope you’ve held onto. “not this time. we’re both here, and we’re not giving up on each other again.”
he closes the small distance between you, his lips finally pressing against yours, a kiss that’s both desperate and healing. it’s messy, full of unshed tears and broken sobs, but it’s real, so achingly real. his hands tighten around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, it almost feels like he's trying to dominate you, but you know wonwoo better than this; you know he's not trying to dominate you, he just needs to feel every part of you to believe this is really happening.
when you finally pull back, both of you breathless and still crying, he lets out a shaky laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “we’re a mess,” he says, his voice full of warmth despite the tears. “but i’d rather be a mess with you than pretend i’m okay without you.”
you laugh, a real, genuine laugh that comes from the heart, and you nod, resting your head against his chest. “me too.” you whisper, your voice filled with a kind of hope you haven’t felt in a long time.
“will you sleep with me tonight?” wonwoo’s voice is small, almost childlike, and he looks at you as though he’s expecting rejection, his dark eyes wide with worry. he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together. “i don't think i've had a proper night's rest since…that night.”
his gaze drops to the floor, and the silence that follows is heavy, as if he's bracing himself for the worst. he’s so scared that he’s asking for too much, so vulnerable and unsure. he shifts awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. his dark eye circles and pale skin don't go unnoticed by you. “we won't do anything,” he adds quickly, his voice trembling. “i swear. i just… i just want to sleep with you. to feel your heartbeat close, to hold you—” he pauses, clenching his jaw, struggling to put his longing into words as he lets out a breath, “it’s the only way i think i can rest, even just for a little while.”
the way he finishes his plea, the unspoken desperation lacing his words, makes your heart twist painfully in your chest. he’s usually so composed, so steady, but right now he looks as fragile as glass, like one wrong move could shatter him completely.
“wonwoo,” you whisper softly, pulling him closer. his head snaps up, and he looks at you with hopeful yet cautious eyes, like he’s terrified to hope for too much. you reach out, resting your palms against both his cheeks, and he freezes at the warmth of your touch.
“of course,” you say, your voice gentle and soothing, trying to reassure him. “of course we can.” your thumb rubs small, comforting circles over his cheeks, and you give him a soft smile. “i’m here, okay? i’ll stay with you.”
wonwoo’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he lets out a shaky breath, relief washing over his face. his hand tightens around yours, and he looks at you as if you’re his safe place, the only one who can mend the aching void in his chest.
“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice cracking.
“come on, lets have dinner first.” you say as your hands clung onto his, pulling him up with you, and wonwoo takes a tentative step closer, as though afraid you might disappear if he moves too fast. you don’t, though. you’re right there, just as you promised.
and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can finally breathe; and he does. tonight, he found the appetite that he's lost for the past few months, he even slept through the night for the first time in months. wonwoo prays that this is the kind of future that lies in front the both of you. he doesn't think he could do it with anyone else if it isn't you.
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sundew199 · 2 days ago
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Birthday present
a/n: just smth cute to celebrate Zoro's birthday ♡
tags: Roronoa Zoro x f!reader, fluff, dad!zoro, family dynamics, post-canon
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His hands shook as he wiped them from on the sides of his pants, clammy and moist from the nervous sweat he had broken out into as he waited.
It'd been a couple of hours since he received word that you'd gone into labor, caught up in a class and doing his best to rush back to the compound where the two of you lived. The whole day had been a mess, Zoro not anticipating you'd be close to delivering when he agreed to teach a class halfway across the island almost a year ago. Oh well, he can't go back and change the past, all he could do now was apologize and make up for it somehow.
"Everything went smoothly."
Not even hearing the door to the bedroom open, let alone spot the doctor slipping out of the room, snapping Zoro's restless thoughts back to the present. The man looked kind and forgiving, features creasing soft in a reassuring smile as he patted Zoro's arm.
"I'll give you all the time you need, congratulations."
Zoro barely smiled at the doctor as he turned down the hall away from the bedroom Zoro stood outside of. There shouldn't be any reason why he was nervous, right? I mean this wasn't a surprise, sort of planned and wanted so he should just go in and forget about everything swirling in his head. But his stomach flipped and churned and he wished he knew why.
Well. He can't stand out here for the rest of his life.
Slowly pulling back the shoji, slipping inside, Zoro just about melted seeing you cradle a small bundle in your arms, paired with the brightest and yet most tired smile he's seen on you.
"Hey." Falling to his knees beside the futon, grasping the back of your head and placing a kiss on your cheek. "I'm so sorry, I tried to get here as fast as I could."
A soft hand came to silence whatever else might've come out of his mouth next, gently laughing and kissing his cheek back, making the unease in his veins simmer into nothing.
"It's okay, this was kind of unexpected, for everyone."
Zoro cumbersomely laughed, pressing his forehead to yours and then following it with a kiss, reassured to know you weren't upset with him for missing the birth of his first child. You began to scoot over to make room for him, adjusting the baby in your arms and giving Zoro a brief glance. Shit he felt so emotional, a lump rising in his throat and finding no way to make it go away.
Slowly your hand moved the loose blanket swaddled around the baby out of the way so Zoro could see them properly. They were sleeping soundly in the comfort of your arms, it almost didn't look or feel real that he was a father now. He'd hope the realization would've set in sooner, but at the same time the overwhelming sensation coursing through him felt other worldly.
"Can I?" Asking nervously, watching you break out into a small laugh at his question to hold his own child, but Zoro was nervous and it couldn't be helped.
"Of course."
The exchange felt like it was in slow motion, Zoro something of a giant to this new life and instantly on pins and needles when the baby was placed in his arms. Moving as carefully as he could while sitting on the edge of the futon, Zoro looked at you with misty eyes, not quiet crying but overflowing with joy.
"It's a boy by the way."
Hearing you whisper the sweet words and smiling even harder, looking back down again at the baby and adjusting his hold to where he could move the blanket further away from their face. His son made little faces at the adjustments, worrying Zoro for a moment but calming when he continued to sleep.
"I meant to get you a proper gift, but I hope this is okay for now."
Quicker than he could process, Zoro was twisting to look at you fully, uncertainty taking over in his expression.
"Gift? What are you talking about?"
Your sweet laugh confused him further, wondering what you were talking about. Subtly, you scooted closer, hooking your chin over his shoulder and throwing an arm around the other, pressing your cheek to his as you both admired the sleeping baby in his arms.
"It's your birthday today."
Oh.
Oh-
Zoro slightly turned his head with wide eyes, the reminder dawning on him in that moment and suddenly he felt emotions he couldn't find proper words for. His birthday wasn't anything he cared much for, just another year getting older, but he did like the excuse of getting to drink as a form of celebration. He'd been so focused on you and the dojo that his birthday didn't even cross his mind once.
"Shit it is isn't it?"
Lips vibrated on his cheek as you kissed him with another laugh, running your fingertips along his shoulder and humming peacefully.
"Mhm. You don't mind sharing a birthday do you?" Asking with a bit of humor in your tone, pulling the corner of Zoro's mouth into a firmer smile.
"No," Moving to fully turn and face you now, getting himself properly adjusted on the futon next to you, checking in on his son still fast asleep. "Probably just made my birthdays more memorable from here on out."
With his free hand, Zoro cupped one side of your face, locking you into a deep kiss, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone when he pulled away.
"It's not going to bother me, but we never know how he'll feel about it when he's older." Motioning down towards the newborn baby with his chin, breathily chuckling at his own comment.
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Leaning over to kiss the top of your son's head, proceeding to give Zoro a quick kiss as well before curling up into his side carefully, running your hand across the soft newborn hair with your fingers.
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kunigamikingdom · 3 days ago
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angst with toji x reader…… featuring baby megumi.
Toji was a stubborn man. Which was why it was always SO difficult when you got into an argument with him. He would always cut you off mid-statement to make a point that barely matched, or call you dramatic once you started crying about the fact he yelled at you. He was mad. You barely remembered what exactly the two of you were fighting about, but you didn’t care. You just knew he was absolutely pissed, you were upset, Megumi was distracted by TV across the house..
“You know what?! Im done. I’m fucking done toji. Your not even listening to me right now so i’m not even gonna try. Don’t call me, don’t text me, you can throw away the clothes I have here, and tell Megumi i’m not coming home.”
You didn’t even let him comment on it before you grabbed a small purse you had brung over and left, by the time he realized what you were doing and chased after you, you were already driving down the road.
He angrily slammed his head back against the wall, sliding all the way down. The anger was fading off into sadness now. He really did not want you to leave. Just the thought of you not coming home to him, was making him feel like crap. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to go back to his cold, empty, lonely apartment. He didn’t want to not see you anymore. He felt hopeless.
“damn it…”
He quietly whispered to himself, trying to get a hold of his emotions.
Megumi waddled into his room, staring up at his dad with those big green eyes. He would have to break the news that his ‘mommy’ (which he would call you) wasn’t coming home..
He felt like kicking himself because he couldn’t control his damn temper and he had to be so damn harsh to you. He should’ve just stopped arguing with you and not called you sensitive, dramatic, and everything under the sun... He should’ve just listened to you instead of talking down to you. He felt guilty and it’s was eating him up inside. He was trying to hold himself together so he wouldn’t break down in front of his son.
Megumi waddled closer to his dad, reaching up to tug on his shirt. He couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as he looked down at Megumi, his heart clenching when he saw the little boy look up at him innocently. He knew he was going to have to tell him that you weren’t going to be around anymore. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at his son.
“Hey kid.”
He didn’t know how to say it without making the boy upset. He wanted to be gentle with him. Megumi could tell something was wrong just by the way his dad looked. He’d never seen his dad look so upset before. He was confused and he tugged on his dad’s shirt again, looking up at him with big eyes.
”..Where’s mama?”
That question was like knife through his heart. He took a shaky breath as he picked up his son into his lap. He hated that he had to do this. He hated having to tell his son that his mom wasn’t coming around anymore.
*”..Mama isn’t coming back, buddy..”*
He spoke, trying to steady his voice. He didn’t want to cry in front of his son. Megumi’s little face scrunched up in confusion. He really didn’t understand. He didn’t know why his dads girlfriend wasn’t coming back. He was sad and confused and he didn’t like it.
“Why?!”
