#i'll simply pass away now
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callsthefaithful · 9 months ago
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for a dtiys on twt :)
i live 4 dtiys's i like to grab every one i see w my grubby little mitts
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fatedroses · 5 months ago
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Chance encounters in Costa del Sol.
#ffxiv#sketch#zenos yae galvus#meteor survivor#titus yae galvus#arrecina wir galvus#oc#tsukiko date#camilla lunae#imagine trying to get drinks at the bar only to look over and see your presumed dead great uncle/great nephew standing right next to you#meteor- five seconds away from a heart attack looking over at titus#that moment when youre the spitting image of your father and the warrior of light was *not* aware of that fact#the galvus' are not allowed to have normal vacations#or... well retirement in Titus' case#I am simply here to draw the unaccounted for garlean royals lmao#eventually i'll draw zenos' half sibling(s?) and varis' retainers annia and julia out of their armor#but for now you guys just get to see my silly bullshit of sixty something y/o titus deciding that with nerva gone he's just gonna retire#mans is done with it#im probably gonna end up writing him as the legatus of the 8th- and probably a machinist that eventually becomes a gunbreaker#after lucius passes this man is over all of it#no nonsense machine commanding leader ect ect.#probably dual wielding the gunblade with an actual gun tbh lol#old man doesnt look like wrinkly solus because he spent his life taking care of himself to deal with just... the galvus family in general#dont let the strands deceive you all his grey hair is hidden under the rest of it all lmao#the galvus family brain rot continues and its not going to let me go v-v#(also dont mind meteor teasing tsu for hiding in his shade she does this a lot)
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xwildheart · 2 years ago
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isla can tell he's trying, but can also see that miguel is nervous. of course he was. he was sleeping with his best friends sister behind his back. not really the best place any guy wants to be. even more so on the cusp of spilling that little detail.
isla nodded. pulling herself together as best as she could and standing. she didn't live far from her brother. made a point to be close enough for the boys sake. it wasn't uncommon for her to show up unannounced either. 'leo?' she called out into the home once they arrived and she let herself in, glancing over her shoulder towards miguel. she nearly reached for his hand, wanted something to hold onto but held back for now. 'leo, you awake?' she called out again, and not a few moments later did she hear her brothers footsteps on the stairs heading their way, having asked abby to quick go check on the boys before coming downstairs as well.
'isa?' he called back, the sweet shortening of her name, rounding the corner and with a confused glance, took in the fact that she and miguel were there. he'd somehow composed himself after his little bout of crying as well. abby making him feel a better about his doubts of being a good father. 'are you alright? i thought you had plans tonight?' that's why he needed abby. instantly he's closer, noticing the red eyes, tell tale sign that she'd been crying and he can help the look he cuts towards his best friend almost instantly. 'miguel?' he questioned.
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miguel knew if he suggested waiting until tomorrow, that isla wouldn't get any sleep. once her mind was set on something, that was it. the woman wouldn't get any rest, tossing and turning no doubt, worrying about what her brother might say or do.
he squeezes her hand. presses another kiss to the top of her head. the man's gentle. always gentle when it came to isla. she saw a softer side of him that no one else got to see, besides maybe leo's kids - because even with leo, he was bit of a sarcastic asshole. that was just the relationship the two shared and probably always would.
" no, of course not. best to rip off the bandaid, right? " offers her a smile, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes. for the first time in his life, he's nervous. every time he goes to work, he faces danger. stares into the eyes of it. takes the risk of the wolves attacking. but telling leo? whole other ballgame. whole other sport. scarier than the wolves. there was a reason why he had suggested keeping it to themselves in the first place.
miguel picks up his phone. taps away on it, looking up his best friend's location. home. he's home. shows isla, nodding his head. " let's do this thing then, yeah? "
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timothyslucy · 9 months ago
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tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme.... 🥹💗
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steampoweredskeleton · 27 days ago
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Just got a light bollocking for not doing something that someONE ELSE WAS ASKED TO DO BC I WAS AWAY AT THE TIME
I AGREE IVE BEEN MISSING THINGS BUT THAT ONE ISNT IT? THAT JUST. WASNT RUN? BC I WASNT THERE AND SO EVERYONE JUST DECIDED NOT TO DO ANY OF IT??!
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softbabybelle · 2 months ago
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CORRUPTION𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron 003.
rafe cameron x shy!reader
 𝜗𝜚 summary : rafe has been trying to get you alone for far too long and now that he finally has, he won't give the moment up for anything.
𝜗𝜚 words : 2.3k
𝜗𝜚 c!w : smut, humping, thigh riding, public!sex, finger sucking, risk of being caught, praise kink, kinda degradation kink.
part 1, part 2.
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days had passed since the incident with rafe cameron and the boy who's name you didn't wish to remember.
this time, you hadn't gone out of your way to avoid the boy but instead went back to normal, almost as if nothing had happened between you two at all. you sat on the couch of tannyhill, giggling at something on sarah's phone with your legs crossed.
now, that simply wouldn't do.
rafe had been eager for a minute alone with you which seemed almost impossible when his sister was hanging off your side every minute you spent at tannyhill.
he was sitting on the living room couch, the one across from you both, scrolling on his own phone, a finger to his mouth as he gnawed at the completely bitten down nail.
his eyes kept travelling over to you, skimpy little summers dress clinging to your form while the skirt part began to ride up your thighs as you moved against the couch.
dirty thoughts swarmed his head, thoughts that shouldn't be repeated out loud. thoughts that shouldn't have been in his head to begin with.
he thought he was sure to be damned to hell for the things he was thinking.
and then, ironically enough, the gods seemed to smile down on him. it was as if all of his prayers had been answered and every beg and grovel had finally been listened to by an angel.
the angel who's name was wheezie, standing in the living room door frame. "sarah." wheezies hair was a mess, thrown into a bun with loose strands of hair sticking out every which way, she looked tired, so awfully tired and dreadful as she stared forward at her sister who's head instantly snapped up. "please help me. i'm trying clean out my wardrobe but it's too much."
a laugh fell from sarah's mouth. "no way. it's your mess, clean it yourself."
but that was when wheezie's arms crossed over her chest, cocking a brow. "I'm sorry, who covered for you and topper last night?"
"wheezie!" sarah exasperated, glancing out into the hallway. ward and rose were upstairs but sarah still didn't wish for them to hear about the late night activities she'd been getting up to with her boyfriend.
defeated, she turned her head back to you, who was sitting so sweetly on the couch, that same sickly sweet smile crawling up on your features. you liked watching the cameron siblings interact, even if it wasn't always so pleasant, there was something oddly homely about it. "'s okay, sarah, 'm fine down here."
"okay." she sighed, getting up from the couch. "okay, you just―just hang out for a while and i'll be down soon, okay?" she watched you nod. "okay, come on, let's get this over with."
and suddenly, tension ran thick through the air.
it was you and rafe, alone.
his legs were spread apart on the armchair he was seated on, eyes running up and down your body. you seemed to notice your dress riding up and instantly tugged it down with pink cheeks. you swallowed thickly. "I, uhm―i wanted to say thank you." your eyes finally looked up to reach his.
the minute he heard your voice, his phone was turned off and tossed away. his head cocked to the side. "what for?" teasing. for he knew exactly what for.
you squirmed in your place. "for everything you did with max."
"didn't seem too grateful when you ran away, hm?" he didn't mean the bitter words that slipped from his lips. he watched the way you hung your head low, eyes glassing over. instantly, a kind of guilt washed over him and he leaned back further into the chair. "c'mere." and he patted his thigh, watching your eyes flicker down. you glanced out to the hallway and he had to roll his eyes. "'s okay, nobody'll see you. they're all too busy."
you did as you were told, crossing the room and landing in his lap.
there was something so sensational about being in his lap again.
memories flooded your head, pictures and images of you and he, in this same predicament inside his bedroom, his lips tainting yours. you couldn't help but latch your eyes onto his lips.
"you wanna tell me why you keep runnin' away, hm?" you don't answer, eyes searching anywhere but his face. he doesn't allow it, turning you slowly towards him once again. "asked you a question, sweetheart."
you fought words inside your mouth, all threatening to come tumbling out. "was scared." is all he's met with.
"scared of what?" his head dips, his eyes trying to reach yours, trying to look in and gauge your emotions. "scared of me?"
you shook your head, fingers reaching out to trail across the fabric of his sweater. "i... liked it when you kissed me." you admitted and he watched as a blush fell across your face, red reaching the tips of your ears. "i liked it a lot but 'was scared that sarah would find out 'n i don't―"
"sarah doesn't need to know anything." he answers quickly. "besides, who you kiss..." his fingers trailed across your bottom lip, sucking in his own bottom one between his teeth as he gazed down at them, sweet like honey. "is none of her business, yeah?"
you nodded too quickly, too eagerly, too convinced by his words too quickly. "'m sorry, rafe, 'm really sorry."
