#give yourself permission to be whatever it is you want to be

[callalillywrites]

Midterm Inspiration

Written for @steverogersbingo. C2 - Art Class.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Steve Rogers Bingo | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Modern Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x Female Classmate!Reader

Word Count: 2167

Summary: You and Steve must complete your midterm projects for art class. With a little inspiration from one another, you just might pull it off and gain something a little extra for all that effort.

Warnings: mutual pining/attraction; fluff; lots of fluff; some whining about art projects but not too much; gentlemanly Steve; sweet Steve; smitten reader

A/N: I did write this fully with pre-serum Steve in mind, but minus a sentence or two, you can also absolutely imagine 'normal' Steve for this piece if you'd rather.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

"Don't forget your midterm projects are due next week," the professor shouted over the din of gathered backpacks and other supplies. "It's worth a third of your grade."

"As if I could forget," you mumbled beneath your breath.

You'd filled up one sketchpad already with various ideas, but nothing had stuck out as good enough. Certainly not good enough to earn you a good enough grade on this project.

If only your professor had allowed you to switch to what you were good at. Portraits. That's where you shined even if your technical skills lacked a little. But, no, you'd picked landscapes from his blasted hat.

Sure, you could do a few specific animals, but you hated drawing trees and flowers and especially architecture. They never turned out as they should. Something was always off enough to make others second-guess whatever it was that you'd drawn.

At least with people, you could always get enough of their likeness and their personality that others could easily identify the person you'd drawn.

To make it more complicated, you had to choose the art style you'd be making said landscape. The options almost limitless, which presented its own problem when you had no idea what type of landscape you wanted to do.

"It can't be that bad," Steve, your table buddy, said, his shoulder bumping yours.

You scoffed. "Says the best artist in our class. I'm sure you finished your midterm masterpiece weeks ago."

When he didn't say anything, you glanced up from gathering your supplies to find Steve's cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. His eyes quickly dropped to a small nick on the table's edge near him. His nail picked at it as he seemed to struggle with his answer.

"Please, don't tell me you're stumped, too. If you are, then I'm surely doomed," you said so only he'd hear, only half-teasing. If you couldn't figure it out by the end of the day, you feared you wouldn't ever figure it out. To have that happen, it would mean a repeat of this class, which you could ill afford to do with your demanding course load and the strict plan you had in place for yourself.

Steve slowly shook his head. His voice was so low you could only make out the first half, "No, I have it pretty well planned out, but I…"

Like you, Steve had drawn his project's subject from that same blasted hat. But his had been what you'd wanted. Portraits. While you'd seen his skill at them, the few sketchpads he'd shown had been filled with various pieces of architecture, the cutest little animals he'd spotted, and quite a bit of nature. He'd do a landscape justice if he'd chosen it from the hat instead.

"Would you like me to look at it? Offer some insights?" you asked, really wanting to help him out. It didn't matter that he was the best in the class. You hadn't been lying about that, but you also really wanted to help him out.

More like, you really wanted to spend more time with him.

Steve wasn't like any of the other guys you knew. He was a gentleman through and through. From opening doors to pulling out your chair to even loaning you his favorite pencils, he always made sure you were taken care of. While most guys would do it to win points, you knew these actions were so much a part of him. It would never occur to Steve that they weren't expected of him. Not nowadays anyway.

Yet, it didn't stop him from doing them each class for you.

And you couldn't help the crush you'd developed, either. It went so much deeper, too, with Steve than it had with any other guys from your past. Him having manners was a small part of what made you fall for him. It was everything about him. His blue eyes, his laugh, his caring nature, and especially his sassier side. It was his zero tolerance for bullies and his sweet nature towards those with less than him. He never forgot where he came from, and you knew he never would.

How could you not fall for someone like him?

Steve coughed even as he ducked his head. It did little to hide how pink his face had gotten. He followed up another shake of his head by saying, "Nah, I'll figure it out."

"Are you sure? I really don't mind."

"I'm good," another cough escaped him before he cleared his throat, "but I'm free if you'd like some help with yours."

You couldn't help the smile that slid over your features.

Every week, he asked you in some way to join him after class, and every week, you accepted. It'd been like that since your first day of class.

The two of you had just hit it off.

Maybe it was the way you'd practically landed at his feet after tripping over someone's backpack strap. Or maybe it was the way he'd stood up for you when that same person yelled at you for trying to wreck their stuff. He didn't have a snowball's chance of winning the fight with the burly football player, but he'd stood up anyway.

To make your bond even stronger, he'd even offered you some of the snack he'd brought with him as you dusted yourself off. He was never without some type of healthy snack and always too small to typically share with someone else. It never stopped him from offering.

"Got a place in mind?" you asked, picking up your stuff and situating it in your arms. "The cafeteria or off-campus this time?"

"Off would be nice but only if you want to."

Unable to help yourself, you leaned into his space and pressed the quickest of kisses to his cheek. The impulse was something you'd never really indulged in before, but you just couldn't help yourself this time.

Pulling back, you caught how much more pink had suffused Steve's cheeks. It might've worried you if not for how quickly his shock was giving way to the largest grin you'd ever seen on him.

A few jeers were lobbed your way and Steve's, but neither of you paid any attention as you said, "I'll drive. Tell me where you were thinking."

Steve nodded. "My treat this time, okay?"

You didn't dare argue, letting him lead you out of the classroom.

*****

That lunch had really been the real beginning for you both.

Not only had he helped you with some real inspiration for your midterm landscape piece, he'd promised you'd been just the inspiration he needed to finish his own midterm portrait. To your dismay, though, he refused to go into any details about it or even give you a single hint of what he was going to do. Nope, he kept completely mum about it, changing the subject every time throughout your lunch together.

Midterm schedules worked out in such a way that you didn't see Steve again until late the following week.

You'd missed him even as you spent most of your time studying for other exams and getting the final touches on your art project. It would've been nice if you could've done more than the occasional texting you two allowed yourselves.

At least, you'd get to see him during your art class's scheduled midterm.

Easels lined the outer edges of the classroom, awaiting whatever piece someone had made. Some of them were already occupied by fellow classmates. Your gaze swept over their pieces as you sought out the easel with your name on it.

If you also happened to seek out Steve's easel, you couldn't be blamed for that.

Honestly, it was his fault that you did.

Since your lunch together, he'd continued to tease you about his project though he still refused to give you any real details or hints about it. The way he'd built it up though, you were practically buzzing with anticipation at seeing it finally.

When you came upon your assigned easel, a quick glance to the side told you Steve's easel was next to yours, but it remained empty. A small pang of disappointment tugged within you, but you pushed it aside, knowing he'd be there soon enough.

With the few minutes you had left, you carefully set your piece on your easel. Not about to waste those final bit of time you had, you checked for any flaws that could easily be touched up. It wouldn't take much as you'd gone for a simpler style with your time constraints. Minimal color filled in the mostly soft black lines you used to provide all the details of the scene you'd chosen to depict.