He whined, now starting to look upset. He felt even more like crap now that his son was starting to get upset. He was already on the verge of crying himself as his own eyes got watery, his chest tightening in guilt. He had to be strong for his son.
”..She’s not coming back because daddy was mean to her.”
He admitted, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Seeing his son like this hurt him. He really did not want to have this conversation with his son.
Megumi’s eyes started to fill with tears and he started to cry. He didn’t understand. He didn’t like that his dad was mean to his mom. He didn’t like that she wasn’t coming back. It was upsetting.
“Make her come back, daddy! I want mama!“
He wailed through his sobs. He felt his heart break hearing his son cry like this. It was like a dagger to the chest. He held Megumi closer, starting to cry himself. His hand gently rubbing his back to soothe him, he tried to force his voice to speak, but he was so choked up, it just came out in broken sobs.
“I can’t..it’s just gonna be me and you now.”
——-
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verstappentime · 21 hours ago
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more of daniel taking care of max when he has a migraine that i didn't post ❤️ if you're just joining us, max had a career-ending head injury and left f1. he and daniel are married but currently broken up!
(part 1/part 2)
“Stay,” Max says, rushed, before Charles can get anything else out.
“Okay,” Daniel says. He tries to clear the lump in his throat. He’s been waiting for Max to say that word, but this is as close as he’ll get, probably. “Tilt your head forward for me.” Max does; Daniel gingerly presses the ice where his head meets his neck.
Max hisses, reaching up to grab Daniel’s forearm. It’s been so long since Max initiated touch with him; Daniel forces himself not to jolt.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry.”
Max groans, gradually loosening his grip. “Can we do the bathtub thing?”
“The– Oh, yeah, sure. Charles, do you have a bath?”
“I feel like you are being the doctor and I am the nurse,” Charles says. He’s hovering closer than a second ago. “Yes, I do, is it for something weird?”
“Nurses are very important,” Max says. Daniel wonders if the meds are making him loopy already.
“It’s not for anything weird. Can you fill it up with hot water? As hot as it can get without burning.”
“Fine. But it’s for him.” It’s too dark for Daniel to see the look Charles is giving him. Just as well.
Daniel stays there, crouched beside Max, keeping the ice pressed to his neck. Max’s breaths are shallow, like he’s trying really hard not to wince, but he’s mostly failing. “The medicine is gonna help,” he says, just for something to say. In the dark, eyes closed, Max reaches around for his hand. Daniel links their fingers, squeezing hard. Max’s hand is clammy and he can’t get a good grip on Daniel, all weak and floppy. “Tell me what feels bad?”
Max turns his face into a couch cushion, making a tiny whining sound. “It’s– like, all the bad stuff. I scared Charles with the throwing up.” He’s talking more, which is a good sign.
“It’s fine,” Daniel says. “He called me and I’m here now, so it’s fine.” He presses his thumb against where Max’s jaw meets his cheek. He’s so tense everywhere.
Charles comes back into the room. “The water’s in the bath. I’m saying again to not do anything weird.”
“We are going to do something so weird,” says Max. He groans as he swivels his legs around to stand up, pressing on his forehead. “Ah, fuck. Shit.” He grabs Daniel’s wrist, squeezing hard.
“Take it easy,” Daniel says, clearing his throat where it’s all thick. He hates this, he hates that Max hurts, that he’s still hurting, and he— he loves, sort of, that it’s him Max is reaching out for. It’s fucking twisted.
Max doesn’t ask to be helped, so Daniel doesn’t offer, just hovers as Max slowly pushes himself to stand up. But Max is unwieldy, swaying a little, and— and he grabs for Daniel again. Maybe it’s just because Daniel’s seen it all before, because he’s fed him and bathed him and sat with him in the middle of the night, but. He’s still being chosen. “Sorry,” Max says, like Daniel would ever want him to do anything else. “My eyes are not so good.”
“It’s fine. I have you.” I always will, I always fucking will.
Charles waves them through to his master bathroom. In the light, Daniel can see that Max’s left pupil is blown. He’s sweaty and he looks like shit, hair all messed up, but he’s Max, and he’s gorgeous. Daniel wants to hold him.
“Max, yell for me if he is doing anything weird to you,” Charles says, and ducks out of the room. Conceding.
“You could have told him we’re not getting naked.”
“I mean, I am taking my pants off,” Max says. “Can I hold onto you?”
Daniel nods slowly, feeling oddly like he should look away. He watches the ceiling as Max holds onto him for balance.
If Max notices him acting weird, he doesn’t say so. “You’ll get your pants wet,” he says instead.
Oh. Daniel glances to the door, where Charles is not. This isn’t what he expected when he woke up today, he thinks, as he’s stepping out of his jeans.
They sit on the edge of the tub, Daniel pressing the ice pack to Max’s neck. It’s an easy trick; get the circulation down into his lower body and away from his head.
“Charles could do this,” Daniel says, after a moment.
“I know,” Max says. He leans his head on Daniel’s shoulder, closing his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but Daniel knows it: I wanted you. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
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ariiadnes · 3 days ago
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╭ ⿻ ・ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part i. )
ଓ.° ・ thoma ・ itto ・ childe. genshin impact. repost.
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❀ ゚. ༄ thoma
"i'm okay, i'm okay! i promise."
the way thoma winces when you dress his injuries betrays a forced smile. you study him, brows furrowed in both concern and distress-- concern at his condition, distress at his failed attempts to downplay it.
you want to say a thousand things-- ask him why he's trying to hide the pain, what happened-- but the lump in your throat renders you speechless and the tears that threaten to form shift focus elsewhere. you inhale, shaky-- exhale, and look away from him. he doesn't need another problem-- and it's stupid to cause him worry because you're on the verge of crying.
it's hard to steel yourself when thoma has always been quick to pick up on your emotions and take them to heart. he notices how you struggle to pick up the antiseptic, takes one glance at your face and the way the tears well up, and perhaps that is the most painful of all.
his hands cup your cheeks so gently that you are afraid the tears will spill. how wonderfully loved and safe you feel in his hold.
"please don't cry," thoma reassures you, and you almost think you hear his voice quiver, "please. i'm okay, i really am."
"i'm not." you tell him that, but you are, and now he is, too. you imagine you both look so silly right now, crying and fretting over each other like it's the end of the world. "my allergies are bad."
"oh." thoma laughs through his tears, pinches your cheeks playfully and in meaning of you're okay and so am i. i am grateful. "so are mine."
"we're really bad at lying." you mumble, and he hums in agreement as he kisses your forehead. you place your hands over his, find closure in the idea that he is still with you, here and now. safe.
"thank you for coming back to me." you whisper, and under the stars, thoma presses his lips against yours in need.
❀ ゚. ༄ itto
itto, you've come to notice, gets hurt more often than one would think. a daring warrior that throws himself entirely into battle, caution and safety disregarded in the midst of adrenaline rushes. he comes home to you with wounds littered across his body; the cheeky smile on his face that appears at the sight of you almost makes the ache in your heart abate. almost.
he tends to forget about the pain, he tells you, so it's okay. he notices the way your jaw clenches at the sentence, how your words of protest die instantly. something in your chest tightens as if someone wrapped their hand around your heart and squeezed and squeezed until the words of innocence fell on deaf ears. because there are only so many times you can see the love of your life injured, and you are losing count.
how many times have you replayed this act before? an unending cycle of hurt and healing over and over again, the scenes blurred and turned into one. you remember where each scar came from -- how you did everything to ensure his wellness, and how the injuries faded into scars to serve as a reminder.
your fingers brush over the gash on his temple. he winces, slightly, but maybe his pain is insignificant in comparison to what you're feeling.
"please be more careful." you say after a long silence. he nods solemnly, finds that his usual lighthearted words of comfort will not do in this situation.
itto leans forward.
"kiss it better?"
you laugh for the first time that night, indulge in his request. a gentle kiss pressed against his temple and the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist. he holds you closely, apologetic in his touch.
❀ ゚. ༄ childe
"i almost think you do this on purpose."
childe grins. you aren't entirely wrong-- but it's not like he tries to get hurt. it's more so that he enjoys the thrill of lethal situations and will jump straight into one for the sake of amusement and the yearning for acknowledgement that he can handle it. that's a bit different, he supposes, but he won't argue.
"i like the attention from you."
"i know you do." comes your flat tone, and you gently tap his chin as if that'll make his grin go away ( surprise: it doesn't ). "have you considered that you could just ask for attention instead of doing...this?"
ah. well, that makes it go away, and now you're faced with a very convincing pout. you sigh; he smiles at your reaction.
he never has the intention of worrying you with small cuts and bruises, not at all. he's completely fine, save for some discomfort and aches here and there, and while he truly does enjoy the attention and care, he's not one to cause you distress on purpose. ( the teasing is fun, though. he can admit that much. )
his expression softens as you inspect the bandage on his arm, fingers sliding down the cloth as a means to make sure it hasn't loosened anywhere. slowly, your hand meets his and he squeezes it tightly in reassurance.
"i'm sorry." his apology is genuine; it always is when this happens. "i'm alright though-- see? nearly at a hundred percent again because of you. couldn't do it without my favorite nurse."
"childe." you poke his forehead with your free hand, but he responds by grabbing it. "if i was your nurse, i would personally fire you."
he's grinning again. how annoying-- is what you want to think, but when he presses kisses against your knuckles, the touch light as a feather but heavy in meaning, you can't help but smile.
--until he talks again.
"you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
"i know. it's annoying."
his laughter rings in the air, and you admit your defeat when you kiss him.
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gilbertscurls · 8 hours ago
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Treat You Better ➵ Matt Sturniolo
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summary: matt could treat you better than your current boyfriend. he's sure of it.
It’s raining, of course.
Matt pulls his hood tighter around his face, eyes cast down as he trudges through the wet pavement on his way to class. The rain isn’t that heavy, just a slow drizzle, but it feels heavier with every step, like the sky is mocking him. The world around him feels gray, blending into the dull ache he’s been carrying for weeks now, ever since you started dating him.
Matt clenches his fists in his pockets, trying to shake the thought away, but it clings to him, relentless. It always does.
He imagines you now, sitting in his car, laughing at some joke as the two of you drive to class together. He picks you up every morning, without fail. The perfect boyfriend.
And Matt? Well, Matt walks alone.