"think i know how you can make it up t'me." his fingers left your lips and placed themselves against your hips. "you wanna make it up to me?"
"yes, please." came out too swiftly.
he couldn't help but smirk at your eagerness. "'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" and suddenly, you could feel heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. he leaned in, his breaths falling hot against your face, his scent filling your senses. and just as his lips brushed against your own, he whispered. "you gotta promise me something first, 'kay?"
you licked your wet lips. "anything." wanting nothing more than for rafe to lean in and seal the kiss. you'd do anything he ever asked.
"no runnin' away this time." his fingers pinched at your jaw, holding it so your eyes could reach his. "you want this? you take it 'n you don't go pushin' me away again, alright?" a curt nod. "words, princess."
"promise." you spoke quickly. "promise, rafe, please."
his lips quirked.
but he didn't keep you waiting.
when his lips crashed into yours, you were very aware of the fact that you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, the living room door wide open. all it took was for ward or sarah to come down the stairs and they'd see what you'd been up to.
they'd see that you weren't such a good girl after all.
but you couldn't seem to care.
you were too focused on his hot hot lips, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss, hands pinching at your waist, holding you in place.
your mind began to unravel, all you could think about was him. rafe cameron. you were sitting on his lap, kissing him, again. and you swore it was a feeling unlike any feeling you'd ever felt in your entire life. it was making you so desperate, so messy, so wet.
and you were sure he could feel it too. he tugged on your waist, rolling your hips against him.
you let a whimper be swallowed by his mouth.
his lips finally broke from yours for air but he didn't allow himself enough to fully regain his breath before they were latched beneath your jaw, sucking and kissing harshly.
again, he rolled your hips. you weren't sure if it was him moving you or you doing it by yourself now. you could feel him growing hard beneath you, you could feel him pressing himself up against your clothed pussy and all you could think about was how much you needed everything off.
you needed to feel him, skin to skin.
it seemed so close yet stretched so far away.
his hands ran up the skin of your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up as he went. "r-rafe." you whimpered out, head turning to the door. "someone could see―"
"'s what you asked for, isn't it?" his hands were rough against you, tugging the dress upwards, not caring for the family who remained upstairs. "isn't it?"
you swallowed thickly. "yes." you stammered out. "b-but―"
"you still wanna make it up to me, don't you?" his brows knitted together in this false sense of sadness, as if you'd done something awful to the poor man. you'd felt suddenly guilty for even suggesting that you stop.
you felt yourself ease against him, your own brows pinching together. "'m sorry, rafe, swear 'm sorry. i'll do anything, jus' please don't be angry―"
"'m not angry." he assures you, fingers brushing up and down your thighs, inching too high. "jus' need you to do something f'me, can you do that, sweetheart?" you were nodding like a puppy, eager to do anything he would ask of you. he maneuvered you so you were situated on one of his spread thighs and not his lap anymore. "y'gonna rub yourself on my thigh like the pathetic good girl you are, okay?"
you'd never done anything like this before.
suddenly you began to panic. "rafe, someone'll hear 'n―"
"nobody'll hear you, baby, jus' gotta be nice 'n quiet, yeah?" you still looked hesitant, top teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. "would make me feel so good, princess 'n you jus' wanna make me feel good, isn't that right? yeah, baby, jus' wanna make rafe feel good, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"
and you don't know how, why, or when but suddenly, you're doing just what he told you.
your hips are stuttering as they move against his jeans, you can feel your panties growing wetter and wetter with every jolt of movement.
rafe doesn't appear to be doing much, hands skillfully moving your hips while he leans back against the armchair.
"there you go, good girl." his cock twitched in his jeans, watching your hesitant, shy face as you moved oh so slowly on his jeans. "lift your hips f'me, sweetheart." you did as you were told, pausing to lift yourself up from his thigh. his hand moved beneath you, tugging your panties to the side and rubbing gentle circles against your clit.
"oh." fell so sweetly from your lips that to anybody else, it would have appeared almost innocent. but rafe was well aware of how dirty you really were.
he landed you back on his thigh, letting you rub yourself against him, this time, it was your bare pussy that ran up and down his jean-clad thigh.
he groaned at the sight of you, free hand coming down to fix his situation that was suddenly growing in his pants. he pulled at the jeans slightly, trying to make his growing bulge less noticeable but there was simply too much to hide.
your eyes cast down to his hand, then to the bulge and you found a little whimper leaving your mouth.
his eyes studied your face, watching you lick your already wet lips and rubbing yourself against him a little quicker. sweet, poor, innocent, you was so turned on by his growing dick. and he could feel it by the dampness of his jeans turning wet hot
you really were filthy.
a particularly loud whine left your lips and rafe realised that perhaps it wasn't a smart idea to start this whole thing off while his whole family was home.
but he couldn't stop now. that'd be cruel. especially seeing how worked up he'd gotten you.
he trailed his fingers up to your lips and tapped on your chin.
you didn't even need to be told, you simply opened up. he stuck his digits right in, feeling your flat tongue against them and spit coating them.
"so filthy, baby." he uttered so softly, as if he were complimenting you. "what'll we do with you, huh?" you only whimpered around his fingers. "'s okay, sweetheart, gonna get that pussy stuffed jus' like you want. just gotta be patient, yeah? can you do that f'me?"
and you're sloppy against his thigh, sloppy against his fingers. you can feel juices rubbing against his jeans and dribble forming at the gaps between your lips and all you can do is not so dumbly.
a stutter of your hips.
a grin on his lips.
"you gonna cum, already, huh?" it didn't take long, but you were already approaching your orgasm. he wished now more than ever that he could take pictures with his mind. that he could frame this moment and pull it out every time his dick got hard. he slipped his fingers out from your mouth. "gotta ask like a good girl before you cum."
your hands pawed at his shoulders. "please, rafe." your mind was turned to mush. "please, please, please."
he shrugged so cruelly. "'m hearin' a lot of beggin' but i don't hear you asking me yet."
"p-please, can i cum?" your face was red hot, embarrassment flooding your features quickly. "please?"
he smirked, leaning back against the armchair and removing his hands from your waist. you were a big girl, you could finish yourself off. "go on, princess."
he watched as your hands pawed at him, hips stuttering and eyes rolling backwards, mouth falling open. it was such a pronographic, filthy scene. and yet, he knew by tomorrow, you'd be prancing around in the same little dress and everyone would see you as the same lovely good little girl that you pretended to be.
and rafe thought that was enough to make him cum in his own pants.
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radiance1 · 10 months ago
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This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.
The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.
The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.
So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.
Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.
"Old man." The boy greeted.
"Brat." Constantine said.
"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"
"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.
The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"
Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."
"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"
"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."
"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."
The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.
Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.
"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.
"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."
Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."
"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."
"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.
Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.
He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.
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nanamis-angel · 6 months ago
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𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 ♡︎
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and megumi have been dating for nine months. you're happy. he's happy. you're perfect for each other. the only issue? he craves affection and he's not sure how to ask for it.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ megumi x fem!reader, shy megumi, fluff, very very slight angst, cuddling, yuji and nobara mention (they share one braincell).
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k
𝐚/𝐧 ৹ sorry I haven't written in a while, i'm currently on vacation and haven't been writing. this was in my drafts so I figured I'd post it. I'll be back soon with some more. I hope you enjoy! hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y
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You and Megumi had been dating for quite a while now. Just two weeks ago, you had your nine-month anniversary together and you were the happiest you had ever been.
The relationship was very low-key. PDA was almost non-existent—the most he’d ever do in public was hold your hand and even then, he kept his hands to himself most days.
Affection was present in your relationship but you mostly had to ask for it. He’d give it to you without a second thought but he rarely initiated any form of affection besides a few hugs or kisses here and there.
To be honest—it bothered you at first as you believed it was something about you that made him not want to be affectionate but then you realized it was just hard for him to show physical affection because he never really knew how. He was an amazing boyfriend—he just had some struggles.
You were fine with this now and it didn’t bother you, knowing that he still loved you very much.
But what you didn’t know was how badly this affected Megumi. His fear of initiating physical affection was eating him alive from the inside out.
Megumi had a lot of emotions—believe it or not—but he didn’t know how to handle all of it so he just shoved it all down where nobody could find it. He never learned how to deal with any of it so it seemed like the only quick solution.