"Wow," Steve breathed behind you, making you jump as you'd been concentrating so hard. "You did an amazing job, but I had no doubts you would. Your attention to even the smallest details really comes through despite the few lines you've actually used. It's like being back there all over again."

"It was a good day," you murmured, a small smile gracing your lips. Your midterm project really had come out better than you'd thought it would. There was no doubt as to why, either, as your reason was standing right behind you. In a bold move, you added, "I wouldn't mind going again soon. Maybe make a day of it instead of an afternoon."

You dared a peek over your shoulder to see Steve's mouth dropping open.

He recovered quickly enough and offered you a hopeful smile that dared to light up his entire face. "You'd really want to? With me, right?"

A soft giggle escaped even as you nodded.

"Mr. Rogers isn't wrong. This is an amazing piece," your professor said, coming up to the two of you. His wide grin as he studied your piece was enough to have your feet leave the ground. "I'm glad I held my ground. If this is what you can do when you don't want to, I'm curious to see what you'll do when you have carte blanche for your final project. I'm expecting great things from you."

"I won't let you down, sir," you said, barely containing the squeal that wanted to erupt from you. Your gaze moved from your professor to Steve who shot you two thumbs up. Your desire to squeal settled into something warm and fuzzy in your chest as you added, "I had some really great inspiration to help me with it."

Neither you nor Steve noticed the amused glance your professor had as his eyes bounced between you two. A chuckle escaped him as he mumbled, "Indeed."

After another moment of simply watching you two being so smitten, your professor cleared his throat. "Alright, Mr. Rogers, let me see your piece, then you two may head out for whatever awaits you next."

Steve nodded though he grew fidgety as he slowly pulled his piece from its protective sleeve.

It took you several moments to recognize the inspiration for Steve's portrait.

When you did, you couldn't help the gasp that escaped you.

"That's me," you breathed.

He'd gone with markers for his piece and fine-line pens for the finer details. It was in the finer details where he'd really made you look so beautiful. The realistic vision he'd gone for surpassed your greatest expectations, especially when you noted the light reflected in your eyes. There was something else in them that you couldn't quite define, but you really wanted to.

"Very well done, Mr. Rogers. I'll take them from here." Your professor quickly shooed you both from the room though his smile remained kind. "Now, you two, go on. I'm sure you have plenty to talk about, and I'll be looking forward to whatever else you create the rest of this semester."

He shut the door before either of you could think to say anything.

Left alone in the hall, you turned to Steve, only to find him fidgeting worse than he was before.

"I hope I didn't overstep," he said, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck. The other clenched and unclenched at his side, still gripping the protective sleeve.

Not wanting him to doubt your feelings another second, you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his. The kiss didn't last long, but you poured everything you could into it. Even as you pulled back, you didn't go far, choosing instead to rest your forehead against his.

"Steve Rogers, will you be my guy?" you asked in another rare show of bravery.

This time, his lips were the ones to meet yours before he pulled back and said, "I was supposed to ask you that, but yea, I'd really like that. Can I take you out this weekend? Maybe go back to that spot you drew from memory so well?"

You matched his hopeful smile with a sweet one of your own.

This, you knew, was going to be the beginning of something wonderfully sweet.

[forkshighschooler]

Chapter 3 — The Breaking Point

Summary:You confront Paul again after a close encounter, and he finally reveals the truth: he’s a shapeshifter, part of a wolf pack and you… you’re his imprint. You’re confused, shocked , and scared. You didn’t choose this. You leave him behind, but something inside you already feels changed.

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5

You didn’t go looking for him again.

You tried to get back to normal. Whatever normal was now. But something had shifted—like the shape of your world had subtly changed without your permission.

You worked your shift at the coffee cart with trembling fingers, fumbled a cup, ignored Katie’s questions. You kept your head down. Didn’t check the tree line. Didn’t go near the cliffs.

But he was everywhere.

Not physically. But in your skin. In your thoughts. In the way your senses felt too sharp, like the world had turned up the volume and your body hadn’t adjusted yet.

Every instinct screamed that something was about to give.

⸻

It finally happened three nights later.

You were walking home late—later than you should’ve been. The sky had cracked open with a sudden storm, and your umbrella had flipped inside out uselessly a block from the cart. You were soaked, jeans clinging to your legs, hoodie heavy and cold. Your boots squelched against the mud.

The woods pressed close around the path. The wind moaned low and eerie through the branches.

And then—something moved.

You stopped.

It wasn’t just the wind. You knew the sound of the forest, knew its natural rhythm—and this wasn’t it.

It was the kind of silence that comes when something is watching.

You turned slowly.

Eyes. Low to the ground. Luminous in the dark.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The creature stepped forward.

A wolf—but nothing like the wolves you’d seen in books or on documentaries. This thing was huge. Massive. Taller than you even hunched down. Its fur was dark, soaked and bristling with rain, eyes intelligent and locked on yours.

You froze.

Your mind screamed run, but your legs refused to move. The wolf took another step, slow, cautious.

It wasn’t growling.

It wasn’t attacking.

It was… studying you.

Something inside you snapped. You staggered backward, slipped in the mud, hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs. Pain jolted up your hip. You blinked up through the rain—expecting teeth, claws.

But the wolf just… stood there.

Still. Watching.

Then it huffed—low and frustrated, like it was exasperated—and turned, vanishing into the trees.

You sat there in the mud, chest heaving, cold water soaking through to your bones.

Nothing made sense anymore.

⸻

You didn’t sleep that night.

You wrapped yourself in every blanket you had, but the cold was inside you now, not outside. And that image—those golden, knowing eyes—was branded behind your eyelids.

You tried to rationalize it.

It was just a wolf. A wild animal. Maybe it had wandered down from the mountains.

But wolves didn’t look at people like that. Wolves didn’t choose not to attack when you were vulnerable on the ground. Wolves didn’t sigh in frustration.

Unless it hadn’t been a wolf at all.

⸻

The next day, you found him waiting.

Paul was leaning against the side of your house like he’d always belonged there—drenched in sunlight this time, not shadow. Hair wind-tousled, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw clenched like he was holding something back.

You froze halfway up the steps. Your throat dried out.

“You knew,” you whispered.

He didn’t move.

“That thing last night,” you continued. “That wolf. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Still, he didn’t speak. But something in his expression cracked—a flicker of guilt, of conflict, of pain.

“Oh my god,” you said, stepping back. “What are you?”

Paul pushed off the wall slowly, moving with that same coiled tension you’d come to recognize—like he was constantly fighting something inside himself.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he said. “Not yet.”

“What were you waiting for? Me to lose my mind?”

“I was waiting for you to be ready,” he snapped, then stopped himself, took a breath. “You don’t get it. It’s not something you just drop on someone.”

“You turn into a wolf.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”

You stared at him like he was speaking another language.

“And what?” you said, voice rising. “You’re some kind of shapeshifter?”

“Werewolf,” he said. “Technically.”

You laughed, high and hollow. “Technically?”

“Call it whatever you want.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his whole body tense. “I didn’t choose this. It just… happened. And now I’m tied to it. And to you.”