He can picture it so clearly: the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you smile, the way you throw your head back when you laugh, like you don’t have a care in the world. He can almost hear your voice, light and carefree, filling the silence of the car, a sound that he’s only ever heard from a distance.
Because you’re not his.
In his head, though, you are. In his daydreams, in the moments when he allows himself to think about you—and God, does he think about you all the time—you’re his. You’re sitting next to him, your hand in his, your head resting on his shoulder as you talk about everything and nothing. You’re his, not some guy who doesn’t even seem to appreciate what he has.
Matt kicks a loose rock down the road, watching it skid along the pavement before it disappears into the gutter.
He hates that guy. Not just because he’s your boyfriend, though that’s a big part of it. But because Matt knows—he knows—that he could treat you better. He knows that when you’re feeling down, he’d be there for you in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t let you hide your pain behind that brave smile you wear so well. He wouldn’t just brush it off like it’s nothing, the way your boyfriend seems to do.
Would he hold you when you’re feeling low?
Matt shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts that are starting to spiral. It’s not his place. It never was.
He stops at a red light, watching the cars pass by, and his heart sinks when he sees a familiar car pull up to the intersection. Your boyfriend’s car. And there you are, sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window with that same distant expression you sometimes get when you think no one’s watching.
Matt bites his lip, hands tightening in his pockets. He knows he should look away, should keep walking, but he can’t. Not when you’re right there, so close yet so far away.
As the light turns green, your boyfriend’s car pulls forward, and Matt watches as you disappear down the street. The rain continues to fall, soft but unrelenting, and he’s left standing there, alone again, wondering how he ended up here.
He doesn’t even remember when he started falling for you. Maybe it was that day in biology class when you partnered up for a project, or maybe it was when you started hanging out more with his brothers and him, laughing with Nick and Chris in a way that made Matt’s heart twist with something unnameable.
Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now.
Because you’re not his.
But, God, if it were him, he would love you in a way that would make you feel like you were the only person in the world. He’d hold you close when you felt like everything was falling apart, he’d be there for the big moments and the small ones. He’d make sure you never had to feel alone again.
Matt swallows the lump forming in his throat. He’s never been good with these kinds of things—feelings, emotions, letting someone in. But with you, it’s different. With you, he wants to try. He wants to let you in, to show you the side of him that he hides from everyone else, the part of him that’s terrified of rejection but even more terrified of missing out on something real.
If only you weren’t with him.
Would he say he’s in love?
Matt snorts bitterly to himself. He doubts it.
Sure, your boyfriend’s got the car, the looks—everything Matt doesn’t. But does he love you the way Matt would? Does he even know how lucky he is to have you?
Matt kicks at another rock, his heart heavy in his chest.
You deserve more than someone who treats you like a prize to be shown off. You deserve someone who looks at you like you’re their entire world, someone who holds you when you’re feeling low and doesn’t just brush it off.
And if it were him, Matt knows he’d do all of that. He’d love you with everything he has.
But he’s not him. He’s just Matt, the guy who walks to class in the rain while you ride in a car with someone else. The guy who’s stuck on the outside looking in, constantly playing a game he’s destined to lose.
Reality ruined my life.
The thought hits him hard, sinking into his chest like a stone. Because no matter how much he dreams about what could be, no matter how many times he imagines you being his, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re with someone else. Someone who, for whatever reason, has what Matt wants more than anything.
But Matt keeps walking. He always does. Because that’s all he can do. Keep moving forward, even if it feels like the weight of unspoken words and missed chances is dragging him down.
Would he treat you like I would?
The answer is no.
Matt knows that. But you don’t. And that’s what hurts the most.
With a heavy sigh, he turns the corner, his mind still spinning with thoughts of you and what could have been, the rain falling around him like a reminder of all the things he can’t control.
And he keeps walking.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove
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frommybedroom · 19 hours ago
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inspired by this post
Even after he turns in his essay, he can’t stop. It’s not like he’s never written anything before, but those were the silly daydreams of a little boy with his head in the clouds, who dreamed of movie stars and damsels in distress. What he’s doing now is important. What he’s doing now is necessary.
On the third day in a row that he’s late to dinner—so late that Soda has to reheat his plate—Darry says, “What you been writing about, Pony?”
“Yeah,” Soda says, bringing the plate over and setting it down. “You’re always still up when I try to go to bed. I’ve had to replace the batteries in your flashlight twice now. Are you writing another story?”
Pony shrugs. Suddenly, all the words that pour out of him so easily onto the page get lodged in the back of his throat.
How to describe it to them? The urge—to not forget, to hold onto what was. To wring out the words and distill them into a watered-down version of his friends. Those measly words the only things left of Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston.
“Hey, Ponyboy, what’s wrong?”
Pony blinks, and Soda’s blurry face peers at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Darry scoot his chair closer to the both of them. Both wear matching expressions of concern.
“I just—” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “I just want to remember them.”
His brothers don’t say anything. So he keeps going.
“I—I can’t let them just disappear. They were here. They were real. And now they’re not. And I can’t let what their tombstones say be the only thing people remember about them. They were more than just a date.”
Soda leans over and ruffles his hair. It’s starting to grow out again finally, the natural dark roots beginning to peek through. “Don’t worry about that, Pony. You’ll never forget them. None of us will.”
“Yeah,” Darry agrees. “Dallas and Johnny were family, and family don’t—”
“I can’t remember what Mom’s perfume smelled like,” Pony bursts out. “I don’t remember what her high heels sounded like on the floor or the slight burning smell when she would curl her hair. And I try real hard to remember what it was like waking up and hearing Dad make coffee, but it’s gone. They’re fading. Like they were never actually here at all.” He clenches his fists, and there’s still a faint ache in his wrist. “I’m not gonna let that happen to them.”
He doesn’t tell them that sometimes at night, after Soda’s fully asleep and snoring like some dang bear, he sneaks out of bed and into the closet where they’ve kept Johnny’s clothes folded in a neat pile. Sometimes he holds them, brushing his fingers over the ripped jeans; sometimes he can’t bear to sully them. Which doesn’t even make sense because the shirt’s still got some of Johnny’s blood on it so it’s plenty dirty already, but he still feels like he’ll ruin it if he touches them too much or for too long.
He’s broken out of his thoughts by arms wrapping around him. A moment later, another pair of arms joins the first. And then he’s clutching onto Soda’s elbow and Darry’s forearm, and once again they’re all holding each other.
He wonders what this scene would look like to an observer: three boys in a rundown kitchen with grime caked under their fingernails and wearing clothes that don’t fit quite right. Unwanted tears escaping from tightly squeezed eyelids. A forgotten plate of food sitting on the table. No parents or friends anywhere to be seen.
He thinks they would see grief. And heartache and loneliness and pain. But maybe also hope. Maybe also love.
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urlocalmultigroupfan · 1 day ago
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without you (pt. 6)
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pairing: lee felix x female reader
summary: you have been best friends with the 00 liners+chan for a while now. now everyone is in college and when you begin to develop feelings, its getting hard to choose...l
tags/warnings: college skz, liking multiple people at a time, fluff, angst, reader struggles with anxiety and depression, cussing, partially proofread
a/n: yesterday i had been listening to no doubt by enhypen for hours while working... but GIANT CAME OUTTTT OH MY LORDD... *saves to yt music library* anyways this one is going to be on hyunjin 😚 love yall
The air outside had cooled by the time you made your way to the campus courtyard, but the warm golden light of the late afternoon still clung to the edges of the horizon. You were meeting Hyunjin today—another one of your closest friends—but unlike Chan, your time together had become a rarity. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind, and you'd found yourself bouncing between study sessions, gym dates, and nights out with a growing group of new friends. Somewhere along the way, you'd unintentionally let Hyunjin slip through the cracks.
Hyunjin was already sitting at one of the tables, his phone in hand as he scrolled through something on the screen. When you approached, his gaze flickered up to meet yours, and a smile tugged at his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Hey," you greeted, settling across from him. "Sorry I'm late. Was just finishing up a study session."
He nodded absently, not looking up from his phone. "It’s fine."
You felt the weight of his response, the slight tension in his posture, and it made the smile on your own face falter. Something was off. It wasn’t like Hyunjin to be so distant—not to you. He’d always been playful, easygoing, and full of life when the two of you hung out. But today, there was something muted about him.
"Everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," he said, though his eyes didn't meet yours. His voice was flat. "Just tired, I guess."
You weren’t buying it. You'd known Hyunjin long enough to know when something was bothering him, and it was obvious there was more on his mind than fatigue.
"Hyunjin, come on. You can tell me what's up." You leaned forward slightly, giving him your best serious look.
He hesitated for a beat, then let out a deep sigh. He finally put his phone down, folding his arms on the table and leaning back in his chair, eyes on the sky. "I just… I don’t get it," he muttered.
You blinked, taken aback by his tone. "What do you mean?"
"It’s like…" He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "You’re always with everyone else now. Chan, Felix, your new friends, all the time. You barely have time for me anymore."
Your heart skipped at the bluntness of his words. You’d been so caught up in the hustle of school and new connections that you hadn't noticed how much distance had started to grow between you and Hyunjin. Guilt immediately crept up on you, but you tried to keep your voice calm.
"I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. It’s just—everything’s been so busy lately. I didn’t realize I was pulling away." You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. "You know you mean a lot to me, right? You’re my friend, too."
He finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes softer now, though there was still a faint edge of hurt beneath them. "I know," he said, his voice quiet. "But it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I don’t know. I guess I just… miss hanging out with you like we used to."
You let his words settle between you, a heavy silence hanging in the air. You missed it too—the easy way you could talk with him, the days you spent together doing nothing but laughing and playing around. You wanted that again. You wanted to be there for him, to make sure he knew that even though things had gotten complicated, your friendship hadn't changed.
"I get it," you said softly. "And I’m sorry for letting things slip. You’re right, I’ve been kind of all over the place. But I’m here now. And I really want to spend more time with you. How about we go grab some dinner after this? Just the two of us. No distractions."
Hyunjin’s expression softened, though he still seemed a little guarded. He gave a small nod, his lips curving upward slightly, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes the way it normally did.
"I’d like that," he said quietly, his gaze flickering down at his hands. "I just don’t want to feel like I’m… second place, you know?"