His mother passed away at a young age and affection or even emotion (besides anger, disappointment, or his father being unamused) was not common from his father and stepmother. Growing up he got the occasional pat on the head or a hug from Gojo and his older sister Tsumiki tried her best to show her love for him when she could—but that had ended all too soon.
He would never admit it but he absolutely craved affection—specifically from you. The poor boy was so touch-starved. His heart soared whenever you asked for a hug or to lay down together. And it tore away at his heart how badly he wanted to ask you for love but for some reason, he was scared to do so.
But one thing about Megumi was that he was persistent and he was going to get through this and overcome his anxiety one way or another. After all, you were already his girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?
Right now, you were on a walk with him, Nobara, and Yuji. Shoko had insisted on the four of you going out and getting some sun and none of you were about to argue with the intimidating school doctor so you all quickly got out there.
You walked alongside Megumi while Nobara and Yuji goofed off a couple of feet ahead of the two of you, not paying attention to either of you at all. Megumi quietly walked with a stoic expression, keeping his hands in his pockets. He had barely said anything but that’s because his mind was racing.
You didn’t mind it at all as long as you were with him. Megumi’s gaze kept flickering down to your hand, which was at your side as you walked. He wanted to just reach down and grab your hand tightly but something stopped him. Why? He had no idea.
You were his girlfriend, he had held your hand before and nothing happened. So why would it be any different now? Anxiety over simple things never made anyone think sensible thoughts. But it was enough to make him nervous to simply reach out and grab your hand.
And the worst part? You had no idea. You simply kept walking with a big smile on your face as the two of you walked together.
Before he could stop himself, he just took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your hand rather abruptly, not saying a single thing as if trying to ignore what just happened.
You were a little stunned—just because it was so sudden. And he had just grabbed your hand rather than lacing his fingers together with yours or something like that so you looked at him with a little bit of confusion. “Megumi?” You asked.
Noticing your eyes on him, he just avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. All he was doing was holding your hand! Well, more like gripping it at this point.
“You don’t have to grip my hand like that, I’m not going anywhere.” You chuckled, trying to make him loosen up a bit so you could intertwine your fingers with his. Really, you were just glad that he was holding your hand and had done it himself.
Megumi didn’t reply but his grip loosened up so you could intertwine your fingers with his, properly holding hands now. You gave his hand a little squeeze and a reassuring smile. To be honest, it was really cute to see him like this but you weren’t going to say anything about it and just decided to leave it as it was.
Holding hands—it was such a simple thing but Megumi’s heart felt like it was racing. He was proud of himself for initiating things but boy was his heart pounding.
But feeling his skin against yours was so nice; feeling the warmth of your hand against his, it was so comforting. Goodness, he loved you so much. He just didn’t know how to say it sometimes.
The two of you held hands until you got back to the school. Nobara and Yuji rushed inside, not wanting to be out in the heat anymore while you and Megumi took your time getting inside. Sometimes you believed Nobara and Yuji shared one brain cell between each other—and they probably did, to be honest.
Megumi’s hand fell from yours when you got inside, which was okay, you were going to sit down to cool off anyway.
You made your way inside and to one of the rooms, walking over to one of the couches. Thankfully you had nothing else going on for the rest of the day so you could just practically pass out on the couch for a little while.
Before you sat down, you looked at Megumi, who was just standing there looking at you. “You okay, sweetheart?” You asked, slightly confused. He had been acting odd all day and it confused you. What was going on?
Again, no reply. Instead, you felt his hands suddenly grab your waist and pull you close to him, his arms enveloping you in a big hug. You stood there stunned for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It was clear that he really needed this hug.
“Megumi—,” You spoke but he cut you off.
“Don’t say anything.” He said softly, “Just don’t say anything.” He breathed out, not wanting to be asked any questions right now. All he wanted to do was hold you.
With you still in his arms, he moved and sat down on the couch, putting you on his lap and burying his face into the crook of your neck. It was so comforting, so nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever, in the safety and comfort of your arms.
You were still stunned that he was doing this but you didn’t question a thing, continuing to keep your arms locked tightly around him. Eventually, your hand made its way up to his scalp, gently raking your nails through his hair. You could feel him practically melt into your touch and you let out a little chuckle.
“Cute,” You mumbled, your voice could barely be heard.
Megumi let out a little huff and just kept his arms around you, his cheeks warm from embarrassment.
You weren’t sure how long you two were like that and eventually, you had somehow shifted to where the both of you were laying down, still holding each other in your arms. Megumi had practically fallen asleep, comfortably cuddled up right in your arms.
And he would’ve fallen asleep—had Yuji not walked into the room and seen the two of you lying together on the couch. Poor, innocent Yuji who could physically never bring himself to be quiet. “Ooh, Fushiguro! Getting comfortable with [name] there huh?” He said lightheartedly, thinking nothing of it. He really was just teasing.
Within an instant, Megumi was sitting up with an unamused expression, reaching to grab the nearest thing he could, his face pink and flushed “Shut up!”
Yuji was out of that room within seconds, just barely dodging the magazine Megumi had thrown at him.
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suiana · 26 days ago
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yandere peacock x humming bird darling? :3
dont know about the humming birdbut i can DEFINITELY do peaCOCK yandere
in a world of demihumans, male peacocks are known for their bright and vibrant feathers. it is said that these feathers are usef to scare predators away and to attract any potential mates. however, in a society where looks are becoming more of the main focus, male peacocks have started to just use their flamboyant feathers to appear, well, more flamboyant. especially that one, your neighbour.
he's a flamboyant man, that's for sure.
he moved in next door and you haven't really saw him much. that was, until, he heard your singing and went 'holy crap, you're a beautiful singer'. well actually, you don't know if he said that. but he only started showing interest in you after you caught him standing outside the door to your karaoke room.
conveniently enough, that was when he started showcasing his... army of feathers, passing by your door several times as other neighbours complained about him blocking up the whole damn hallway. you live in a tiny apartment complex after all. that meant tiny hallways and little to no space to walk if someone decided to spread his feathers and pace up and down a certain door.
you don't know what to do except tell him you're not interested repeatedly. because let's be honest, do you really think this guy is gonna leave even after you reject him? he's just going to come back for seconds and say that he's simply showing his feathers because they're beautiful! not because he wants to woo you...
that definitely didn't happen already. yup, definitely not.
"𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼..."
"good morning."
a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you lock your front door like you always do. lately though, you think that your door might be broken. it's always open whenever you return from your job. did you not lock it tightly enough? also for some reason there's always a hint of expensive floral fragance in the air. were you hallucinating? maybe a neighbour just bought some flowers?
well whatever, you'll just get a locksmith to see to your lock soon. maybe this weekend? as for the floral scent, it's no big deal. the scent is rather pleasant so you don't mind.
"heading to work, beautiful?"
you nod your head. yeah... another day of work at your boring job. you're really wasting your potential as a hummingbird demihuman. you could've been a famous singer by now!
orrrr... maybe not. you'd lose all your privacy if you became famous. no way in hell did you want that.
"be careful my pretty, i heard there's been a ton of accidents on the road these days. wouldn't want my neighbour to get hurt now, huh?"
oh how considera-
and there he was, flashing his damned feathers at you as a mysterious sparkle flashes around him. this... this stupid golden light that seemed to shine down on him, illuminating his godly sculpted features even more.
what a damn adonis.
no, he's more like narcissus. always admiring his beauty. you swear you've caught him staring at himself in a mirror store before while out shopping. that was one hell of a time.
you deadpan at him for a moment, just staring as he strikes pose after pose, body carefully twisted in such a way that would show off not only his feathers, but also his slender body. he's gorgeous, you have to admit that.
"have a good day neighbour."
"𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰- wait what? you're leaving already?"
your peacock neighbour deflates IMMEDIATELY, lips turning down into a pout as his feathers grow soft, falling down behind him. do his feathers act like a dick? you've always wondered that. they get hard and erect and soft sometimes. maybe you should ask him that someday.
"yeah, i have work dude. i'll be late if i stall any longer."
you waste not a single second before leaving him behind to pout childishly as a dark aura envelops him. you swear you even heard him mutter something about showing your boss who's in charge. what a weirdo. how would he even know who your boss is? dumbass.
what a weirdo your neighbour is, am i right fellas? definitely don't want him as your secret stalker, that's for sure! haha!