That stopped you cold.

“Tied to me?”

He looked at you like that word hurt. “It’s called imprinting.”

You shook your head. “No. No, you’re not saying what I think—”

“I’m not your stalker,” he said, voice low and firm. “I didn’t pick you. I didn’t even know it was going to happen. But the second I saw you, I felt it. Every cell in my body shifted. You’re it for me.”

You swallowed hard, heart thudding in your ears.

“I don’t want that,” you said, voice cracking.

“I know.”

“I don’t need a soulmate or fate or whatever the hell this is—”

“I know.” He stepped closer, and you didn’t move. Couldn’t. “I’m not asking you to feel anything back. I’m just trying to survive this without falling apart.”

He looked exhausted. And vulnerable in a way that made your chest twist.

“I can feel when you’re close,” he said, voice softer now. “I feel when you’re hurting. When you’re afraid. I knew you were in trouble last night before you even screamed.”

Your lip trembled.

“I’m not trying to force you into anything,” he said. “But you needed to know.”

You looked up at him.

There was no threat in his eyes. Just longing. And something deeper—something ancient and terrified.

You didn’t know what to say.

So you didn’t say anything at all.

⸻

That night, you sat on your porch long after the sun went down, knees hugged to your chest, a blanket around your shoulders. The stars were dim, clouds moving in again, but you stayed anyway.

The pull was there, curling like smoke inside you.

He hadn’t come back.

But you knew he was close.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to stay away.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

[melancholic-pigeon]

Alright, this is my last comment on the issue, for real this time.

@nerdykeppie is staffed by unprofessional, rude, cruel people who double down on their entitlement to be unprofessional, rude and cruel in public to their former customers.

You should know the sorts of people you're giving money to if you patronize them. The founder is liable to misread your words, lash out at you in anger over something he misunderstood, and generally behave like a tantruming child even if you go out of your way to be polite and give him the benefit of the doubt when he lashes out at you over his own poor reading comprehension.

I'm done getting into this. No, Spider is not ~required~ to be professional on his (public) personal blog which is closely tied to his business. I just think it's extremely stupid to double down on his "right" to be unprofessional on his public blog when he owns a business that is clearly tied to said public blog, because it reflects very poorly on both his personal character and his business. I think it is hilariously foolish and an extremely poor decision to openly advertise and defend your founder's unprofessionalism, which speaks of general lack of professionalism and poor judgment throughout the whole business, not just from Spider (though his lack of good judgment and public unprofessionalism is the most obvious).

So. Best of luck in the people involved resolving whatever problem in their lives that they're taking out on me, and beware interacting with them in any way because they will absolutely be rude as shit to you and then smear you in public and private for (/checks hand) apologizing for a miscommunication because you didn't mean what they incorrectly interpreted you to mean.

I can't fucking believe they still think they're in the right here and *I* am the one who needs to be ~asked not to contact them again~. You answered me THREE TIMES *after* I had blocked you because you cannot let go of the fact that you were wrong about a stupid fucking plastic pumpkin and the fact that I went OUT OF MY WAY to give you the benefit of the doubt.

(two of those three asks were frantic apologies because I genuinely felt terrible, and they were both met with meanness and scorn and snide insults about my communication failures.

Lol. Me. I'm the one who is failing to communicate and has poor reading comprehension because you misunderstood me and started lashing out like I personally strangled all of your pets for having the filthy nerve to apologize and try to clear it up.

Yeah. I'm the villain here. Sure, Jan.)

I'm done now, but enjoy having your unprofessional, cruel, immature nonsense publicly exposed. I stand by my actions (the ones I actually took in real life, not the fake pretend ones you made up because you misunderstood what I wrote) and I look forward to you experiencing the natural consequences of your own.

Don't give money to childish jerks.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

comparing yourself to others will kill you and the reason why is that even if it starts out innocently enough, as appreciation, as "oh, that's so good, that's so much better than me, i could never!" the "i could never" starts to stick and eventually you'll realize that the reason you could never isn't because you're not able to, but because you've told yourself for so long that "you could never" that you straight up aren't letting yourself improve.

appreciate others. learn from them. but never think "i could never." give yourself permission to make your art and put everything, and i mean everything, you have into it. you can. you will. just let yourself.

[karmaphone]

as a pagan who specifically wants their gravesite 'overtaken' by nature and decomposed to the best of the earth's ability it's somewhat disturbing to me to see people going around cleaning graves without asking anyone first

[dice-boy]

lmao just about posted a question about whether something we do/experience is okay before I realized I don't care

[howlettsdarling]

‘your girl’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ logan howlett x female reader

summary ;

short drabble of logan having a girlfriend who can barely go a day without his touch (yet he’s really not any better)

logan was a strong man. everyone knew that. they all saw his gruff exterior, the rough mutant who had been carrying blood on his hands for centuries, who was even deemed ‘unapproachable’ by some.

yet, those who did try to approach him, either ended up being pushed away or in his bed.

or… in the middle, somehow, and found a somewhat gentle, less rough side of logan: that wasn’t sexual yet also not necessarily mean.

you were in the middle for a while. especially when you met him for the first time — his first thoughts were lustful, greedy — depraved even — if you may — but something inside him stopped him from acting on these actions. maybe your age? you were a little younger than the other women he had been with, and also a little smaller. everyone was small to him, of course, the man was huge, but something about you … there was another side of him that just wanted to treat you gently, handle you with care.

and he had never felt that way about anyone before. well, barely anyone — only a few people had ever reached his heart that way.

he also sensed the same feeling from you, but yours was more… open. well, open is an understatement — you would always cling to the man, trying to grab his attention, asking his opinion on stupid things down to even your outfits sometimes. he found it a bit ridiculous, yet a deep part of him, a part he tried to hide, was tugged at everytime you were near him, at first innocently, like he was willing to have you drag him back to your room just to have him approve of every little outfit you were self conscious of yourself in, but then it got a little more heated: when he would be in the same room as you, even just casually in the kitchen, and you would come in — a scent wafting around you that he knew all too well, a scent only he could pick up on — of your body’s neediness.

and that only increased when you two finally got together.

when you two started dating, he thought you would maybe lay off on the neediness and clinginess; but it only got worse, that even after a night of having logan taking care of all your little problems, you were just as desperate the next day.