You felt a pang in your chest at that. You’d never meant to make him feel like he wasn’t important. "You’re never second place, Hyunjin. You’re one of my closest friends. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that." You reached across the table and placed a hand over his, offering him a reassuring squeeze. "I’m really glad you said something. I don’t want to lose touch with you."
His gaze met yours again, and this time, his smile was a little more genuine. "Thanks. I just needed to know that you still care."
"Of course I care," you said with a light chuckle, though your voice was filled with sincerity. "You’re stuck with me, okay?"
He laughed softly, the tension between you easing just a little. "Yeah, yeah. But you’d better make sure you keep your word." He leaned back in his chair, looking a bit more relaxed now. "And just so you know, I’m expecting you to beat me at Mario Kart tonight. You’re not getting off that easy."
You smiled, feeling the weight of the conversation lift. "I’ll take that challenge. But if I win, you’re buying me dessert."
"Deal," Hyunjin said, his eyes brightening. "And if I win, you’re giving me an hour of uninterrupted karaoke."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you."
The rest of your time together was spent in easy conversation, the air between you lighter than it had been when you first sat down. You promised to make more time for each other, to reconnect and rebuild the bond you both shared. As you walked away, heading to the arcade for your Mario Kart and karaoke session, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.
Hyunjin’s jealousy wasn’t born from a place of malice, but of longing. He had simply missed his friend—and now that you were both aware of the distance that had crept between you, you were determined to close that gap.
And, as the night stretched on, with the sound of laughter and playful arguments filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that your friendships, though sometimes strained, were strong enough to withstand anything.
please don't reblog without permission!
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luluy33art · 3 days ago
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Chloe's Second Chance AU
(ik I'm so creative with names)
A 24-year-old Chloe returns to her 13-year-old body a few days before the events of the show
She is a way more mature Chloe who learned from her mistakes after going to therapy (and after being exiled to New York and becoming independent from Audrey)
She considers New York her true home cuz she never felt truly loved in Paris
After getting better, she was able to be friends with Adrien again, but their relationship was never the same
She had many part-time jobs to be able to survive without Audrey's help
WHEN SHE RETURNS
She freaks out the first few hours and desperately searches for a way to come back home, but after calming down a bit, she sees this as an opportunity to apologize, she still looks for a way to come back tho
She want to go back cuz she doesn't want to go through everything with her shitty family again (being humiliated by Audrey, being traded by the parent who thought he loved her for her half-sister who doesn't even share blood with him, being exiled by him...)
Chloé plans to apologize to everyone, but the priority is Marinette (because she was the one she treated the worst) and she decides it with a apology letter. After finishing the letter she receives a message from Adrien
ADRIEN
He thanks Chloé for persuading his father and says if he goes to school, it will be thanks to her. Chloé sends him a message that she is 100% sure that he will succeed. But she also tells him he doesn't need to be with her all the time anymore and suggest to pretend they don't know each other, feeling guilty about his rough start at school bc he was friend with her.
Adrien is confused and thinks Chloé doesn't want to be friends anymore, despite all the messages, Chloe doesn't answer him anymore. Adrien despairs wondering what happened and has deja vu, feeling abandoned again (mommy issues) his determination to go to school becomes 10 times more intense to find out what happened with Chloe
Adrien still helps Fu, but he's more stubborn this time and pushes Nathalie's hand away, which distracts Gorilla so that he can actually go on the first day this time
He hugs Chloé, causing a scene. When asked if they are a couple, Chloé firmly says they are just friends
She said it firmly and without hesitation. Adrien feels a lump in his throat, but he wonders why, obviously they are friends and always have been so why does it feel so painful?
That's because he recently felt for the first time that he could actually lose Chloe, that friend who was there since he was practically born. Added to the fact that he had recently lost another important person (Emilie) makes him become a little possessive of Chloe
...
Cloe: Are you sure? I still feel that it will be difficult for you to get along with the others if they know that you are my friend...
Adrien: As I said I don't need a friend who doesn't like you
....
Marinette: Are you friends with Chloe? 
Adrien noticed Marinette's obvious dislike towards her friend, he frowns 
A: You know what? Nevermind
He turns around, angry, knowing that Marinette is one of those people he won't become friends with. And Marinette just rolls her eyes 
ALYA
Chloé avoids Marinette and is surprised when Alya greets her enthusiastically. Chloé freaks out at the sudden greeting, wondering why Alya is sitting next to her then she realizes the consequences of not fighting for the seat and tries to pair Alya and Marinette, but Alya is more interested in talking about superheroes.
Chloé, a secret superhero fan (influenced by Adrien when he showed her the magical girls in the anime, but since it wasn't appropriate for a daughter of a politician, she repressed that taste, but after being exiled she didn't have to hide it anymore), bonds with Alya over their shared interest.
Chloé feels guilty for taking Marinette's precious friend but decides to keep Alya as her seatmate since Alya is new she doesn't know about all the bad things she did and it's refreshing to have someone who doesn't avoid her or isn't afraid of her 
Since Chloe never put the gum, Mari doesn't fall in love with Adrien, but she still doesn't like Adrien cuz he's Chloe's friend
Chloé realizes too late the consequences of not putting the gum (Adrien from the future told her) Chloé has no idea how to fix it and doesn't want to put the gum in again either, but she makes herself believe that maybe it's for the best, it doesn't make their first meeting so unpleasant and surely in the future there will be more opportunities for Mari to fall in love with Adrien! (Adrien told her many of their romantic events)
Obviously mari never fell in love with Adrien 
MARINETTE
Marinette receives a letter from Chloé before the first day of school, that letter doesn't let her sleep causing her anxiety.
On the first day, Chloé looks at Marinette sitting in her seat, deliberately avoiding her and passing her by without even looking at her (Mari stares at her expecting her to tease her, but is surprised when she ignores her and wonders if the letter was real, shakes her head dismissing it and "it's probably a trap")
Umbrella scene 
Marinette confronts Chloé about the letter, saying what the hell does this mean 
Chloé blushes saying that it's an apology letter, but Mari doesn't believe her at all
Chloé assures her that it's not true and begins to explain 
C: The reason why I've bothered you so much even more than the others is because I was jealous of you 
M: Jealous? But you're Chloe Bourgeois! The girl who has everything! 
C: Not everything-she said with a sad smile- you have friends who love and support you and a wonderful family that believes in you. My mom abandoned me when I was 5 and my dad sees me as nothing more than a political tool 
Marinette stares at her not knowing what to say 
C: I know that's no excuse for everything I put you through and I understand if you don't want to forgive me but you deserve an apology and an explanation. I'm truly sorry Marinette
M: I-I don't know if I can forgive you, I have to think about it 
C: Fair, although could you accept my umbrella? My limo is right in front so I won't get wet 
Marinette cautiously accepts the umbrella and a clap of thunder sounds at that moment making her heart beat faster causing the umbrella to close suddenly, Chloé laughs before she can help it and apologizes 
C: I'm sorry I didn't mean to make fun of you! It was just something very sudden and- 
M: Haha it's okay, I admit that it was kind of funny 
Cloe smiles at her in relief 
C: See you tomorrow Dupain Cheng -she says before getting into the limo- 
M: A-aha s-see you, why am I stuttering?
AUDREY
Audrey comes back way more earlier bc of Chloe's new behavior (maybe André asked her for help, but I honestly don't think Audrey will listen to him, although that might just get her interest a little) 
So Audrey becomes Style Queen earlier and Marinette is sent by the lucky charm to Master Fu (maybe this happens before Tikki gets sick so it would be the first time she meets the guardian) 
Fu doesn't let Marinette choose the holder this time because he doesn't know her as well as in the series, he suddenly remembers when Chloe helped him on the first day of school and tells Marinette that he will choose the new holder of the bee himself 
Chloé is very confused as to why the miraculous was found somewhere else, but she doesn't think much about it in order to help LB and CN quickly 
Once they win, QB tries to LB returns the Miraculous to LB but LB panics saying not to reveal her identity 
QB is very confused and LB explains to her that she has been chosen 
QB asks her confused if she doesn't know her identity and LB tells her no. She also asks if this is permanent or temporary. (I don't know if LB knows that, either way, if it's just temporary the Guardian will contact her to return it) 
QB agrees and leaves and yes it was temporary (I still don't know how she would return it, maybe Fu disguises himself?)
But Pollen is very sad and tries to convince Fu to make her a permanent hero, flattering her for everything 
Pollen: she is the best Queen Bee I have seen, she is very strong, she is very mature for her age, she is very intelligent and cunning, she knows how to do everything (because of her jobs in her past life) (Basically she is Tikki 2.0)
Pollen does this every time a new Akuma appears 
Someone gets Akumatized 
Pollen: Do you know who could help LB and CN to resolve this quickly? Queen Bee~ 
Fu is a little tired, but I find it somewhat endearing and also understands that kwamis want to go out more
Relations Situation
Chloe likes LB
Marinette likes Chloe (she's in denial but Tikki knows better)
Adrien likes Chloe
Adrien and Marinette hate each other
LB only sees QB as a good friend
Sabrina hates Alya (explained in kofi)
Chloe sees Adrien as a friend/sibling
Chloe doesn't know LB or CN identities
If you want to know more all the lore is available in my kofi! (I'll probably post there new AU ideas and art in the future so stay tuned ^^)
Cooking a new AU rn
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supercantaloupe · 1 year ago
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Apollo is being put to sleep today. his health went downhill really fast and my parents don't want him to suffer any longer
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sttoru · 4 months ago
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Omg could we see reader getting jealous of Sukuna having sec with his other concubines? And maybe liek the other concubine rubs it in readers face?
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀����𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (no comfort), suggestive \\ smut aspects. size difference. one tiny mention of reader being a crybaby. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’ \\ kuna’s an asshole! not proofread, excuse the grammar. no part 2. wc: 3.3k
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you’ve been away from the estate for three days; three days too long for the king of curses. so much had happened while you were away to take some well deserved rest—a small vacation that sukuna had granted you because you needed it.
perhaps that was his first mistake. giving you permission to leave his side ended up being a bad decision. he hates that faint feeling in his chest, the feeling of missing something.
missing someone.
it couldn’t be. sukuna doesn’t have any weaknesses, and yet he can feel his body reacting to that unfamiliar emotion again. all because of you— that one human who always succeeds to occupy his mind.
he couldn’t let himself succumb to it—he’s not going to. sukuna is not going to let a mere human like you deter him from his superior identity that he’s had for decennia. he’s not going to let you have that power over him and his body.
and thus, when you return to the estate, you find yourself being laughed at. you were unpacking your luggage when two concubines stand at your doorway, hiding their evil smiles behind their handheld fans.
they don’t waste a single second and immediately rush to ruin your carefree mood.