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bywons · 7 months ago
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𖥔ׅ YOU CAN BE THE BOSS — PSH
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𝖮𝖱 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍, 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾
𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⋆ 𝖼𝖾𝗈!𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝒾𝖭𝖢𝖫𝖴𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒?, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 1399 wc ( CATALOGUE。)
૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა ⠀PLS REBLOG !! 4 my princess @atrirose i locee u vv much TT
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“you were supposed to send me that report a week ago.”
here comes the insufferable perfectionist, with an annoying handsome face which makes it just impossible to hate him for too long. he pushes the glass so it settles still on the top of his nose bridge, eyebrows jotted together to hint a slight disappointment in you. you want to mock him, make faces and scream at him, “leave me alone, idiot!”, but then you visualise your resignation. what an asshole of a boss.
you lift your head up to meet his eyes, hands buried in the pockets of black trousers, leaning tall over your work cubicle. “i uhm- i was, i was sick. high fever,” oh gosh, you hope he doesn't catch the shakiness in your voice.
“high fever?” park sunghoon raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “convenient timing, don't you think?”
your heart races, and you mentally kick yourself for not thinking of a better excuse. “it came on suddenly,” you stammer, hoping your blush isn’t too obvious. “but i'm feeling better now, so i'll get right on that report.”
and just as you're about to type away on your laptop, a soft but firm grip on your wrist stops you from doing so. and of course, it has to be park sunghoon, the sole trouble maker in your life.
“actually, come meet me at my office,” he says, before letting off your wrist and striding off to his office.
ugh, there you go, another hour long lecture again.
shortly after, you make it to his office. you glance back, all your colleagues getting ready to end their shift and head home. fuck you, park sunghoon, you evil man.
“sir, can i—”
“come in,” sunghoon's serious invites you in, and you close the translucent glass door behind you, which does a pretty good job of reflecting the inner furniture and heads in a blurry, but certain way. “don't just look around, take a seat.”
sunghoon doesn't lift his head up even for a second after you enter the room, he simply gestures you to sit down before him, as he types something on his own laptop, the coffee forgotten and cold beside it. you tap your heels slightly against the office floor, it's been a whole fifteen minutes inside this room already, a minute more and you might just combust.
it's hard to stare at his face. not in a boring, ‘he's so rude’ way, but more of in a breathtaking, ‘i want to kiss him’ way. to be honest, you've imagined how his lips would feel against yours, whether they would move in sync and sweep you by your feet, or steal your breath and make you fantasise. would he like the kiss? would park sunghoon ever kiss you? does he want to kiss you, like you do right now? his ever concentrated face directed towards the laptop screen, the little creases that form around his eyebrows makes him look so cute. you'd like to think that it's just a harmless crush on your grumpy boss, and nothing more than that.
but time's passing by fast, and you need to get home. the taps of your heels against the floor fastens as you say in a tone of urgency.
“mr. park, is this about—”
“call me sunghoon,” he startled you, closing his laptop, “we're of the same age, so it's weird.”
“ok, sunghoon,” you gulp, gosh it feels weird, “is this about me not submitting my leave application?”
“no? it's just a .. friendly talk with my secretary.”
“oh?” what is this bastard planning on again, “well, what is it?”
“how sick were you? i mean, your temperature,” at this point you could throw yourself out of the window. shit, he's kinda smirking, does he really know you weren't sick? that it's all a lie? that you were faking it to avoid a deadline that had you pulling your hair out and attend the corporate party instead? in your defence, that party was much needed by you after a week long of hectic paperwork.
“like about…a 102—”
“i guess people with a 102F fever don't go to parties?” crap. you know that smirk, that ‘i-caught-you-bastard’ smirk. was he at that party too? shit, no way— “i was there too.”
sunghoon sets aside his laptop and leans in against the work desk, folded hands beneath his chin and another ‘know it all’ smirk shoots at you. you gulp, did he listen to you and minji talking too? oh no, no, no, no. you don't want to be fired.
“you annoying bastard,” it was intended to be a low whisper, but under the pressure of your enraging boss's stare, it came out louder than you intended.
“annoying bastard? i think that suits me?”
“no, mr park i didn't mean—”
“no no it's okay, i get that, a lot,” and now he gets up from his seat, circling around his desk to stand just in front of you.
“but i don't get ‘he's cute’ a lot.”
shit.
“i don't get ‘i like him’,‘he's so handsome’,‘he's so gorgeous’ a lot,” you were too mesmerised by his walks and the glints of his eyes to realise he's too close now, hands on either sides of the arm rest in your chair, blocking you in, “i don't get… ‘i wish i could kiss him’ a lot.”
shit, is he smiling or smirking? you can't really say when his face is inches above yours, babbling nothing but the truth. you had in fact shared your little desires about your boss to your best friend, minji, in the party. if only you knew he would be there, you would've bolted out of that place.
this current situation is really getting to you. you're trapped in a damn chair, you don't dare to move as his face only comes closer. a sudden wave of deja vu hits you; no, you've never been trapped in a chair like this by your boss before. but this intimacy, this fluttering proximity reminds you of those playful staring contest between you and him across the office, stumbling over paperwork and crashing against sunghoons chest, and now, this. you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, as slowly his face transcends down further, now right beside your ear, his lips softly brushing the earlobe.
“no, i-i mean the other park sunghoon, you k-know?”
“hmm? but there's only one park sunghoon in the hype building whom i know of.”
“no you're getting me—”
park sunghoon doesn't let you finish your sentence, he thinks you're too cute to not kiss right now, so he does just that.
a small kiss, a look of admiration and fush in his eyes, then another, and another, and this one holds for a moment.
and the kiss is just as you imagined, soft, sensual, in sync with your rapid heartbeats as the distance slowly begins to disappear, his hands closing in around your cheeks to cup them.
he pulls back, breathing heavy with that smug smirk of his, “was it … cute? or gorgeous?”
“i think i want to kiss you once more,” you whisper. a twitching smile, shy eyes looking up at him and he smiles back, you feel yourself blushing again.
“of course,” sunghoon chuckles, now lifting you up from the chair and sitting down on it himself. placing you on his lap, he leans in for a sweet kiss, once more. it's just as soft and breathtaking as before, this time, you melt even more as you hook your hands around his neck and blush furiously into the kiss.
sitting on your boss’s lap to share a passionate kiss was definitely not in your bingo list this year.
his kisses travel down from your lips, becoming more feathery and ticklish as they reach your cheeks, jaw and finally the crook of your neck.
“i think i find you quite gorgeous too,” he holds you by your waist.
“you think?”
“nah, i'm sure”
“would then be uhm, like to be personal secretary?” he smirks, caressing your cheeks.
“and what do i get in return?” you chuckle
“anything you want,” he reassures, softly gliding a hand behind your back. your eyes surge around the office room for a potential gift, and then they land on the big bold ‘CEO PARK SUNGHOON’ engraved on the metal plate, and then you look back at him, “anything?”
“oh? mrs. ceo?” he smirks again, looking at the plate and then back at you. “of course, you can be the boss,”
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a/n — yayaya comeback fic how r u guys, missed ya smsmsm ^0^ pleek lmk what u think of this !!! personally, my skills r cooked TT CLICK ME
© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission
📌 :: PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN ( the tags are rebloged ! ) nets. @/k-labels
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cjlouwho · 4 months ago
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“Hey, Cutie. What's your name?”
Buck stopped digging to look up at the man, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Buck,” he replied simply, sucking in a deep breath.
“Buck?” he questioned. “Just Buck?”
Buck sighed. “Evan Buckley. Most people call me Buck.”
The man smiled. “Evan's nice. I like Evan. I'm gonna call you Evan.”
“My boyfriend's really the only one who does that.”
The man stepped closer, invading Buck's personal space. “You're already taken?”
“I- I am,” Buck replied, tripping over his words. Now that he was closer, this man did have some beautiful blue eyes. They nearly stared right into his soul.
“Hm.” The man shook his head. “That's a shame,” he looked Buck up and down. “You're really... really hot.”
“Pr- Probably from the wildfire th- that's nearby.”
The man laughed. Damn, even his laugh did something to Buck. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I think you'd look good no matter what.”
“I really, um, I need to get back to digging, so the fire doesn't spread.”
“Looks like you could use a break to me.” The man pulled a bottle of water from his pocket, and the sight of it nearly made Buck's dry mouth start to water. “Ice cold, just for you.”
And well, it would almost be rude not to take the water. So he did.
He twisted the cap off and drank nearly half the bottle down. He couldn't help but notice the man watched every gulp, staring at his throat like he wanted to lick the sweat right off.
“Thank you,” Buck said once he finished. He went to hand the bottle back, but the man shook his head.
“That's yours,” he said. “Can't have a man as handsome as you passing out from dehydration. Someone may have to give you mouth to mouth.”
Buck swallowed hard. “Th- Then why'd you give me the water?”
Buck watched the man's blue eyes darken, his breathing picking up. He reached out, tugging on the collar of Buck's wildland gear to fix it. “You've gotta be careful, Evan. I don't usually go for taken men, but I might have to change my mind.” His hand slowly ran down Buck's chest as he pulled away from him.