“logannn…” you would hum softly — approaching him as he sat on the couch, or the bed, or even when he was just trying to train. anywhere, you would approach him in that innocent little hum, that logan knew all too well by now. he knew, that whenever you skipped over to him like that, he would probably end up dropping whatever he was doing to take you back to whichever bathroom or private room was nearest, just to satisfy his girl.

or, there would be times where he really was tired and didn’t even have the energy for that, usually late at night after training all day or being out. you would come into your guys’ shared room, straddling his lap in an instant with that little hum of yours. he would huff and roll his eyes, his hands however coming to rest up on your hips anyways, enjoying the feeling of being able to squeeze them so easily in his huge hands. “sweetheart, ‘s late. come on, i’ll give you something in the mornin’… not now.” he would try to reason, only making you huff as well, shifting over to move onto his lap — grinding gently onto it already, letting him feel the wetness of your clit through your little sleep shorts and the rough fabric of his jeans. he knew it was pointless to argue with you, and he didn’t want to leave his sweet girl unsatisfied, so he would sigh, giving in with a nod of his head and a rough, verbal confirmation. “alright baby, go ahead..”

your heart would flutter at the granted permission, as well as your stomach as usually during nights like this you would start to grind your sweet, clothed little pussy against his thigh, shamelessly getting off to just the feeling of the strong muscle covered by his jeans nudging your clit with every movement of your hips: back and forth, back and forth — with logan’s hands eventually sliding up your shirt, looking at your already blissed expression, biting back your whimpers and moans the more you humped against his thigh — and as his rough hands played with your pretty tits, until you reached your peak.

or, maybe days where he had more energy. days when eventually he would end up getting worked up too. like when that simple thigh grinding could end up with him pulling you onto his lap instead and finish off by grinding on his bulge, or even riding him — and then there were also times when he would pull you into nearby bathrooms or empty rooms, pulling your skirt or dress up on those days you would dress up for him, and shamelessly lapping at your pussy like a starved man, like he needed this more than you did; the sweet taste of your arousal on his tongue making his dick desperately ache and twitch against his jeans. it drove you absolutely wild those days to see how much he craved you too, how he could barely go a day without getting you on him in someway, whether it be just holding you and kissing you innocently, to being buried into your sweet heat till you were a sobbing mess against him.

anything his needy girl wanted.

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

This is your daily reminder that autocrats thrive on hopelessness. They thrive on fear. They win when the people become resigned and believe that fighting back is impossible.

Listen, there’s simply no denying that we are on the road to autocracy. But, believe it or not, we’re not there yet. (Yes, it’s true!) We can turn back!

But in order to do that, we have to believe we can.

There’s an Eleanor Roosevelt quote that gets repeated so often, it’s almost lost its meaning, but I still think it’s worth revisiting in a new light:

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

Don’t give them permission to make you feel lesser! That’s what they want! They want you to just roll over and accept their dominance!

Listen, I know this whole situation is so fucking exhausting. And wouldn’t it be so great if we didn’t have to fight so hard for our basic rights and freedoms? But these are the cards we’ve been dealt; we’re in this fight whether we like it or not.

So, do whatever you need to do to keep yourself sane. We’re in this fight, but we need to take it in shifts or else we’ll get burnt out and then they win.

Keep yourself sane. Find the moments of joy wherever you can. And remember that no one gets to make you feel lesser just because they want you to.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time. 

contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!

a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 

A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 

And now you. 

In something pink—

—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—

He’s certain, 200% sure. 

It’s lingerie. 

He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 

You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.

And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 

Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 

He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 

There’s only one way to find out, really. 

He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.

If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 

And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“

“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.

So you didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 

But he doesn’t want that. 

Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.

Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—

Do you have any idea what that does to him? 

“Are you wearing lingerie?” 

You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 

You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 

“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 

How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?

You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 

He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 

You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 

There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.

You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 

And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.

You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 

“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.

“Okay, you can look.” 

As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 

Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?

You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.

But—

How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?

If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—

He thinks he might have just died right now. 

Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 

It’s heaven. 

You’re a sight. 

While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.

And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   

He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.

The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 

The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—

“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.

He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 

And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.

“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 

That’s enough. 

He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 

Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 

It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 

Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 

You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 

And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 

“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 

“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 

He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 

You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 

“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 

And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 

.

Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 

“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 

You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.

thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[bloomzone]

2025: #2 u are the main character of ur life

✒️.U.NEED.TO.GET.CRAZY.ABOUT.UR. LIFE .THIS is ur life. your story, your movie and You’re the main character of it . But here’s the problem—you’re sitting there, acting like you’re just an extra. Let me ask you something: when are you going to wake up? When are you going to stop living like someone else is writing your script? Because newsflash—nobody else cares as much about your story as YOU should.

N1 You’re Not Here to Be Average

Do you feel it? That spark inside you? The one that says you’re made for something bigger? Stop shoving it down. Stop telling yourself, 'I’m not special,' or, 'I’ll never be that person.' Because let me tell you something—you already ARE that person. The only difference between you and the version of you that you dream about? Action. Average is safe, but it’s boring. U NEED TO KNOW Being 'okay' is easy, but it’s unfulfilling. You weren’t put on this planet to blend in. You were born to stand out, to do something, to leave a mark. But first, you have to believe that. You have to take risks. You have to dare to be seen, to be heard, to be ALIVE.

N2 Get Obsessed with Yourself

This is the part where people get uncomfortable, but IDGASS . You need to fall in love with YOU. Not in a shallow, fake, selfie-obsessed way—but deeply, madly, passionately in love with the person you are becoming.Spend time with yourself. Take yourself out on dates. Sit in silence and listen to your thoughts. Who are you, really? What do you want? Not what society wants, not what your parents want, not what your friends think is cool—what do YOU want?Get crazy about discovering your passions. Throw yourself into books, art, music, whatever lights you up inside. Because the more you pour into yourself, the more unstoppable you become. You’re not just living life; you’re creating it. So why not make it something spectacular?

N3 Stop Waiting for Permission

Why are you waiting? Waiting for someone to tell you you’re good enough? Waiting for the 'right time'? BRO WTF Let me tell you something nobody is coming to give you permission. Nobody is going to hand you your dream life wrapped up in a bow. You have to go out there and TAKE IT.Stop looking for signs. Stop waiting for everything to feel perfect. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, and sometimes it’s downright terrifying—but that’s the beauty of it. The magic happens when you stop overthinking and just DO. Take the leap, even if you don’t feel ready. Life isn’t about being ready—it’s about showing up, again and again, until you create the life you can’t stop dreaming about AND THIS IS DISCIPLINE

N4 Reclaim Your Power

Let’s get one thing straight: you are powerful. Not in a vague, 'manifestation vibes' kind of way, but in a real, tangible way. Every decision you make is a choice. Every habit you keep is a vote for the kind of person you want to be.But here’s the catch—every time you let someone else control your narrative, you give away a piece of that power. Every time you shrink yourself to fit someone else’s expectations, you lose a little more. Stop giving it away. Own your voice. Own your choices. Own your life.You are the architect of your story. So start building something worth remembering. And if people don’t like it? If they don’t 'get' you? Let them go. Your life is not a democracy it’s YOUR kingdom. Rule it unapologetically.

N5 Romanticize the Hell Out of Everything

Here’s the secret nobody tells you: life is as magical as you decide to make it. Stop waiting for the big moments—graduation, the 'dream job'...—to feel alive. Start finding beauty in the small, ordinary, quiet things.Make your morning coffee an event. Cook ur dinner by urself. Write love letters to urself. Turn sunsets into poetry. Life is happening right now, and if you keep rushing to the 'next thing,' you’re going to miss it.Romanticizing your life isn’t about pretending everything is perfect. It’s about choosing to see the magic, even in the mess. Because when you do that, life stops feeling like something you’re just surviving—and starts feeling like something worth celebrating.