“you know, you shouldn’t have returned at all,” the brunette giggles, her laugh sounding like nails scraping against a chalkboard. she looks to the other woman next to her before glancing back at you, “i mean—heh—lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence.”
you figure it’s just another way to get you riled up, so you do your best to ignore them. you put your packed kimonos in your wardrobe as your back faces the two.
yumi, the second concubine, nods along. she knows what she’s about to reveal will get on your nerves. and deserved, if you ask her. they had successfully caught the attention of their king while you were away. for the first time in a good while since your arrival in the estate.
the fact that they managed to spend quality time with sukuna again, is a wonderful first step to your downfall. one that will surely crumble your confidence as his so-called ‘favorite’.
“mhm,” yumi grins as she recalls the memories of her time with sukuna. time spent together that you were unaware of, “lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence when he had me in his bed last night.”
you freeze.
your brows furrow and the corners of your lips twitch. you don’t know if you should believe them—they could’ve lied about it for all you know. although, the voice in the back of your head had already rang the alarms.
guessing by the way they were dying to talk to you the second you came back - which never happens - you realise that they’re probably telling the truth. they’re only telling the truth to agitate you. it’s so painfully obvious, and yet so. . . hurtful.
“what?”
you don’t recall when you’ve choked up. you feel a lump in your throat. it shouldn’t even be there. you promised yourself to not get attached to a monster like sukuna.
so what if he went to bed with his other concubines?
but of course he’ll get pleasure from his other women when you aren’t around. he doesn’t feel any love, he sees it as worthless, so why did you expect him to not indulge himself? he still has his other concubines around for a reason.
you really shouldn’t be surprised by this revelation.
“what do you mean ‘what?’ - you heard me,” yumi shrugs, that cocky smirk still on her face. she’s clearly enjoying your reaction to everything she’s revealing. all the two concubines wanted to get out of this encounter with you, is to break that delusion of yours.
the delusional thought that you’re special to the king of curses—the delusion that sukuna considers you as something more than a toy to emotionally manipulate and play with until he’s tired of you.
“my lord spent all night with me in his chambers until the sun rose,” yumi continues without an ounce of shame. she bites her lip as she remembers the way sukuna had her body positioned on his large bed. for her, it was a dream come true.
though for you, it’s a living nightmare. even if you try to deny the fact that it physically and mentally hurts. there’s a painful twist at your heart—reminding you of the truth.
the truth being that you had truly thought that sukuna wasn’t really a monster of a man. you thought he was a different, more softer person around you.
you should’ve listened to the servants when they told you to not get tricked by sukuna’s special treatment, that he could easily manipulate you and make you do and act as he pleases.
“do you want me to explain it in detail?” yumi crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at you with a menacing glare. both of the concubines are loving that face you’re making. that face of defeat that you’re attempting to hide from them, “how he held me and pleasured me until i—”
“enough,” you cut them off with your hands clenched into fists. you don’t want to hear another word. you’re already feeling awful; already, not even an hour into your return. you can never catch a break.
you have an urge to throw things around. you already feel stupid, and if you decide to throw a fit, you bet that you’d feel even dumber. you truly do not know why you’re getting this worked up about it.
maybe it’s because of the special treatment. the delusional thoughts you have about your relationship with sukuna. you really thought that you two had something special. an unofficial romantic relationship, perhaps, or something that resembles it.
a secret, unspoken deal where you’re promised his loyalty in exchange for your body and soul.
although, those dreams have been shattered this very instance. you’re once again reminded of the animalistic nature of the being called ryomen sukuna.
he told you clearly that he’d never tie himself to someone, a human no less. devotion to one person? why would he.
“out of the way.”
you push the brunette and her sidekick the other way. you’re going to confront the man yourself. or at least, you’ll try to. you can hear their sick laughs and chuckles fade into the background as you stomp your way towards sukuna’s chambers.
the other concubines seem to have gotten the gist. some peek their heads out of their rooms, grinning at you in victory. seeing your confidence slowly crumble and the realisation kick in - the realisation that your dear lord’s special treatment means absolutely nothing - is a sight for sore eyes to them.
you enter sukuna’s room and close the heavy doors behind you. you swallow the lump down your throat and try your best to look presentable.
no tears, you promise yourself. you’re not going to waste them on something like this.
“oh, it’s you, little one,” the familiar voice calls out. sukuna’s low and husky voice rings from his bed. he’s laid back against the many silky pillows, blowing smoke from his kiseru. he lays there like he doesn’t care about your reappearance at all.
he eyes you up and down, “how was your vacation, hm?”
sukuna asks like it’s the most normal thing to do. it seems like he’s trying to catch up with you, to ask you how you’ve been enjoying your time alone, though it also seems like he couldn’t care less at the same time.
“just absolutely fine, my lord,” you reply with gritted teeth and an obvious hint of sarcasm. there’s also a bitterness to your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by the pink-haired man. he frowns—this cold greeting is not what he expected nor what he wanted to hear from your mouth. he expected you to at least smile at him like you usually do, but you didn’t.
on top of that, you seemed to be annoyed with him. that unexpected attitude of yours made something inside of him snap. it irritated him somehow; the fact that you’re so comfortable talking to him like that . . . it reminded him of the recent inner conflict he had which you were the cause of.
one of his hands tightens into a fist at his side. his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow into slits. you’re physically in front of him, which means that he’s also about to experience those complicated feelings again. the same ones he tried fleeing from by letting you go on a break, and by physically taking his mind off you.
he did the latter by taking his frustrations out on his other women. the stress that came with the thought of him possibly liking a human, relieved by pure animalistic sex.
that’s exactly what you’re upset about.
there’s an urge inside of sukuna to act normal. to ignore those difficult emotions and just treat you like he usually does. yet, another part of him is trying to protect his sense of superiority by trying to push you away.
there’s a war going on in his mind as he tries to calm himself down. you’ve always had this effect on him and it’s becoming unbearable. he has to show you, no - remind you, that you’re nothing to him. you mean nothing—nothing at all.
he’s the king of curses, you’re but a human. he’ll need to remind himself of that obvious statement as well. he’s got all the power in this situation. not you.
you cannot rule over him or his mind.
“you dare come back with an attitude? tch,” sukuna scoffs, nearly breaking the kiseru with his fingers as they squeeze around the solid material. he’s turning off whatever emotion present in his body. that doesn’t belong there anyway. he won’t care if you cry—he won’t care at all.
you notice the sudden change in sukuna’s tone as well. you’re sure you’re the reason for it. perhaps you crossed a boundary with how sassily you replied to him when he was simply asking you how your vacation went.
“my apologies,” you murmur with a sigh. you try to avoid getting on sukuna’s nerves any further, yet when you remember the words from the concubine, how she implied that sukuna had given her the best night of her life when you were away, you get mad again.
your eyes have a fiery look in them. you don’t want to get worked up. you don’t have the right to. you were warned from the very beginning to not get attached to an asshole like ryomen sukuna.
you’re to blame for feeling like this. it could’ve been prevented if you just weren’t so weak. if you just stayed away from him.
“did you have fun while i was away, my lord?” you continue, your voice shaking a little. you need the confirmation. you’re sure sukuna knows what you’re referring to by now, especially because of the way you’re acting out of character.
the king of curses raises a brow at your question. you sound even angrier, even more pissed off. he tilts his head after taking a deep inhale of the tobacco from his kiseru. he tries to figure out what you’re hinting at, “what are you—”
and that’s when everything fell into place. the dots connect.
sukuna’s jaw clenches. he realises that you’ve found out about him receiving services from his other concubines while you were away. there could be no other explanation behind your sudden attitude. besides, he knows how his other concubines could be. they must have told you the moment you came back.
normally, he’d say that it’s none of your business. what he does is up to him—he does not care about the consequences of his actions. though, seeing the slight hurt in your eyes, mixed with sadness and disappointment stirred something inside of him. he brushes that feeling away and stares at you intently, awaiting another comment. perhaps you’d cuss him out or bawl your eyes out in front of him.
either way, he promises himself that he won’t care.
sukuna is the king of curses. feeling bad for a human like you would only further tarnish his image, that image of superiority and power he has.
he’s a man of many needs. you should’ve kept that in mind when you left him. he wanted to keep you with him—to hold you down and refuse to let you leave—but that would be another sign of weakness. one sukuna could not manage to show.
when you departed, he was irritated by the fact that he had no one to turn to with his needs. from simple needs like wanting your company to sexual needs like craving your body.
keeping you by his side or letting you go; both decisions seem to clash. either way, there’s one thing he’s sure of, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it: he missed you.
sukuna can’t believe that he can feel an emotion like that. he can’t accept that fact. that’s why his irrational mind took over—his dark urges that strived to prove himself to still be the same old ryomen sukuna. the monster that did not need a single soul. the ruthless man that did not depend on anyone else, especially not a human. a woman like you.
he thought he’d forget all about you if he’s surrounded himself with other women. but, he was quick to be proven wrong, and that only caused to enrage him more and more.
every time sukuna fucked a concubine, his thoughts still manage to drift away to you. to how he wished that it was you he was holding.
nothing hit the same with the other women and that frustrated him. he’d keep them around in his room after he fucked their brains out, something he never allowed a woman to do except for you, yet kicked them out again after a few minutes.
it doesn’t hit the same.
you’re just different. your presence is soothing and calming to the chaotic soul of the pink-haired man. no one else could compare. that realisation made him feel inferior; a feeling he loathes.
sukuna’s red eyes glow. he hates seeing you look so defeated, but he cannot give in. if he tells you the truth, he’ll admit his weakness. he’ll admit that a human like you has completely taken over his brain. that’s no good.
if he doesn’t tell you the truth, he’ll save face. he’ll feel like himself again. his old self—the cold ruthless monster that he was before he met you. one without a soft spot for a human.
it’s an active dilemma that’s running through his mind as he slowly blows out another cloud of smoke. you cannot guess what’s going on behind those intimidating eyes staring you down.
sukuna tilts his head back and scratches his neck, smacking his lips as he makes his decision.