Buck's breath hitched. He couldn't look away from this man. Couldn't help all the feelings bubbling up deep in his gut. “I... I don't even know your name.”
“Might be better that way,” the man replied, taking another step closer. His eyes moved down to Buck's lips. “I'll be able to remember you forever, and you can go back to your boyfriend and forget I ever existed.”
“I- I don't know if I could do that.”
“What? Go back to your boyfriend? Or forget me? Cause-”
“Dear God,” Eddie interrupted, exasperated. “You know other people can hear you, right? Get a room, or better yet, get a truck. I'll cover for you if it'll get you two to stop... whatever the hell this is.”
Buck sighed, resting a hand on his hip as he turned to Eddie. “We were just getting to the good part.”
“You've done this before?!” he exclaimed.
“Two days ago,” Hen informed him as she passed by. She gave a wave to the man. “Hey, Tommy.”
“Hi, Hen. Eddie,” he greeted with a nod and a smile.
Eddie groaned. “You two are pathetic.”
“Oh, are they doing that weird roleplay thing again?” Chimney asked as he walked up beside Eddie.
“You've heard it too?”
“I think half the firefighters in the county have heard it by now.”
“Three weeks!” Buck reminded them, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “We've been here for three weeks without more than a few seconds alone. Let me have this.”
Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “I'm gonna go get me a water since, apparently, it doesn't matter if I pass out from dehydration.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “I'll bring you a water next time.”
“What about me?” Chimney asked. “Because, if I remember right, you'll have to give me mouth to mouth if I fall to the ground.”
“I will bring everyone water next time.” Tommy spoke loudly, so everyone around could hear.
“That's better,” Chimney said. He patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Come on, let's give the lovebirds a minute.”
Tommy turned back to Buck. “As much as I'd love to finish the scene,” he said once the others had walked away, “I do have to go. I told my group I'd only be five minutes.”
Buck couldn't help his pout, but he also knew he had to get back to work too. “When we get home, if we ever get to go home, we're not putting on clothes for three days.”
Tommy smiled, nose scrunching up. “Deal,” he agreed. He leaned in and gave Buck a quick peck on the lips. “I gotta go. Love you, Cutie,” he said with a wink.
Before he could walk off, Buck grabbed his turnouts and pulled Tommy back for one more kiss before letting him go. “Love you too. Be safe.”
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sugarttoru · 1 month ago
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WANNA GET DRŪNK AND NĀSTY? yeah.
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: your friend gojo gets wasted with his friends, you're the only one left sober— as a kind friend, you help him.
𝗖𝗪: dub-cōn, alcōhol consumption, Gojo is pūssydrūnk, dom!gojo, he speaks bad English and then speaks natively to reader during ykwim (w translations) and reader understands, dirty talk, talking through it, voice kink, humping, oral!fem receiving, tounge fūcking, overstim, passing out, after care, Gojo magically stays put while drunk (until you got home with him.)
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“How am I gonna carry a man home?” You thought to yourself. You set him down on a bench Infront of the bar, "where's your phone, 'Jo?" He doesn't answer, a hiccup leaving his lips. "Lost it.. sorry.." you hear him murmur. You watch him sharply as he leans on the bench. "I'll call a taxi, alright? Stay put." He nods, crossing his arms. A few minutes passed by, you gently pat him on his back, leading him into the car— letting him in first.
You pull him close, letting his head lean on your shoulder. The whole ride stayed silent. Another minutes past by— "home, now..?" He asks, you take a peek over his face, his features rested as he continues to close his eyes— he's too tired to even open them— you felt pity. "Not yet." You simply replied. "okay.." you're surprised he's well behaved—
but currently, you wish you had never thought of that. You can't remember anything earlier, damn it. You cannot especially if his face is sandwiched between your plush thighs, eating you out so casually. Your hands— trembling and all sweaty manages to grapple on his soft white locks, repeatedly moaning his name.
"気分はいいですか?" (Are you feeling good?) You huff, sweat trailing down your forehead, you can't seem to formulate your words— he understands, further digging his tounge. "すごく美味しいです��…" (you taste so good...) he murmurs against you, sending further vibrations. "Sweet.. wan' more.." his fingers marks your hips, pulling you closer to his face— his tounge shamelessly ravaging your cunt.
"逃げないで、ベイビー." (No pulling away, baby.) His possessive hands hold your sweet cūnt close— you roll your eyes just by hearing him speaking his native language, your back arching at an imposible curvature. "please— あなたをもっと味わいたい!" (I want to taste you better!)
"Ngh- 'toru, 'm close!" You yell out, your orgasm churning in your stomach. You hump closer to his face, chasing your high. "Fuck.. fuck me.." you take a peek over his face— his eyebrows are knitted, his eyes are closed— he buries half of his face in your pūssy— "ngh-!" You moan out, your high washing over you and his face. He eagerly licks you clean, overstimulating you—
You feel lukewarm water wash over you, a pair of arms wrapping around your mushy, sore body. "Sorry, you now good?" He smiles oh so innocently at you, "yes.." you squeak, leaning back against him before closing your eyes once again.
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A/n: gojo who is cannonly bad at speaking English has my heart.
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mirohlayo · 7 months ago
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GIRLY GIRL : YOUR LANDO'S
LIPSTICK MARKS
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( Lando is often your art painting, especially when it comes to kissing him )
warnings : none just fluff
note : I loved the first girly girl writing and I decided to turn it into a little series of girly girl things
word count : 934
You weren't really the type to wear lipstick. Well, it even made you wonder if you often wore makeup. But if there was one thing you never forgot about your makeup, it was to beautify your lips not only for you, but also for someone else's face.
“Stay in my arms baby.” Lando whines as you deliberately try to escape from his embrace. “I would love to spend this day in bed too, but we have to get ready to join your friends.” You scold him gently, pulling the covers over your legs.
"I can cancel the outing. And stay with you." His dejected puppy eyes beg you to let him cuddle you in his arms under the soft blankets, and despite this adorable face, your brain has other plans in mind. You smile before placing a long kiss on his forehead. "We'll do this tomorrow. I'll go get ready."
Lando reluctantly lets you escape from his hold, while he watches with a sulky face you locking in the bathroom. You rush to wash and put on makeup, since it's already quite late and the morning is soon coming to an end. After getting out of the shower, you stand in front of the large mirror that adorns the wall to put on some light makeup.
You grab a brush lying around in your makeup bag to apply blush to your cheekbones, making your face softer and brighter. Your mascara is attached to your lashes and your liner is impeccable and symmetrical. All that remains is the final touch, the one you love above all else. Your lips.
You much prefer glosses to lipsticks, but today you decide it's time to change your habits. You rummage through your makeup bag until you come across the little tube of nude lipstick that you adore so much. And that Lando particularly appreciates too. You pass the product on your lips to apply a generous layer.
The bathroom door opens to reveal an enthusiastic Lando, perhaps still a little sleepy, but dazzled by the person standing before him. A huge smile takes place on his face as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Beautiful as always, princess” His lips brush the tip of your nose to place a soft kiss there.
“Thank you my boy. Now it’s your turn to get ready, I’ll leave it to you.” You smile at him one last time before moving away to leave him alone, but his arms hold you in place. You raise your head to meet his sulking gaze. "Ah-ah. I want my kiss."
A mocking smile spreads across your face as you subtly roll your eyes. But your boyfriend's face looks very serious and you can see that he is just waiting for your lips on his skin. So, leaning on his chest, you press your lips to his cheek. You stay like that a little longer than a simple kiss, to trace the mark of your lips on his cheek.
You pull back slowly, and Lando can't stop smiling like a silly child as he admires the trace of your lipstick on his skin. “Ohh, I love it.” You let out a laugh as you kiss him one last time, leaving the bathroom. And it's not long before he leaves the room as quickly as he entered it.
And on the doorstep, Lando won't be able to stop begging you for yet another kiss. “Baby, I need another lipstick kiss.” He literally begs you with his eyes. “Lando, you already have three on your face.” A laugh escapes your throat at the sight of your boyfriend, simply adorable with his lipstick marks all over his face.
"Yes, but I want to make sure everyone knows you're mine. My girl" He pouts a little, begging you again for one last kiss. And as you finish tinting your lips with your lipstick, you cup your boyfriend's face to press your lips to his temple.
And there's no need to describe Lando's euphoric expression when he looks at himself in the mirror by the door, happy to be covered in four pretty traces of your lips. "Now we can go out. Let's go baby." He wraps his hand in yours and finally closes the door behind you.