This is Your one life. Your one shot. So stop living like you have forever. Stop waiting, stop hiding, stop playing small. You are the main character of this story, and it’s time to act like it. Get crazy about your life. Get obsessed. Because when you do, everything changes.Now go out there and make something beautiful I'm proud of u 143

@bloomzone 📇

[hxney-lemcn]

First Kiss — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: your first kiss with your lover.

tw: none.

a/n: teehee. Its hard for me to pick what character I wanna daydream about. Also, can you tell who my fav is? *cough* Vil *cough*

wc: 2.1k (~250 each character)

Master List | Vicehousewardens | The Others

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

The warm sun gently warmed you both. A refreshing breeze softly caressed you, Riddle’s red hair swaying gently as he took a sip of his tea. You felt more than content as Riddle’s gray-blue eyes watched you intently as you rambled about whatever carried your fancy. It was a side of Riddle that few others saw, and you were grateful that he allowed you to, that he was willing to listen to whatever nonsense you spouted. The warmth in your heart burst as he nodded, giving his two cents about the book you spoke of. By the sevens did you want to just give him a little peck. You two were dating, so there was no harm in asking…right? Although the two of you had been dating for a bit, the question had caused him to fluster greatly. Cheeks a bright red, mouth gaping, chest heaving. You should’ve expected such a reaction, it took quite a bit for him to hold your hand without shutting down. To your surprise, he gave you his consent. Leaning over, you couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable. Eyes closed expectantly, lips pursed, cheeks red. You closed the gap, leaving a chaste kiss against his lips before pulling away. When you pulled away he seemed to look both in awe and slight disappointment. 

“As my partner, you are allowed to show me your affection in such ways, I only ask you to keep it between us. Other’s do not need to witness such acts.”

❥ Leona Kingscholar

You were bored. Your phone could no longer hold your attention and you just wanted to do something different. Too bad you had a whole ass lion using you as his personal body pillow. You stared at the familiar ceiling of his room, contemplating on a possible way to sneak out. You loved Leona, really, you did…but your limbs were sore and you felt antsy. So, what better than poking the bear, err…lion. You found yourself brushing his hair with your hands, scratching his scalp every so often. When that no longer kept you entertained, you lightly scratched at the base of his ears. His ear twitched, but you continued with your ministrations, a smirk pulling at your lips as a deep rumble was pulled out of him. You only paused when one of his eyes glared at you. When you mentioned you were merely bored and your legs felt like needles were constantly pricking them he only rolled his eyes. Quicker than you could comprehend, he pinned you down below him with a slight huff. His green eyes stared at you for a few moments, as if he was seeking permission, and when you didn’t push him away or fight him, he leaned down, connecting your lips in a harsh kiss. He didn’t stop until you were breathless, a smug smirk filling his features.

“Is this what you wanted, herbivore? If you want to ruin my sleep then you’ll have to compensate me.”

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

You felt like you were going crazy. Azul would take you out on fancy dates, offering you discounts (is it really a discount if you were basically eating for free?) at the Mostro Lounge, and shower you in light forms of affection (kissing the back of your hand, guiding you with a hand on your back, gentlemanly shit), yet you haven’t kissed him? Preposterous! It was proving to be a difficult task, as even though you both had been dating for a while, Azul would shy away at any form of affection you showered him with. The good news was that he had become more receptive to it, the key was you both had to be completely alone and it could only be small gestures. A small squeeze of his hand, brushing back a stray hair, hell even giving him a compliment no longer caused him to run away. Sadly, you started to feel greedy, his pink lips always seemed to taunt you, an open invitation to lean over and place your own over his. But you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, you understood how kissing could be a big deal. There was one night, the dim lights highlighting Azul’s beautiful face as he watched you expectantly. He had you taste a new dish that he wanted to add to his menu and it just so happened to be your favorite food. As thanks, you asked him to come closer, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He did so hesitatingly, and felt himself burn up when you placed a kiss on his cheek. Then he felt like he was going to pass out as you pouted stating that you ‘missed’. Against his better judgment, he gave into your pleading, enchanting eyes, leaning in closer as you silently asked for permission. When your lips met his, he thought he was ascending to heaven.

“A-ahem, I-I’m glad to see that the d-dish was to your l-liking. I-if there’s anything else I could provide, p-please do not be afraid to ask.”

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

It's a wonder you two haven’t kissed yet. You felt so spoiled with how much care and affection Kalim showered you with. He never failed to warm you heart whether it be from his hugs, his solutions if anything ever concerned you, or even just his smile. He was a beaming ray of sunshine, and it kind of intimidated you. Contrary to popular belief, you felt shy under Kalim’s love. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the way your heart skipped a beat as he kissed your cheek or refused to let you go. Oh and not to mention the spoiling. You knew you'd never stop the prince from lavishing you with golden jewelry and gems you didn’t even want to guess how much they were worth. Honestly, it wasn’t good for your poor heart…or consciousness. So when Kalim noticed your slightly downtrodden expression at the new ring he slipped on your finger he worried. Was it not to your liking? Was the color wrong? Don’t worry! He’ll find you ten more rings that you’ll love! …why did you look even more scared at that suggestion? You deserved all this and more! Poor Kalim, he doesn’t know a world without it being at his fingertips, he can’t understand your concern. Your heart hurt at his frown, his sad eyes reminded you of a poor puppy that was kicked. With a sigh you relented, it did compliment you nicely. And so, hoping to right the wrong of making Kalim feel sad, you leaned over and gently pecked his lips. It was like nothing had occurred at all as he stared with sparkles in his eyes.

“Could we do that again? How about another? Just one more, pleeeeease~ Haha! I’m sorry, I just love you so much!”

❥ Vil Schoenheit

It wasn’t fair how pretty and charming your boyfriend was. You wouldn’t tell him this, but he could run you over and blame you for being in the way and you’d apologize. Yeah, you were a major simp, but you really tried to be normal about it. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you managed to bag him, something about how your stupidity was frustratingly charming…in which you showed him your B in potions but he simply rolled his eyes. Aparatenly that proved his point somehow. Anyways! It was one of those rare moments of peace, the two of you watching a movie that Vil had deemed a classic. As much as you tried to pay attention (you know how annoying it is when someone scrolls on their phone during a movie you love), you kept glancing at Vil to see his reactions. You weren’t being sneaky by any means, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy you couldn’t take your eyes off of him or annoyed that you clearly missed the symbolism that was important to understanding the plot. Yet when you pointed out something even he missed…he was secretly proud. Perhaps you were a better multitasker than you seemed because he had watched that movie plenty of times and missed such a simple thing you pointed out on first view. His heart warmed as you pointed out more details that you liked, and others you didn’t completely understand, such a simple moment, yet one he would cherish. And now he was becoming the bad one, eyes straying to your lips while trying to listen to your rambling. He truly wanted your first kiss to be romantic, in a garden with fairy lights or over a fancy dinner, but perhaps this was just as, if not more so romantic. Gently lifting your head up, your words died on your tongue as Vil’s purple eyes stared at you so lovingly. As he inched his face closer to yours, he softly asked if he could kiss you, nearly sending your heart into cardiac arrest. As his soft lips met yours, you felt true bliss for the first time, and as he pulled away with a self assured smirk, cheeks a light pink, you questioned how you managed to achieve a dream like scenario. 