“yeah, i did. i had lots of fun.”
the words sting. they hurt you and make your heart ache in a way that makes you physically weak. you should’ve expected that answer. your shoulders tense up and your fingers curl around the material of your kimono—feeling a sense of anger and betrayal.
you can see a ghost of a smirk on sukuna’s lips, which only reminds you of his nature. his nature as an independent, aloof and cold man who likes to play with his prey. a natural disaster that knows no emotion, that shows no mercy to anyone.
you’re naive for thinking that you could be the exception. all of those times with sukuna were confirmed to be but a lie in that moment. as your gazes meet, you can now easily interpret what that look in those red eyes meant.
‘know your place,’
that’s what it means. you’re foolish, dumb. you take a deep breath to compose yourself after you’ve been made out to be a total fool. you should’ve listened to those warnings, you should’ve known that you were getting played.
this is exactly what sukuna desired to achieve. to build up your trust, to make you comfortable enough with him, to think you’re special and that he won’t need any other woman other than you — just to shatter your pathetic delusions when the time comes.
“tsk tsk. no need to look at me like that,” sukuna scoffs, a mocking laugh leaving his lips. he can hear a small voice in the back of his head telling him to shut up and let you go, to not make it worse, but who is he to listen to that irrelevant thought? he can decide for himself.
“y’ weren’t around, so the other concubines simply did their job by serving me,” he stares the other way, seemingly not interested by your presence anymore. his face is as expressionless as ever, “what do y’ think i keep them ‘round for, brat? for decoration purposes? hah, nah.”
another loud mocking laugh makes you nearly burst out in tears. you don’t know if it’s in anger or sadness. you take a deep, shaky breath for the last time. you unclench your fists and nod, accepting the reality check you’d just gotten.
it’s a slap to the face, but it helped you get out of your delusions. the delusions that sukuna is a man capable of loving someone, even if it is just for a tiny bit. this visit confirmed that there’s not an ounce of love or appreciation in that man’s body.
“i’m glad you had fun, my lord,” you answer after a bit of silence. you bow at sukuna in an attempt to stay polite while struggling with that inner turmoil. you don’t even glance up at him anymore. you need another break already.
sukuna isn’t dumb. you may think that you’re good at hiding your emotions, but you’re not. at least not around the king of curses. he’s spent enough time around you to realise that you’re going through a lot right now.
he’s the reason for it, yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of empathy. he just looks at you with a blank stare, thinking that this is for the best.
“good night then,” you add and turn around to walk out of sukuna’s room. your steps are slow as you secretly hope to be called back, like sukuna would do every time you’d leave his room after an intimate night. you just want him to tell you that this was a test of some sort—a cruel joke.
you want to feel like his favorite again. you don’t want to be thrown away like this. you don’t want to be on the same level as all the other concubines. you want to stand out to him.
unfortunately, you don’t hear sukuna’s voice anymore. he lets you walk away without a care in the world. the heavy doors of his chambers close behind you and you feel your knees buckle. “fuck,” you cuss to yourself and clench your chest.
you lean back against the closed doors and try to regain your composure. crying can be done when you’re in your room—not in the hallway where anyone could catch you. you don’t want to give the other concubines more reason to bully you.
you drag your feet across the wooden flooring. all those times with sukuna, all those slight glimpses of his soft side that only you’re allowed to see— all of that is thrown into the trash.
you really shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him on an emotional level.
meanwhile, sukuna is silently sitting on his bed, thinking back to what just happened. he usually never doubts his decisions, but this is an exception. why couldn’t he just tell you the truth?
his mouth had moved before he could let his mind process all that he was feeling. a small part of him regrets it, though strangely, he couldn’t feel any real sympathy for your situation.
sukuna drapes an arm over his eyes, clicking his tongue at himself. he just wants to let the situation go, though his brain isn’t letting him to. the image of you standing at the edge of his bed, clearly hurt by his actions, flashes through his mind again.
he sighs. he’s sure that he’s going to forget about you soon enough. he needed an excuse to get rid of you for the sake of regaining control over his own being and he took the chance. he should be glad that he did—it meant that he’d be his usual self—with no weaknesses to look out for.
sukuna blows out another cloud of smoke through his mouth. as much as he’s proud of himself for not giving in to you, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander again. you’re probably crying in your room. he knows you’re sensitive. you would always cry about the smallest of things and he’d hold you (feigning reluctance) until you’ve calmed down.
he can’t do that now.
well, he can, but he won’t. sukuna has made his decision today: it’s power and status over you. that’s what it’s always been. you were but a toy he used to get a stronger grip on himself.
perhaps he simply is what people make him out to be; a monster. nothing more, nothing less.
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the-desolate-location · 2 days ago
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[OHHEE BOY! When he heard that? He basically started to scratch the side of his face and head! Harmful stim? Maybe so. However; he’s overwhelmed as HELL. Learning your only true wish was a lie? Kinda fucks with him:(]
“Just. Let me have this., please. I know he won’t ever care about me. Even if his words are lies it. Feels safe. I don’t want to be abandoned anymore.i don’t want to be alone.,-“
[you know when you cry so hard you start to cough? That or you feel a huge lump in your throat? Yeah. He’s doing that but now scratching as his throat/neck.]
“Go-this needs to stOp.. I.,please.,get him. Y. You don’t have to leave! I. I’d prefer you stay.,, you can dislike and hate me all you want just. Don’t leave me again, please.son.?? I. Know I’ve been so. Cold iver the years but. Don’t leave again.please.”
LATE RESPONSE BUT ERM. Hey Scott. Guess who’s back. He tossed the, still bloodied, bat in your general direction.
//@ringingfromthefuture
“…why do you have a bat. On top of that, why is it bloodied?”
[Steven.. is probably near.. avoiding scott trust.]
“Is it. Your blood..??”
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kamitv · 23 days ago
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Saw a pottery video earlier and started thinking about Nanami and how he’d definitely take pottery classes just for fun.
You miraculously attend a class one weekend and meet him there, watching the way his thick fingers dive in and out of the clay over and over and over—secretly wishing that it was your cunt he was sinking those lengthy digits into.
The veins in his hand bulge with every firm press of his fingertips into the moist clay and lord knows your thoughts are everywhere else except for the instructions he’s giving you.
Even when you work on the same item as him and as he guides your noticeably smaller fingers against the steadily molding clay, you can’t keep the erotic thoughts out.
He’d be right there, practically in your ear, hushing out a low, “Juuust like that sweetheart, right there.” In that sexy deep baritone voice of his.
If you weren’t squeezing your legs together before, you damn sure are now.
Hours in and you swore he was doing it on purpose, slipping his smoothly surfaced fingers in between yours and forcing you to curl your digits against the clay as he teased you with his words, “Feel right here? This spot’s important,” You don’t know a damn thing about clay or pottery but you’re pretty sure there’s no reason for him to be speaking like that over some weathered rock.
“Dig in there nice ‘n deep,” Nanami hums right against the shell of your ear. You can feel his hot breath tickling your skin and your lips part to let out an all too lustful breath of air.
Even while he was correcting something you did wrong, your mind was spinning. He’d ease your hands out and whisper yet again, “Not like that, watch me.” Nanami would instruct, tipping his head to the side to find your eyes and watch you watch his hands.
It’s definitely purposeful the way he slides only his middle and ring finger against the wet clay in a downward motion. Then he’s talking again and you’re soaked. “Like this. In and out, sweetheart. Carefully and slowly. Wouldn’t want it to break, would you?” Each word is dripping with a husked tone that makes your legs glue together.
And when he leans in even closer, your breath noticeable hitches. “I’m gonna need an answer from those pretty lips,” He hushes out, voice barely above a whisper.
It’s like it was only you and him in the room—despite there being many other people with their prospective partners or teachers.
Your lips are shaky as they part, “N-No, I-“
“Look at me,” He orders.
Your spine stiffens and your eyes flick up to meet his, only for your lashes to flutter as if to mask the heat that overcomes your flustered expression.
Nanami gives you a kind smile, “There she is. Now, what was that? I couldn’t hear you, you’ll have to speak up a bit for me, pretty girl.”
Your heart clearly wants to jump out of your chest at the intimate eye contact he’s giving you and his gentle words. All as his fingers still dig in and out of the nearby clay. Clearing your throat, you shake your head, “I was s-saying no, I don’t want it to break.”
He nods at your every word and you swear his eyes linger on the outline of your lips far longer than they should be. “Mhm, exactly. Now try again for me.” Nanami requests.
You swallow the lump in your throat and move your hands over to the clay once more. Your entire body feels hot and you pretty much lose your mind when he slides closer to you.
“Careful with the tip, it’s sensitive,” He whispers directly into your ear. Truth be told, he was referring the the edges of what seems to be a small pot forming but, that didn’t matter to you at the moment.
You nod again, “Sorry.”
He hums quietly to acknowledge your little apology and then his hands cup yours again, molding your fingers to almost sensually slide in and out of the forming pot.
Nanami’s lips graze your ear this time and you sigh a little too heavily. “She’ll be set out to dry later but, listen to how wet she is. It’s almost lewd.” He purrs, making your lashes bat at the way he refers to the pot as she instead of an it.
“N-Nanami, I don’t think—“
“Kento,” He corrects, “You can call me Kento.”
You gulp, “Are you-, are we still uhm, talking about pottery?”
The man lets out a low chuckle and he shakes his head, “What else could I be talking about that’s wet and makes lewd noises when you touch it? Hm?”
Oh he’s such a fucking tease.
“N-Nothing, sorry.” Lord knows if you stutter one more time you’re going to lose your damn mind. This is just embarrassing at this point.
“Are you sure?” He presses on, forcing your fingers deeper into the pot ahead. “Because if there’s something else you’d like to talk to me about, I’m all ears.”
Your face is burning. “No. There’s nothing else,” You try to mask your nervousness through words spoken without a stutter but the slight shake in your tone wasn’t helping much.
Nanami hums deeply, the sound vibrating against his throat. “Mmmh, but there is, isn’t there?” He points out, dropping his voice even lower as he moves his lips against your ear again, “Every time I open my mouth, your thighs clench together. Something tells me this soon-to-be pot isn’t the only thing wet right now.”