And on the way, you won't be able to help but admire him. His curly hair falling lightly on his forehead, and your lipstick marks on his cheeks and face. Oh sure, there's no one more adorable than this boy. But perhaps the most adorable thing is the way Lando cherishes your kiss marks.
Because for him, it's the best way to show that he belongs to you, that he is destined for you and that for nothing in the world he will replace you. That you are his and that he intends to repel every girl who approaches him because of your lipstick marks. Oh gosh, he could really die to be covered in these marks.
The way your lips press gently against his skin, delicately imprinting him with the nude color of your lip product. And the silhouette of your lips on his face. He'll probably never admit it, but it's one of his favorite things in the world. It might be a little too showy, but Lando doesn't care, because after all he'll never stop begging you for more.
And you can be sure that he is extremely proud of it, when he displays this grandiose smile in front of your friends "Those kisses? Oh, they come from the most beautiful and adorable girl on this earth. My girlfriend".
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changetyre · 3 months ago
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Hold this Papa
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SUMMARY: While facing symptoms of your most recent pregnancy Max is tasked with looking after your youngest daughter while on a meeting. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse
WARNINGS: Crack, fluffiness, pregnancy sickness
A/N: Happy Halloween! Enjoy.
"Max don't worry I can-" You were cut off by your wave of nausea forced to take deep breaths in order not to throw up right then and there. 
"Baby, stop it's fine. I can watch her, they'll understand." Max insisted. 
Today Max had an important Zoom meeting with his management team and other team bosses who had been making Max offers which he'd be a fool not to at least listen to. Lea was out with her uncle Lando who'd offered to take her for the day and you were going to stay with Lea and have a girl's day. 
That was until you woke up with the worst nausea of your pregnancy so far. You'd woken up immediately throwing up and had failed to keep much food down all morning. Max offered to cancel everything and take you to the hospital but you knew how important this meeting was and told him you could go after if it was still this bad. 
Max reluctantly accepted but he still knew you wouldn't be able to look after Ivy properly with the state you were in and he very much preferred if you could focus on trying to hydrate and keep some food down for now.
"Hmm I think it's getting better, I haven't thrown up that apple slice I had 10 minutes ago." You commented as the nausea somewhat passed. 
"That's good but I'm still taking Ivy." Max kissed your cheek before walking away needing to hurry for his meeting in 2 minutes. 
"Fine. But if she's too much trouble just send me a text and I'll come grab her." You hollered as he walked out. 
"Okay," Max yelled back before picking Ivy up from the living room where she had been playing and taking her inside his office which was still big enough for Ivy to remain entertained as he had brought in a few of her toys as well. "Okay, Ivy stay in here okay? Papa's going to be on a phone call so we have to be quiet but if you need something come to whisper to me okay." Max explained to his daughter. 
"Okay, papa." Ivy giggled not fully grasping the instructions but already too entertained with a toy she'd picked up from the floor. 
Max smiled kissing his daughter's head before walking over to his desk where he quickly connected to his Zoom call. 
"Morning Max, how's y/n doing?" Raymond, Max's manager who had been alerted of the possible disruptions asked. 
"Morning, uh, still feeling pretty poorly but she's putting a brave face on for me at the moment." Max answered polity. 
"Papa." Max heard the hushed voice of his daughter beside him looking down to see her handing him a Barbie doll.
"Thank you, Ivy." Max took it from her quickly muting himself as the meeting began. Ivy ran away happily. 
Max locked his focus into the meeting as soon as crucial information began to play out, taking a small notebook out he jotted down important points and questions he might have to discuss at the end so apart from a few glances to check his daughter wasn't in actual danger Max didn't fully process what his daughter was getting up to. 
"Papa hold this." Ivy ran back to Max handing him a wooden block which Max took and placed on his lap alongside the barbie he'd been previously given. 
"To be fully honest with you I care about the car, I need a good car and right now, dismissing the last few races, RedBull has given me a good consistent car, what are your guarantees?" Max asked. 
"Hold this papa." Ivy had once again run over to Max handing him a coloring book. Max took it without question looking down and noticing a variety of toys on his lap he had no recollection of receiving.
Looking back to the meeting he noticed Raymond struggling to keep a straight face as Ivy once again walked into the frame handing Max a tiara. "Put it on papa," Ivy whined when Max simply added it to the array of toys on his lap. 
"Shh okay Ivy." Max accepted not wanting to upset his daughter further putting the tiara on his head. 
"Looking good Max." Everyone collectively laughed in the meeting. 
"Just girl dad things." Max laughed with them. 
Luckily Ivy seemed to entertain herself with this for most of the meeting simply filling Max's lap with things as well as handing him things to wear but it also seemed to tire her out. Just as the meeting was wrapping up Ivy walked over to her dad once more. 
"Papa up." Ivy whined. 
Max happily picked up his daughter letting everything on his lap fall to the floor to set her down on his lap. "I'm almost done, Ivy." Max kissed his daughter's cheek as she wrapped her small arms around his neck resting her head on his chest. 
"Papa I miss mommy." Ivy sighed. 
"I know baby I miss her too, I'm almost done." Max rubbed his daughter's back soothingly. 
It didn't take much longer for the meeting to finally end but once it did Max looked down to see his daughter fast asleep in his arms.  
Walking back outside with Ivy in his arms he was relieved to find you in the kitchen having a proper meal which looked to be almost done. "How are you feeling my love?" Max asked you. 
"Aww my sweet baby." You first acknowledged your sleeping daughter giving her back a rub before answering Max. "Much better, I had a smoothie before this and managed to keep it all down." 
"That's great schatje." Max leaned down to kiss you. "Let me put Ivy in her bed then we can cuddle for a bit." 
"Sounds perfect." You smiled happily. "No more vomiting please." You spoke down to your bump jokingly. 
Despite the harder pregnancy, everything was perfect. 
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kissesz · 7 days ago
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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
caitlyn kiramman x f!reader
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warnings: see above, mdni. this is nothing but pwp. f!sub!reader. f!dom!caitlyn. mean!caitlyn. but it's soft. she's only a little mean. also a little flawed but like, who isn't? semi-toxic it is then. she's very sorry you guys are making up later. vaginal fingering. cunnilingus. orgasm denial (1x). biting. p.s. english is not my first language, please bear with my struggling.
read here on ao3
notes: first post, hi!!! if you love women as much as i do, consider sticking around! this was requested (and encouraged to post) by one of my dearest friends, em. i'll love you always. and to my sweetest readers who managed to make it this far, i cherish each and every one of you, stay wonderful. feel free to comment your thoughts, shoot me a message, i'm all ears.
(repost because i fucked up the formatting, whoops.)
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Two rapid knocks on your door after the clock has struck two only meant a single thing as of late.
Caitlyn Kiramman.
A woman you grew to hold close and dear in the depths of your heart. She’s shining prestige wrapped in affluence and grace with sugared kindness that blooms a warmth in your chest. The concept of the unattainable envisioned by the masses. She’s soft with affection where she ought to be, sharp and cold where it benefits her.
And yet, here she was. At your doorstep, at this ungodly hour, like clockwork.
You didn’t know when, exactly, this became routine. Perhaps it began with stolen glances across crowded rooms, or fleeting conversations that swirled around in your mind far longer than they should have. Caitlyn had always been a topic of interest to you, carefully composed, her smiles perfectly rehearsed, her every move designed to captivate. And yet, somewhere along the way, she let you see behind the curtain. Not all at once, but piece by piece, until you could no longer remember how you managed to hold her at arm’s length to begin with.
Maybe it was the night she showed up on your doorstep for the first time, instead of you on hers, drenched from the rain, the mask of elegance she wore so well slightly cracked. You’d never seen her like that before: vulnerable, desperate for a moment of reprieve. She didn’t say why she came to you, but she didn’t have to. The answer was in the way her voice trembled when she finally spoke, in the way she clung to you like you were the only stable thing in a world determined to break her.
You should’ve questioned it. Should’ve hesitated before letting her in, before letting her slip past your defenses so easily. But you didn’t. Instead, you simply held her, murmured quiet reassurances against her temple as she exhaled shakily into your collarbone. As if you were someone she could turn to. As if you were hers to seek comfort in.
Or maybe it wasn’t one defining moment at all. Maybe it was the accumulation of a thousand small gestures: the way she reached for your hand without thinking, or how she never left your side without making sure you felt safe. The way her laughter softened in your presence, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear. The way her fingertips brushed against yours in passing, always lingering for a fraction longer than necessary. The way her eyes sought you out first in every room, as if to silently ask, Are you alright? before anyone else even considered it.
You didn’t ask for her affection, and yet, here she was—woven into your life so tightly that you couldn’t imagine untangling her, even if you wanted to.