“It seems like you’re becoming a bad influence, dear. You want another? Perhaps I can oblige if you can actually focus on the next movie.” 

❥ Idia Shroud

Where do I begin? You had been with Idia for nearly a year. You both were on the shy side, getting used to such intimate touches slowly. You can successfully say that you can now hug Idia without him freaking out. In fact, he seemed to seek out your affection, albeit in a backwards way. He’d act like he hated any form of affection and then proceed to stare daggers at you like he was trying to telepathically ask you to play with his hair. True cat behavior. You showed him the joy of affection and now you had to pay the crime (you did so happily). Idia was laying on your chest playing on his handheld console, you were mindlessly playing with his hair and your eyes kept drifting from your phone to your boyfriend. He was so pretty, you never understood how he thought otherwise. From his fiery blue hair, his yellow determined eyes, to his blue tinted lips. He may be a loser otaku, but that just happened to be your type. Your hand trailed from his bright hair to his pale face, gently caressing his cheeks. He looked over at you, his cheeks turning a light pink, no matter how much love you showered him with he would never get used to the way you made his heart want to rip itself out of his chest. And…oh sevens, were you staring at his lips? Just what was going on in that mind of yours? Did…did you just ask to kiss him?! Hair burning pink and hiding his face in your neck, he felt like his brain was melting. He’s dreamt of kissing you, how soft your lips may be, the flavor of your chapstick…but actually doing it?! Was your intimacy meter high enough? His charm stats are rock bottom, would he even kiss you right? Wait! H-he didn’t say no! Please kiss him… Oh, that’s a lot better than when he practiced kissing his body pillow. Great, you’ve got him hooked all over again.

“C-could we do that…again…I-I n-need to grind to get my charm s-stats up.”

❥ Malleus Draconia

For Vil you were the simp, well now the turns have tabled. Malleus is straight up courting you, letting you progress the relationship as you’d like. You’re only comfortable with holding hands? That’s alright, he is more than happy to oblige your requests. You enjoy being hugged? Be prepared for dragon hugs, you can’t escape. He would never push you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Honestly, he was expecting your first kiss to be at the altar of your wedding…yeah he’s a bit of a traditionalist. So don’t expect him to make the first move, he’s content with any and all affection you're willing to give. And poor you, you constantly found yourself with cute aggression when you’re with your boyfriend. He was just so cute! You wanted to squish his cheeks and squeeze him as tightly as possible (he wouldn’t mind, it's not like you could hurt him). You found yourself once again with a wave of cute aggression as Malleus pouted at the phone he currently held. You were teaching him how to use it and it was a bit harder than you realized. I mean even your mom got the concepts quicker than him…but you suppose your mom wasn’t a century year old fae. The feeling became so strong you couldn’t stop yourself from smushing his cheeks, causing his bright green eyes to stare at you in surprise that quickly turned into fondness. Letting your instincts fully take over, you brought his face closer, pressing your lips together. You had tried to pull away, but Malleus followed you, taking over and kissing you possessively. He wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

“I apologize, child of man. I can’t seem to hold myself back when it comes to you.”

[leona-hawthorne]

circus!freak mattheo seeing reader sword swallowing

and like... blowjob after??? you see the vison???

⊹ ࣪ ˖ giving circus freak!mattheo a blowjob after a performance

warnings ; 18+ mdni, fem reader, oral m!recieving, throatfucking, praise

₊⊹ navigation ; circus freak!mattheo ; au’s ; m.list

the moment you stepped off the stage, wiping the back of your hand across your lips, you knew.  

mattheo’s eyes had been on you the entire time—watching, waiting. the second your routine ended, he was already moving, cutting through the backstage chaos like a blade through silk.  

“you’ve got a filthy little talent, don’t you?” his voice was a low murmur against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “swallowing swords like that.”  

you didn’t need to look at him to know the expression he wore—that slow, wolfish grin, dark eyes glinting with something wicked.  

“whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” you tossed him a glance, feigning exasperation, but the heat pooling between your thighs betrayed you.  

mattheo only chuckled, his fingers ghosting over your wrist before curling around it. his grip was firm, not enough to drag you, but enough to make sure you followed when he pulled you past the velvet curtains, deeper into the shadows of the empty tent.  

“you already know what i’m thinking,” he said, backing you against one of the towering support beams, the scent of fire oil and sweat clinging to his skin.  

his hand tipped your chin up, thumb pressing against your bottom lip.  

“so show me,” he murmured.  

next thing you knew, your knees were aching against the cold wooden floor, but you barely noticed. all you could focus on was mattheo’s cock—thick and heavy on your tongue, pulsing against your lips as he guided himself deeper, fingers wrapped tight in your hair.  

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his head dropping back against the post. his grip tightened, a silent command. “look at you. my good little freak, taking me so well.”  

you whimpered at the praise, at the way his voice dropped lower, rougher.  

his other hand slid down to your throat, fingers curling around the sides—not squeezing, just holding, just feeling how his cock stretched you from the inside.  

“feel that?” he murmured, pressing down just enough to make your head swim. “feel how deep you’re taking me?”  

you tried to nod, but the movement only made him groan, his hips twitching forward.  

“you can take more.”  

he didn’t wait for permission.  

his grip in your hair turned ruthless, guiding your head until your nose brushed against the sharp line of his hips. your throat protested, spasming around him, but he only groaned, his grip on your neck tightening slightly.  

“there we fucking go,” he growled. “that’s my girl.”  

tears pricked your eyes as he held you there, cock buried to the hilt, waiting until your throat relaxed around him before he pulled back.  

he didn’t let you breathe for long.  

his thrusts were slow at first, teasing, his grip forcing you to take it how he wanted. the control made your skin burn, your thighs pressing together as wetness pooled between them.  

“knew you’d be good at this,” he murmured, his fingers slipping down to drag over your cheek, smearing spit and precum across your flushed skin. “so fucking eager to please.”  

you moaned around him, making his cock throb.  

“fuck,” he groaned. “bet you’re soaking yourself right now. bet i could shove my hand between those pretty thighs and find you dripping.”  

you clenched at his words, heat flooding your stomach.  

“messy little thing,” he murmured, watching spit drip down your chin. “gonna have to clean you up when we’re done.”  

his hips snapped forward sharply, pushing himself back down your throat, making you gag.

mattheo groaned at the sound, his fingers tightening in your hair.  