“I, uhm…” You sigh, “I—“
“It’s okay, I know these sessions can be quite arousing, pretty girl.” Nanami talks to you so quietly and gently, like he’s known what he’s been doing since the start.
“I’m not-, uh,” All you can do is sigh and try to control the constant pulsing in between your legs.
You feel him smile against the shell of your ear before he utters, “Just admit it, you’re soaked.”
How could you not be? Especially when he talks to you like that. “I…”
“Say it for me.” Nanami urges, “I promise I’ll help you after this if you admit it.”
You’ve never admitted to something faster in your life, “O-Okay, fine. Yeah, I am…”
Nanami’s fingers sensually slip against yours, “Good girl.” He hums. You’re so fucked. “See? Was that so hard?” He asks rhetorically, “Now, once we finish with this, I’ll be sure that you do as well.”
All you can do is nod blankly, “Okay…” Then a moment passes as his word truly sink in and you realize what he meant. “Wait, what—“
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screampied · 3 months ago
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✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, unprotected, whiny nanami, using a vibrator on him, praise, nıpple play, mdni.
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“go ahead m- my love but, that’s kind of . . kinky,” nanami sheepishly huffs, slouching further back against the fluffed pillows that rests on the mattress. with pretty umber eyes boring into you, he’s giving your nude body occasional three second glances before he stares between your legs—you’re a mere tease, hovering over his leaky cock. just a few seconds ago, you were riding him and now, you abruptly stopped with a cute impish look curling against your lips. “a vibrator on..me?”
leaning in, you press a wet kiss into the pulled out blue collar of his business shirt he wore. ruffled and crinkled, you smell near the edge of the fabric, intaking a long whiff of his cologne before humming. “jus’ hold my hand, ‘ken,” and he feels his heart race at your sweet words. nanami’s legs sprawl themselves further apart before he grabs onto your hip. another hand finds its way to yours, interlocking his slender fingers within your own. the inside of his open palm was warm and his breath hectically shakes once he hears the faint ‘pop’ sound of you switching the toy on. “thaaat’s it kento, just relax.”
“f- fuck,” nanami’s jaw tightens almost immediately once the rubber head of the vibrator skims its way onto his tip. you’re real slow, pacing your movements but he was already near the inevitable carnal edge. nanami lets off a throaty groan, gradually tossing his head back and his adam’s apple bobs in rapture. as you’re cowering over his lap, you use a free hand to swipe a few blond strands of hair way from his face. so pretty. nanami’s trying to maintain his neutral stoic expression but he ends up shivering right away instead. his sounds were so pleasing to the ear. gruffly low moans came from him—he’s moaning out your name again and again like a broken record whilst briefly teetering his weight underneath you. the jittering toy rubs all over his swollen tip before his abs clench underneath his shirt. “honey, you’re killing me here,” and his bottom lip quivers before he stares at your teasingly jerking body. “let me touch you at least, please.”
amused, you hum at how needy he was.
how desperate he was to touch you more, brushing his fingers inside of the cave of your warm just wasn’t enough. he wanted more.
the toy was on the lowest level—yet, it felt like it was at its highest point. nanami’s pathetically twitching and spiraling underneath you, and you’re not making it any better by leisurely dragging your sopping cunt against the toy and his tip at the same time. “ngh, kento you feel so good, baby,” you feel a tugging coil within your stomach practically snap. nanami’s cock stood tall, rosé-colored with his cockhead glistening with pre-cum. it’s pretty, his balls were all full and a few achy veins prod through his skin at the toe-curling friction.
as the seconds pass, the tumultuous screams of the vibrator only grow louder. nanami’s thigh starts to bounce before his mouth pries open. “aw, ‘s okay, kento. doing so good.”
“honey, don’t ‘aw’ me,” he groans, and you can’t help but giggle at his brief sass. it later turns into a long drawn out moan because he can barely hold his head up anymore. nanami’s entire body feels hot - too hot. with your body so close up to him, he’s burning up, with the help of the toy also. he swallows thickly, failing to get that lump that’s trapped in the far back part of his throat.
your teasing had his blond arched brows curling up in obscene frustration—he even made an attempt at feeling down body but you grab his wrist. a small pout twists against his spit-glossed lips before he grumps. “how are y- you gonna deny me what’s mine?”
you kiss near his chiseled chin, feeling his naturally crooked lips curl from your tender touch. he wants you so bad.
“be patient, baby,” you murmur, hot breath ghosting against his skin. you’re so close that you feel the brief tickle of minuscule hairs that grow underneath his bottom lip. nanami grunts, the vibrations of the toy making him moan. but not only does it make him moan, it makes him whine.
the second you flip the switch to turn it on the second level, nanami loses it. he’s an entire drooling mess underneath you as it’s grazing against his tip. you’re holding the toy with one hand, softly moving it back and forth against his swollen head and poking at his peeling frenulum. his entire cock felt the teeth-shattering convulsions and they feel like straight electricity.
“pleaseplease,” he whimpers out, entirely a abandoning his bland façade. this was a new nanami. you don’t think you’ve ever heard him beg before, let alone hear him whine. his voice was so sweet despite the creeping rasp that bellows from his words. his hair was a mess, nanami’s sweating pinballs as he’s jostling underneath you. his pretty pink lips get gnawed at by his teeth before they start to quiver. “let me touch you, i wanna touch my wife. fuck, jus’ wanna touch you. feel you everywhere, please.”
and as he’s rambling with compressed eyebrows and a needy pout, you lean your head down, pressing yourself right up against his beefy pecs. tears of sweat race down his perfectly sculptured body, although you can spot a bit of a rounded tummy on nanami.
it’s cute. just the way his presentable blond happy trail roams further down toward his decorated pubes, you found yourself staring a lot longer than you intended. “you wanna touch me?” you sweetly coo, swaying the toy back and forth in a circular motion with your entire wrist, feeling his shaking only intensify. he could hear his unsteady pulses from his heart beat through his ears—and oh, he’s never felt so sensitive.
his response was a desperate nod—nanami groans lowly, an almost growl as his lips part. strained breaths snatch from his lungs before his eyes meet yours. as he stares at you intently, he swears he’d fallen in love with you all over again.
nanami was a simple man. a simple pussy whipped man.
“go ‘head, touch me,” you purr, and he doesn’t expect for you to press your lips right up against his pecs - only to then slide your head up his shirt, putting your lips against his neglected perky nipples. as you suck, he doesn’t waste any time, allowing his broad big hands to roam all over your body, savoring your soft skin colliding with the insides of his palms.
nanami then whines again, the current stimulation making him an entire mess and leaving him speechless. with the way he’s sounding because of your tongue salaciously flicking near his sensitive nub, you could barely recognize him from his tone. the warm tip of your tongue gingerly rolls itself around his nipple while you’re still rubbing the toy over his drooling tip. his head tosses back again before he uses a hand to grab onto the wooden creaking headboard. “fuck, fuck you’re an odd one, sweetheart.”
you hum with his nipple still stuffed in your mouth before throwing the toy aside on the other part of the bed. he hears the soft thud before feeling your welcoming warm cunt slowly sink its way back down onto his cock. nanami groans, his eyes widening—lips spreading and jaw clenching. “oh m- my,” he eyes trail down at you, and he pulls you closer into his chest. “honey, you’re so dirty. ‘m gonna cum.”
and as you’re sucking against his pec, nanami lets off a hoarse groan. he’s halfway in and he’s already shooting inside, various creamy ropes pour into you all at once and you hear the familiar squelch. it’s abrupt and so quick it gives him whiplash. his body feels like it’s all on fire—he chews the inside of his cheek before he’s just left stunned with his mouth dangling open. “mmf,” you feel a few viscid strands of saliva dribble from the corners your mouth, and he feels his cock twitch at the sight.
nanami grunts, everything feeling like an indescribable blur. his body including his weighty shaft that’s partially buried inside of you was limp. this candied fervor he’s feeling—he never wanted it to go away. one of his hands cling to your waist, piercing his padded callused thumbs into your soft skin. “ugh, told you,” he grouses, feverish balmy spurts of cum still oozing its way inside. it’s velvety, you feel wads of it spill inside before spilling right back out, painting down the edges of your thighs with ivory white. nanami’s breath was still shaky as you’re playfully jerking forward, barely moving a muscle but to him, it feels like you’re riding him. “y- you always make a mess out of me.”
“good boy, kento.” you remove his pec from your mouth, getting from under his shirt and you cup his face—only to pepper a few sprinkle of gentle kisses near his cute buttoned nose.
his lip quivers at your praise and he almost always gets off from it - your praise. your praise to him was technically dirty talk. as he’s slumped underneath you, all submissive and broken, nanami has the most pussy drunken grin.
“i- i wanna get you pregnant again, sweetheart. wanna make you a pretty mommy again. please, god i need more. more of you.”
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pseudowho · 1 year ago
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Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.
Warnings: 18+, relentlessly fluffy sex
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You were thoroughly fed-up. About as pregnant as you could possibly be, you spent your days in permanent tiredness; belly too heavy and round, and hips too sore to be comfortable in any position overnight, you knew your wonderful husband Kento would take the aches and pains from you if he could.
Lying in bed on your side, pillows wedged under your bump, between your legs, and behind your back, Kento reached a reassuring hand out to stroke your waist as you grumbled to yourself; a full hour in bed now and no chance at sleep. Holding your legs together to support your aching hips, you heaved yourself up sideways, feeling your bones and muscles creak in protest. With a lump in your throat and tears burning in your eyes, you sat on the side of the bed to gather yourself.
You heard the bed creak behind you, and soft footsteps padded round the bedroom towards you. Warm, large hands cupped your cheeks and temples, stroking you gently. You leaned forwards, resting your nose and lips against his lower tummy, nuzzling and planting soft kisses there.
"I'm sorry. You can't get any sleep with me thrashing around. I can go to the spare room if you like," you reassured Kento. You felt his disapproval rumble through his abdomen.
"Don't ever apologise. I'm sorry you're so uncomfortable. For what it's worth, you're doing an amazing job. Not long left, I'm sure. We can get you through it. I'll run you a bath."
You hummed your approval, his hand lingering in yours as he walked towards the bathroom. You heard various containers being clicked, and the bath water beginning to run, before Kento headed back to you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He grasped your hands and helped you to stand, before helping you to remove your pyjama bottoms.