Now, she stood patient. Draped in a tailored fur-lined coat that framed her figure like it belonged in a gallery. Gold glinted in the low light—her jewelry, her dress, the faint shimmer of her makeup, all intentionally resembling starlit skies. Even in the dead of night, where most fall victim to obscurity, she was truly flawless.
You had tried, once, to ignore it—to turn away from the soft tap of her knuckles against your door, to pretend you didn’t care whether she came or not. That resolve had crumbled the moment she spoke your name through the threshold, hushed and laced with something dangerously close to yearning.
And so, like always, you found yourself standing before her, breath uneven, pulse traitorous.
Pushing down the handle, you stepped back to let the door fall ajar.
“You’re awake,” Caitlyn noted, her tone soft and conversational, though her sharp eyes certainly betrayed her. She offered a smile, which you returned in kind. It was familiar, comforting. You let your eyes take her in, committing every detail of her to memory as if she’d forever be gone by the next sunrise.  
Leaning against the doorframe, you let your head rest against the pale ivory of the wall. It was late. “Barely.” 
Her smile widened slightly, but she said nothing, merely stepping forward as though your presence in the doorway was an invitation. Her arms enveloped you, as did the scent of her perfume: something vanilla with an edge of spice, curling around the slightest of florals. You nuzzled into the crook of her neck, closing your eyes to savour the sensation of being in her proximity. Her hands came to rest on your back, pulling you impossibly closer.
There was something unbearably vicious about the way she held you. Like she knew you needed it more than she did. Like she could sense the weight of her absence pressing into your ribs, suffocating, unbearable. She never said it aloud, never boasted of it, but you felt it in the way her fingers curled against the fabric of your shirt, just barely tightening. The smallest tell.
A soft sigh squeezed itself from your lungs as you parted, and she tilted up your chin to hold your gaze for a second seemingly never ending. When Caitlyn decided she had admired you enough, (but only for the time being) she clashed your lips together in a kiss so deep you feared you’d drown.
That happened a lot with her. The incessant fear you could easily lose yourself.
She kissed like she had no intention of stopping—like she wanted to steal every thought, every protest, every inch of hesitation until all that remained was her. Until she was carved into your bones.
Gentle teeth then nipped at you, snapping you out of whatever reverie you were beginning to spiral into as your breaths grew heavier.
“I missed you,” was whispered into the oxygen-depleted air between you by Caitlyn, as she ever so slowly started inching towards your couch. Those three words floated, so quiet, yet so heavy. The depth of them crashed over you like a wave, making your thoughts hazy as you struggled to breathe.
The worst part? You believed her.
You always believed her.
It was a dangerous thing, the way she could make you forget the ache of waiting. How she could saunter into your life after days—weeks—without word, and with one look, one touch, have you willing to unravel at her feet.
Pulling you along with her, seeing as you didn’t protest, she moved with an ease that suggested she’s done this countless times. Familiarized herself with your space enough to know you’ll trust her to guide. You didn’t want to admit you’d do so regardless. 
But she knew.
Gods, she always knew.
There was no hiding from her. No veiling the way your body responded to her, no pretending she didn't have this hold over you. She saw every flicker of reluctance, every frantic breath, and she made it her mission to unravel you. To pull apart the pieces of you that were too stubborn to fall in line.
As the back of your knees hit the edge of the couch, she pushed you downwards, your back now against plush velvet. Caitlyn pulled back, her lips puffy and swollen as if mirroring yours, pupils dilated as if high out of her mind on the taste of you. Her fingers skimmed your skin like fire, searing a path from your collarbones, down between your chest, before finally finding purchase on the sash of your robe, pulling and watching as it fell open, mesmerized. You wanted to say something. To stop her before you lost yourself entirely in her. But the words never came. How could they when she was looking at you like that? Feral, tinged with something much deeper than desire. Her hands found your waist next, fingers pressing in just enough to make you gasp, to make you arch instinctively into her touch. She knew you so well. Knew exactly how to make you bend to her, how to make you fall apart at her will.
And then, she kissed you again.
This time, it was different. Less tender than before, more demanding—insistent. Her lips crashed against yours with the intensity of a storm, and you couldn’t help but meet her with equal fervor. She tasted like whiskey and something richer, something intoxicating, and you drank it in as if it were the last thing you'd ever have.
Your pulse raced as she pulled back, but only enough to leave a teasing space between you, enough to make you ache. She took a staggering, deliberate breath as she admired the mess she'd made of you.
Her voice, low and perilous, cut through the quiet. "I want you," she whispered, her lips barely brushing against yours, three words that made your heart race with an intensity you weren’t sure you were prepared for.
Messy, so messy as sly fingers snaked themselves around your breast, painstakingly slowly closing, increasing the pressure of which they’ve captured it. Your pulse fluttered, and Caitlyn swallowed the deliciously high-pitched moan threatening to spill from your velvety lips. Once only a string of saliva connected the memories of your kiss, she dove headfirst into the fragile skin of your neck, sucking and biting on it like a predator starved. The gloss of her lips smeared against you colorless, only blooming hues from beneath by her ministrations contrasted against your skin tone. A myriad of carmine and crimson, dancing in spots and dots of darker and lighter.
Flexing one knee upward you pressed it against her side, asking, the burn in your abdomen pooling deeper—dripping molten in carnal need. A pathetic keen was what you could offer as a cry for salvation, the state of your desperation swirling into and sweetening your blood. Caitlyn huffed a sound akin to a giggle, reveling in your sounds reverberating around her heart, savouring every inch of you as her hands stilled, and moved to trace down your sides. Deliciously tingling shivers were her reward, only, the true euphoria of eye-rolling breathlessness rested lower, between your thighs. 
Though not before she spellboundly locked your eyes together, to witness your fall from grace, had her hand made the descent against your glistening folds.
Caitlyn Kiramman was clever with her fingers. She was an excellent shot, after all. Manicured, slender, long and expressive—from the very start she delighted in curling and waving them around unnecessarily seductively every chance she got. Intertwining and lacing them around the neck of a wine glass, door handles, your shoulders, all while you fell enchanted, and far down a wicked fantasy of her digits buried inside of you.
Accompanying a sharp, satisfied intake of breath from her, they sunk impossibly deep with no warning. A sight to behold and cherish for her you were, as an obscene whine loud enough to wake the city, followed by a filthy whimper that made her want to tear you apart, tumbled from your parted, lovebitten lips. Her fingers picked up a pace from which they never slowed, hooking up to caress your saccharine inner walls as they tightened around her in order to suffocate.
And oh it was pristine unadulterated ecstasy when her thumb found its leverage on your clit, drawing tight circles around it as if chasing and ruthlessly shoving you towards your orgasm.
“Ngh- Cait- ah-”
Pitiful little thing you were, spine contorted unnaturally, breath heaving, hair sprawled beneath you as you gazed up through glossy eyes at the harbinger of your exhilaration, only to find soulful azures staring lovingly back at you.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” Her ambery tones of cashmere and cardamom suffocated you, dripping your senses in a glowing warmth, nuanced by a dusky tint in the way she formed her syllables. An unspoken truth between you was interrupted by yet another mewl, alongside a fumbling hand clutching at her wrist in silent command to keep going.
No perplexion in the fact she obliged, even going as far to lean further down in order to languidly lick a stroke up the expanse of your breast, encircling a nipple between greedy lips. Your toes curled as the sudden absence of air in your lungs hit you like the first note of a symphony, the kind that built steadily but constantly, keeping you blind with pleasure as it swept you into its crescendo. Sweet release was within reach, your restless heartbeat a telltale sign and the unabashed squelching sounds of your core a reassurance nonpareil. Frenzied, as you are done apart, hands now pawing at the sheets—it took only a particularly sharp thrust of her finger upward to have you almost toppling and falling over the edge.
But as soon as you felt it, it was gone. Hollow was the space inside of you, squeezing and tightening against grueling, agonizing nothing, as all stimuli were robbed of you. 
Whipping your head upwards with a cry akin to that of wounded prey, you sank your nails into Caitlyn's wrist. Something livid and bewildered flickered in your eyes, alongside the undeniable flow of salty tears that threatened to spill lest you blinked them back. 
“Why? Why did you-”
Cruel, devilishly cruel and vile was the laugh that tore its way through her throat, smoky vetiver strangling bygone syrupy spice and comfort. It was utterly amusing to her how melodramatic you could act, like this was disturbingly traumatic to that poor tiny heart of yours. Shiny, pearly white teeth glinted beneath the dull lighting as she yanked you closer by your calves.
Her mouth made direct contact with your slit in a split second—an experimental lick descending onto your swollen clit had you sobbing out her name like a mantra meant for worship. 