“fuck—that’s it. choke on it, love. show me how well you can take it.”  

trust.  

that’s what he always talked about. what he demanded.  

and right now, with his hand tight in your hair, his cock stretching your throat, your body entirely at his mercy—you trusted him.  

you couldn’t breathe. could only let him use you how he pleased, his cock sliding deep, over and over, until your vision blurred. and it felt good.

his groans grew rougher, his grip almost painful, his pace turning brutal.  

“shit—gonna come,” he warned, voice strained.  

you hummed in response, making his hips stutter.

warmth flooded your throat as he spilled into your mouth, his hips shuddering, his curses breaking into breathless laughter as he watched you swallow every drop.  

his hand slid up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek as he watched you swallow.  

when he finally pulled back, you gasped for air, your lips slick, eyes glassy.  

mattheo crouched down to your level, his fingers tilting your chin up while his other wrist rested on his knee.

“open,” he murmured.  

you obeyed, sticking out your tongue just enough to show him you’d taken everything.  

his smirk was filthy.

“good fucking girl.”

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.

word count. 1.7k

note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.

it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.

sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.

you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.

your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.

sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.

the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.

the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.

a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.

“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.

not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”

you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.

that same smile completely disappears over time.

“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.

sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.

it’s getting tiresome.

“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.

before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.

your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;

“do you love me?”

there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.

sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.

a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.

a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.

you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.

you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.

“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.

you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.

what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.

but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.

the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.

especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.

sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.

“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”

sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.

your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.

“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.

he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.

sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.

“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”

you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.

the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;

that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.

“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.

you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.

[theskywithin]

Birth Chart Breakdown: Lilith in The Signs

They call her the outcast, the untamed, the one who refused to bow. But Lilith was never meant to be a shadow, she was a mirror. To understand Lilith in your sign is to meet the part of you that was silenced. The part that society, family, or even you yourself tried to mold into something softer, smaller, more acceptable. But Lilith does not apologize. She does not shrink. She does not beg to be understood. This is where you have been denied, where you have been feared, where you have learned to reclaim yourself.

Lilith in Aries

They tried to quiet your fire, to tell you that desire must be tamed, that longing is dangerous. They mistook your passion for recklessness, your hunger for destruction. And so you fought, against them, against yourself, trying to prove that your existence was justified. But Lilith in Aries does not ask for permission to burn. She ignites. She consumes. She creates. You were never meant to be anything but unstoppable. Let the world adjust.

Lilith in Taurus

You were taught that desire was indulgence, that pleasure was a sin, that to want too much was to deserve nothing at all. And so you shrank, you swallowed your needs, you convinced yourself that survival was enough. But Lilith in Taurus remembers what it means to revel in being alive. To taste, to touch, to sink deeply into existence. You were not made to wither in hunger. You are meant to devour life.

Lilith in Gemini

They feared your words, your thoughts, your questions that unraveled the stories they wanted you to believe. So they drowned you in noise, mocked your curiosity, told you to speak less and listen more. But Lilith in Gemini was never meant to be silent. She is the echo that will not fade, the voice that bends reality, the mind that refuses to be caged. Do not shrink your words to fit their ears. Let them struggle to keep up.

Lilith in Cancer

They taught you that love meant sacrifice. That to be needed was to be valuable. That to pour yourself out for others was your highest purpose. But Lilith in Cancer remembers the times she was left empty, giving until there was nothing left. Reclaiming her means learning that your needs matter, that your softness is not weakness, and that you deserve to receive as much as you give.

Lilith in Leo

They warned you not to shine too brightly, not to take up too much space. They called confidence arrogance, joy a distraction, self-love a sin. And so you learned to dim your light, to wait for permission to be extraordinary. But Lilith in Leo does not shrink. She is the wildfire that cannot be contained, the golden dawn that refuses the night. You were never meant to be a shadow. Take center stage and let the world burn with your brilliance.

Lilith in Virgo

They made you believe that flawlessness was love, that if you just did everything right, you would be safe. So you polished, corrected, perfected, until you were hollow, a version of yourself they could approve of. But Lilith in Virgo knows that perfection is a cage, that the raw, unfiltered self is where true power lives. You were not born to be flawless. You were born to be real.

Lilith in Libra

They told you that harmony was more important than truth, that being chosen was more important than being yourself. And so you learned to be agreeable, to be pleasing, to shape-shift into whatever made them stay. But Lilith in Libra is not here to be adored, she is here to be free. You do not need their approval. Love yourself enough to stop apologizing for who you are.

Lilith in Scorpio

They told you that your intensity was dangerous, that your depth was too much, that power was something to be ashamed of. And so you buried yourself in shadows, hiding the parts of you that made others tremble. But Lilith in Scorpio does not apologize for being whole. She is destruction and creation, rage and ecstasy, death and rebirth. You were not made to be digestible. Let them choke.

Lilith in Sagittarius

They tried to tame your spirit, to chain your mind, to tell you that wild hearts are reckless. They gave you rules, fences, reasons why freedom was an illusion. But Lilith in Sagittarius laughs in the face of control. She is the untamed road, the question that breaks the world open, the fire that never stops moving. Run. Run until your soul feels limitless again.

Lilith in Capricorn

They told you to earn your worth, to prove yourself again and again, to wait your turn. They made you climb, made you struggle, made you believe that power had to be granted. But Lilith in Capricorn does not kneel. She builds empires with her bare hands. You do not need their permission. Take up space like you were born to rule.

Lilith in Aquarius

They wanted you to conform. To play along. To be what was expected. But Lilith in Aquarius was never meant to be ordinary. She is the storm that rewrites history, the voice that shatters illusions, the mind that refuses to be owned. They will never understand you. Be revolutionary anyway.

Lilith in Pisces

They told you to wake up, to be realistic, to stop feeling so much. They tried to erase your dreams, your softness, your magic. But Lilith in Pisces is the siren song that will not fade, the dream that refuses to die. You were not made for a world without wonder. Keep believing. Keep feeling. Keep dreaming.

🌌 There’s a map inside you. 📖 Learn how to read it, one chapter at a time.

[demonpiratehuntress]

brother's keeper

Portgas D Ace x F!Reader

summary - you meet Luffy's brother in Alabasta, the very pirate that you may just have the biggest crush on. he spends the entire journey hogging your attention, both purposely and unintentionally. part 2 here.

warnings - none

a/n - i cannot plan a fic to save my life...whatever comes from my head is usually different to what i plan...for instance, i did not plan this to be a two part fic, but it just might be...

While you were not surprised that Luffy had failed to mention his brother, you were definitely surprised by who said brother was. A man that you had, and you'd take this secret to your grave, fantasised about on more than one occasion.

Because how was your carefree, slightly insane captain who got by on sheer luck related to such a powerful, intimidating pirate??

You could not meet his gaze.

Ace had made friends with most of the group already - he was surprisingly friendly, which you hadn't expected from someone even Marines feared. But you were too flustered to make eye contact, let alone utter a single word to him.

And this didn't go unnoticed by the Whitebeard Pirates commander.