You felt pathetic, useless, ugly, watching your gorgeous husband help you undress. As if reading your mind, he kissed his way playfully up your legs, blew a raspberry on your bump, and pulled you to him.
"You are just as lovely, if not lovelier than you've ever been. Watching you grow our baby has been a total delight and I want you to know that I still find you completely irresistible." You scoffed at him, dubious, puffy-ankled and tearful. He grasped your chin gently and pulled you to look up at him.
"I mean it," he said, voice low and so sincere you felt your eyes prick with tears. Sniffling, you rubbed your nose. "Come on. Your bath should be about ready."
Kento led you to the bath, and held your hands as you stepped in and lowered your body, sighing as the almost too hot water sank into your aching hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you lay back in the scented water, looking at your swollen breasts and belly rising like islands out of the water. Kento watched you fondly for a moment, before slipping away to the kitchen. You faintly heard the click of the kettle, and the clinking of mugs.
Eyes closed, and slowly inhaling the steam, you watched your belly roll and jump, as your baby tumbled inside it. Stroking your tummy, you didn't notice Kento returning with a cup of tea for you. He knelt by the side of the bath, chin on one arm, as he gently splashed water over your moving bump. When his heavy hand rested atop your bump, fingers tip-tapping, your baby stopped as if listening. Kento chuckled.
"Only moving for mama again? Hello, sweetie. We can't wait to meet you." A moment of still, before Kento received a pronounced thump against his fingers. Kento continued to softly brush water over your belly and breasts, watching you intently, utterly besotted, believing with absolute certainty that he would walk through fire for you and your unborn baby.
You felt Kento's eyes bore into you, and you shifted uncomfortably, still feeling like a shadow of yourself, body taken over by something wholly undesirable. However, judging by Kento's gradually darkening eyes as he scanned your body, wet and full, he certainly did not feel the same. You felt your heart squeeze as his fingertips grazed ever so lightly against your nipples, which instantly tightened and pebbled. Kento's mouth watered.
It hadn't been his intention to become so aroused by you. His sole priority had been your comfort, to make you feel good in your body, but he felt his pyjamas growing tighter and tighter as he watched your body in the water, a Romantic-era goddess who deserved to be awash in flowers and adoration. Biting his lip, Kento mentally shook himself off, not at all wanting to bother you with his desire, knowing you were uncomfortable and exhausted, until--
"Kento, I...feel like as much as I want you right now, I just...I--" you hesitated, stumbling on your words as he frowned lightly at you. You reached a hand over the lip of the bath to stroke his bare chest as you continued, "All I mean is, in my current state, there is nothing I could possibly do to make...to make me...an attractive experience for you." You finished weakly, your words falling flat as Kento's dark eyes continued to stare you down, now hungry and, apparently, stubbornly determined to prove you wrong.
Kento hummed to himself again, remaining, as always, a man of few words. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," he mused, "because all I see is the love of my life, beautifully wet, carrying my baby, in a body I can taste in my dreams, telling me she's undesirable, while it's all I can do not to lift you out of this bath and sink my tongue and cock into you until you're too busy calling my name to continue thinking something so ridiculous."
You bit your lip, thighs squeezing together as you felt a familiar heat pool between your legs. Kento leaned into you, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue into you and you gasped as he moaned at your taste. Without breaking contact with you, he reached down to the end of the bath, grabbing the shower head and adjusting its setting. You felt a warm water jet rush against your thighs, as he slowly raised it to the throbbing ache between your legs.
Your head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry and hands gripping the sides of the bath. The hot pulse of water on your aching clit hit you instantly and intensely, and Kento leaned half into the bath, taking your nipple between his teeth and holding your hips still with another hand. You whined and whimpered, hands tangling into Kento's hair, completely wordless with pleasure as he moved the shower head in small circles around your clit, licking your sore nipple.
Your tummy tightened almost painfully, as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, a violent one, overstimulated by the fierce rush of water and Kento's mouth on your sensitive nipples. Kento talked you through your pleasure, voice low and soft as velvet.
"Are you going to cum? I won't deny you. You've earned it. I'll make you fall apart a hundred times if that's what it takes for you to understand what you do to me." You gasped, hands furiously clutching his hair, his shoulders, his chest, your hip gripped tightly by him as you bucked and writhed in the water.
Kento pressed the showerhead firmly against your clit. "Cum," he ordered, and you shouted your pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a train, completely blinded by bliss, face screwed up and whimpering.
Throwing the showerhead aside and turning off the taps, Kento reached fully into the water and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, nose to nose with you before draping you onto your bed. Before you could protest about wet sheets, Kento dropped straight to his knees, bodily dragged your bum to the edge of the bed and placed your knees over his shoulders. You had barely a moment to gather your thoughts before Kento plunged his tongue between your folds and licked a fat stripe from entrance to clit.
You bucked, gasping, hypersensitive and senses on high alert. You craned your neck desperately as you felt Kento begin to suck on your clit, but were completely unable to see him past your bump. Your toes curled against his shoulder blades, hands reaching out, desperate to ground yourself with the pleasure overwhelming you, your second orgasm rapidly approaching, and you sobbed your pleasure into the dark warmth of your bedroom. As your hand reached down, Kento's hand reached up and his fingers laced with yours. You could have cried at the sweet intimacy of his thumb stroking your palm, as you came, crying out and twisting, calling Kento's name into the dark.
Kento lapped at you like a starving man, one hand already freeing his cock from the tight confines of his pyjamas. He couldn't help giving himself long strokes, squeezing at the tip and feeling pre-cum leak over his hand as his thumb swiped across his slit. He shivered, involuntarily groaning into your pussy, and he felt your thighs twitch around his head at the vibrations. By this point, he knew you could barely see straight, panting and gripping his hand, your anchor in the mist.
The thought of you writhing with pleasure above him spurred him on further, and, reluctantly letting go of his desperate length, he pressed two fingers deep inside your pussy, wet and fluttering, instantly able to locate the spongy spot inside you which would send you over the edge again.
You were a mess at this point, tears of overstimulation streaking down into your ears, gripping Kento's hand like a lifeline. You hadn't allowed him to pleasure you like this for weeks, feeling like your body didn't belong to you anymore, and guilty towards your unborn baby for feeling this way. So long had passed that you hadn't realised how desperately you had craved Kento while denying him and yourself.
"Please Kento I can't-- can't--" you babbled, completely incapable of stringing a sentence together. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly again, and you felt his fingers curl up inside you as his tongue flicked practiced circles over you.
Feeling your pussy clench around him again, and you whimpering weakly, thighs shaking around his head, Kento felt his thighs now sticky with his own precum. Squeezing the base of his cock as he gently brought you down from your high, he nuzzled at your thighs, planting light kisses and soft words of adoration. Kento tried to pant quietly, still unwilling to chase his own needs with your body, as long as you were sated and in full knowledge that he adored you still.
Kento felt his hand being tugged by you, insistently.
"Get up here. I'm not done with you." As Kento's face appeared above your bump, nose and chin glistening with your essence, you blushed at the mischievous look in his eyes. He crawled up the bed, hovering over you, caging you in, all broad planes of muscle and protection.
"Do you want to...I mean, I'm just happy if you're happy..." Kento stopped as you placed a finger on his lips.
"Just...help me flip over." Kento growled lowly in approval, and flipped you over onto your knees with ease. He reached up the bed to place pillows around and underneath you, until your bump was supported and your bum arched beautifully towards him. He ran his tongue languidly along the exaggerated 'S' of your back, before placing a playful nip on your bottom. You squeaked and waggled your bum at him, and he placed a firm slap on one cheek as you giggled. Warmth spread through him, delighted by your happiness.
Kento lazily fingered your folds, so wet and inviting, and you sighed, pressing back into his hands. He dipped one finger inside you again, using your wetness to lubricate his cock as he continued to pump himself at the view of you, so open and inviting before him. He leaned around you, caging you in again, now from behind, and you felt so deliciously vulnerable.
His voice, slow and sultry, rumbled through your ear; "let me know if I'm hurting you."
With no further warning, you felt every inch of Kento sheath within you, your swollen pussy sensitive and clenching instantly, and it took all of Kento's restraint not to cum right there. Holding your hips tightly against his, his head rolled back in bliss and he sighed deeply, grunting as he pulled out and sharply thrust back into you again, relishing your squeaks and gasps.
Kento wanted to hold himself back, but, desperate to show you exactly how desirable he found you, his hips took on a life of their own, slamming repeatedly into you. He groaned and panted, eyes fixed on where his cock sunk into you, watching your wetness coat his thighs until the room was filled with wet slaps and guttural moans. You had given yourself over to him completely, and lay prone, back arched and arse in the air, relishing in the deep aching pleasure of being utterly railed by the man who treated you like a captured goddess.
Kento felt so guilty that having only been pleasured by his own hand for weeks, through no fault of your own, he chased his orgasm like a needy virgin. Wordlessly, he arched over you like an animal, forearms caging your head. As you sank your teeth into one forearm, kissing, licking and mewling, he felt cum shoot through his cock with little warning, gasping and shaking as he came, feeling his seed drip out around your folds, so much after so long, and he was lost in a haze of pleasure for what felt like minutes.
Catching himself before he collapsed down onto your back, Kento gripped you to him and flopped sideways, still inside you as he spooned you, teeth sinking into your shoulder with unashamed worship. His lower arm snaked under your neck to rub lazy circles on your breast, while his upper arm cradled your bump, holding you, never wanting to let you go.
"I love, revere and adore you," Kento intoned into your neck, "even more so now you're sacrificing so much to give me everything I ever dreamed of." You felt tears prick in your eyes, completely awash with his sincerity. "So please, don't ever think you're ugly to me. I will love your body and mind with every change. I celebrate it."
Planting gentle kisses to your temple, Kento moaned as he slipped out of you. Lifting you into bed, he grabbed a soft cloth from his drawer and placed it lovingly between your legs before arranging your pillows with the skill of an expert, and covering you with a dry blanket.
You began to feel sleep roll over you as Kento replaced the wet sheets. As you began to drift, feeling your baby tumble within you, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kento would love you, and your baby, through any and every storm along the way.
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I post this fic in celebration of being blissfully married to my own Nanami, in advance of the birth of my 3rd and final baby ✌️ Every woman deserves a Kento to worship her.
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