You didn’t just say it—you felt it, like you were kneeling at the altar of her touch, drowning in the devotion she’d drawn from you, effortlessly.
“Mhm, good girl.” Her humming vibrated against you, the praise spilling from her lips resembling cloyingly sugar-saturated ambrosia. Doubling down on her efforts her grip was bordering on hurtful, tongue curling just at the right angle to have you lightheaded, lost, wailing and whining as the knot in your stomach threatened to unfurl. Though, there now lacked a sense of serene to wash over you as her threat of denial wasn’t foreign to you anymore. 
And what does one do when they find themselves needing more—when they’re lost in uncertainty, fear gnawing at the edges of their thoughts? Pray, of course.
Opening your mouth for stray honeyed pleas of "Please," easily softened her to devoted compliance. It was music to her ears, absolutely addicting. There was a certain cadence to your voice, trembling with need, with the kind of vulnerability that made her all the more ravenous, swirling her tongue around a spot that made you see stars. 
It didn’t take long for you to come undone with a pornographic moan—blinding white bliss abruptly veiling you, your thighs quivering and breath held, every drop of your juices diligently lapped up by the woman still nestled in the midst of your legs. 
Closing your eyes, the rise and fall of your chest was the sole thing keeping you grounded. And when it fell silent, no more Caitlyn caressing you merciful and gentle: porcelain cracked and glass shattered as in response to your comedown. Your stares locked, now wide open, both of you suspended in the stillness. 
Caitlyn didn’t rush to move, her presence still coiling around you like a weight. Her fingertips brushed against your skin one last time, slow and deliberate, before she shifted, finally distancing herself. The warmth of her body, the comfort of her touch, seemed to vanish all at once, leaving a cold void in its wake. She sat up, taking her precious time, as though her every movement was meant to torment you. You couldn’t help but watch, unable to break the trance she’d mercilessly dragged you into. She didn’t look back at you immediately, but when she did, her eyes held something—a tenderness, yes, but also something unreadable. You couldn’t tell if she pitied you or if she simply treasured the downright control she had over you.
“It’s late, isn’t it?” she said, a casual observation that somehow felt like a statement heavier than whatever was anchoring your states of mind. She tilted her head, her gaze now piercing, but there was no harshness there, just that sharp, calculating precision you had come to recognize. “You should sleep. You really should.” 
But you couldn’t just let her leave like that, couldn’t let her slip away when the air between you still crackled with the remnants of everything that had just passed. You opened your mouth, ready to say something—anything—to pull her back. Maybe beg her to stay a little longer, maybe ask her why she was so calm, so composed when every part of you felt exposed and desperate.
But before you could speak, she was there, leaning over you once more, her presence surrounding you like a blizzard unforgiving, frigid and bitter. Tilting your face up to meet hers, her eyes locked onto yours with a force magnetic that made it impossible to look elsewhere.
“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice hushed, silencing. Sour and acrid was the tone that reprimanded—shut you up like one would a child. There was no room for argument, no room for anything but what she allowed.
Her lips pressed against yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your airways, quieting the words that had formed on your tongue, now buried and dead. It was a kiss that took, that owned, that coerced you to forget everything else. You melted into it, no resistance left, just the feeling of her mouth against yours, a reminder of the untainted power she held over you. Her lips were plush, but the kiss was anything but. It was an imprint, a claim, and before you could even process the heat of it, she was pulling away, leaving you gasping with a faint, satisfied smile dancing at the corner of her lips.
“You know where I am if you need me,” she said, her voice drifting like a whisper through corners secluded, a promise without a guarantee.
And just like that, she stood. The couch shifted slightly as she moved, her body vanishing from your sight as she made her way to the door. You didn’t speak. You didn’t move. All you could do was watch her, feeling the sorrow of her absence the moment she stepped away.
With one last lingering glance, Caitlyn reached for the door, grazing the handle. She paused, as though considering something, and then her voice broke the quiescence once more.
“Rest,” she said softly, her words like velour—slipping through the air discreetly. “You’ve earned it.”
She was gone.
©️ kissesz
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rindreamery · 1 month ago
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hi, nishi!!
first off, congrats again for 300 followers!
so, for the event, my character will be: itoshi sae.
flavor: spicy
add ons: topping 1- eye contact. topping 2: best friend's brother.
thank you, and take your time.
ORDER 8: READY TO GO !
sae + spicy + eye contact + best friend's brother w.c. 800+
note. thank you ira 🤍 and thank you for your patience with this !! ik i've been slacking a little with my posting schedule, but i swear i'll prioritize the event fics from now on before posting other fics. (my own personal time-out 😞)
interested in more? check out the lounge !
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stepping into the threshold of rin’s kitchen, the last person you had expected to see was sae. 
as far as you were aware, he was still supposed to be in spain for another two weeks. but rin had a habit of never telling you when sae had a change of plans, when he was was back, and, much to your dismay, when he was coming over. that was simply up to you to find out, for yourself, whenever you visited. 
like now. 
sae’s standing just a few feet away from you, leaning on the counter as he sips on the remainder of his water, eyes staring off into the window across the room. he’s clad in a plain tee and sweats, waistband hanging unreasonably low on his hips and giving you a clear view of his v-line, and his hair is unruly from having just woken up— yet, somehow, he manages to pull the look off. a little too well, you note to yourself. he looks a little too good, and it almost feels like a sin to check him out so blatantly, like it’s a sin to be thinking such things about him. maybe it is, in a way. 
you could already feel the pressure of rin’s judgemental stare, although not there physically, at the way you gawk openly at his brother. “gross, never call my brother ‘hot’ ever again,” his distant words echo somewhere in the back of your mind, reminding you that he’s not particularly fond of the idea of you cozying up with his brother. you had mentioned it in passing, once, as a joke, only to be met with distaste and a nasty side-eye. “it’s disturbing, so please, shut up.” 
you should take that as a sign; you should leave, clear your mind, and go back to minding your own business. acting like you don’t care all that much about him, despite your painfully obvious attraction. unfortunately, you were never truly known for your acting. because as you’re about to turn away, about to spin on your heel and walk back to rin’s room, you freeze in place.
your gaze gets caught on the way his biceps flex under the thin material of his shirt, the lines becoming more defined as he brings his drink up to his lips. hook, line, and sinker— the way you can’t seem to look away, even for just a second. your eyes hike down and then up the line of his bicep, and then his forearm, and then the hand that’s gripping onto the glass. equally distracted by the veins that decorate the skin on his hand, prominent as his fingers stretch around the glass. you’re distracted by him, in his entirety. 
you forget that you’re standing in his periphery, and the realization comes to you a second too late. 
sae’s eyes flicker over to you once he notices your presence, scanning down the length of your body as he does a brief once-over of you, one of his brows quirking up at the way you linger awkwardly at the entrance of the kitchen. he’s still sipping his drink, lips pressed tightly against the glass, but his eyes remain locked onto yours. they’re passive, unreadable like always, digging into your skin uncomfortably as the two of you stand there in silence. neither daring to say a word, or maybe, just not knowing what to say. 
you should feel embarrassed at the thought of having been caught, but you’re more flustered by the way he eyes you down. the weight of his stare is steady and intense, coupled with the dragging silence, and it makes you shift awkwardly on your feet. you’re about to clear your throat, come up with some lame excuse of forgetting what you needed from the kitchen, and booking it to rin’s room. but as your mouth opens to speak, sae cuts you off.
“nice outfit,” he says, voice low and even. you follow the way his eyes form a trail down your body, landing on the oversized shirt you were currently wearing. you can feel the way he lingers at the hem of your shirt, staring at the way it stops shy of your upper thighs. before they flick up back to meet your eyes, still passive, but now flickering with amusement?
you blink at him once, and then twice, and then a third time. “what?” you manage to sputter out, taken aback by the random compliment, feeling the surface of your skin burn from the way he had blatantly checked you out, too. but, also confused; you glance down at the shirt, noting that it was nothing worth complimenting. “uhm, thanks? rin lent them to me 'cause i spilled something on my clothes. they're comfy, at least."
the amusement flickers off into nothing, at your answer.
sae seems displeased, evident in the way he reacts to your words. he presses his lips together, and for a second, you see a flash of jealousy in his eyes. or maybe, it’s your delusions speaking. you’re not quite sure.
he gets up from where he was leaning on the counter, focused on you as he takes a tentative step towards you.
your feet stay locked in place as he closes the distance between the two of you with slow, calculating steps. “that’s my shirt you’re wearing, you know.” the jealousy in his tone is more apparent, putting emphasis on my and you’re, dragging the syllables on his tongue. "not rin's."
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© rindreamery, 2025
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