Maybe it was the fact that he was shirtless. Maybe it was the fact that he had a huge bounty on his head. Or maybe it was just the fact that you wondered if his kiss would be as fiery as his devil fruit power.

"What's wrong, (Name)?" Nami asked you, pulling you away from the boys. She had this knowing smirk on her face that made your face flush.

"Nothing!" Your voice came out an octave higher than you planned. "Why would you think there's something wrong?"

"Okay, then go talk to Ace-"

"No!" You interrupted her, eyes wide with panic. "I can't do that!"

Nami let out an unnecessarily loud laugh, "I can't believe it. Is this really the girl who keeps yelling at the boys on our crew and calling them stupid?"

"Actually, that's you. But this is different!" You protested, covering your face.

Unbeknownst to you, the commander had actually heard the entire conversation. At first, he was a little offended, but as he heard more his lips curled into an amused smirk.

That is, until he saw the death glare your crew's cook was giving him.

A few minutes later, you were washing some of the dishes from lunch - Sanji was occupied with chasing Luffy around the ship because of how he'd been washing them. You were lost in your thoughts, thinking about what to say to Ace if you could gather up enough courage to talk to him, and didn't hear someone come in behind you.

"Need any help?" Ace's voice filled your ears, amusement barely hidden in his tone.

You tensed, your eyes wide. For a moment, you panicked and didn't know how to respond, making him chuckle behind you. He came all the way and leaned on the counter beside you, his eyes scanning your distressed face.

"Have I offended you?" He asked softly, knowing the answer but curious to see what you'd tell him.

"No, not at all," you managed to answer, stopping yourself from speaking any further in fear of making yourself look like an idiot. The last thing you wanted was for him to hear you stutter and stammer like a child learning their first words.

"So is there another reason that you've been avoiding me?" He teased. "I've spoken to everyone on your crew, except for you."

"You're speaking to me now," you offered meekly.

He laughed, the sound washing over you and loosening all your tense muscles, "I suppose I am."

You hesitated for a moment, then lowered your voice, "I didn't expect Luffy to have such a-"

"Charming brother?" He finished, his eyes glinting with the same mischievous light that Luffy's often did. "I got that a lot today."

You laughed at his words, and his lips quirked up into a smile at the sound. He took this as permission to move closer, satiating his puzzling need to be closer to you. He was, for some reason, drawn to the girl on his brother's crew that seemed to be doing everything to avoid him.

"I suppose you could say that," you smiled.

Ace opened his mouth to say something else, when Luffy and Sanji burst in through the door. The blonde had his foot raised to kick the captain, when he saw you and Ace standing there, closer than he'd have liked.

You didn't get much time to speak to Ace after that, which was both a relief and disappointment to you. Vivi guided Nami to dock in a hidden spot when you reached Erumalu, before the crew was unwittingly the target of creatures that looked like a cross between a turtle and a seal.

"Luffy, don't-!" Vivi tried to warn your captain, but it was too late.

You face-palmed, Ace huffing out a laugh next to you. Though you weren't sure if that was because of your reaction or his brother's antics.

The walk through the desert was not a pleasant one, but you managed. Again, you subconsciously avoided walking beside Ace, and he was amused by this. To tease you, he intentionally kept moving to walk with you, holding back laughter each time you tensed or blushed even slightly.

It was cute.

"So how did you meet my brother?" Ace asked you, standing so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. You tensed a little at the memory, and he quickly apologised, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No it's okay," you shook your head, "I'm past it. I was actually unwillingly working for Kuro at the time, who was disguised as a butler for Usopp's, uh, friend. Luffy was...actively recruiting," you laughed, "so when he beat Kuro, I joined his crew."

"He must be convincing if he managed to recruit a former pirate hunter," Ace's eyes drifted to the green-haired swordsman.

You hummed in agreement, "Once you see some of the strongest pirates fall by Luffy's hand, you figure you'd rather be on the side of the crazy, unhinged rubber boy than against him."

Ace chuckled at your description, and as you walked he told you stories of Luffy from their childhood. Most of which did not really surprise you.

"Thanks for putting up with him," he finished, smiling warmly at you. "I know he can be a handful."

"Maybe," you looked at Luffy, who was fighting with Usopp over water. "But he's fiercely protective of his friends. And probably the most persistent, loyal person I've ever met. He's a good captain, even if it's not in the traditional sense."

Ace smiled at that, and the two of you parted to help set up camp for the night when the group stopped to rest.

Later that night, however you couldn't sleep. It was icy cold outside, and even being inside the tent didn't do anything to keep you warm. Shivering, you hugged yourself and exited your tent, only to see Ace sitting just outside it.

"Can't sleep?" He looked up at you, his eyes sympathetic.

"Nope," you sat down beside him - something you never thought you'd do until he had made you feel more at ease around him. "It's so cold."

Ace watched you for a moment, silently debating, before opening his arms.

You saw this, and your eyes widened, "What-"

"Hug me," he grinned. "You look like you could use it."

A fierce blush crossed your cheeks, butterflies blooming in your stomach, "I-"

"Oh come on," he chuckled, "Don't get shy on me again. Come here." His hand gently wrapped around your forearm, and he pulled you closer to him, sliding his arm around you.

Your face burned, but you slowly leaned against him, getting more comfortable - and more confident, by his gentle encouragement to relax on him and let him warm you up.

Eventually, you drifted off to sleep, but you don't remember when.

You jerked awake to shouts and cries the next morning, looking around to find the source of the commotion - which was just Vivi telling Luffy not to eat a scorpion. You sighed, sitting up, only to be stopped by Ace's arms. You turned to look at the commander, who was laughing at his brother, and your cheeks heated up again.

"Oh, you're awake!" Ace grinned, turning to look at you. His warm eyes gleamed with affection, making you blush more.

"Morning," you greeted, "And yes, that's how we wake up most mornings. Someone always shouting at your brother."

Ace laughed, finally loosening his grip on you but not letting go completely. His touch was electrifying, and most of you didn't want him to let go. But a small part of you knew that he had to at some point.

The group continued trekking across the desert, but by now you were much more comfortable walking with Ace. The two of you lingered at the back, behind the rest of the bickering Straw Hat crew, fingers just barely brushing against each other's with how close you were.

You couldn't help it, especially because your attraction to Ace had been there before you'd even met him, and found yourself falling for the charming raven-haired commander.

Though you knew that there was no way he could possibly feel that way about you, so you kept that to yourself.

He was so easy to be around, that you'd forgotten about your initial nervousness. Talking to him, being around him, felt as natural as breathing. He was just that kind of person, you realised, and suddenly you were upset you wasted so much time being too nervous to talk to him.

The crew was forced to stop once again when Luffy had practically handed all your things to a bunch of avian bandits, then proceeded to chase after them across the desert.

Ace settled on a nearby rock, watching in amusement as Zoro, Usopp and Sanji complained about your captain's antics. He apologised for his brother's behaviour, before his eyes travelled to where you stood with the other girls. He stared at you for a moment, his own feelings for you stirring.

Would it be wrong to ask out one of his brother's crewmates?