#it makes him feel very little and cute!! >///< he likes to feel that way thank you!!!!

[persicipen]

𑑛 “CARNAL DESIRES” ﾉ MYDEI. HONKAI STAR RAIL

afab gn reader ﾉ words 1.9k ✘ so very messy and sweaty and rough. he likes it when you bite him. dacryphilia. creampie. reader loves this dynamic and to be absolutely destroyed in bed. there are cute kisses and praises though! petnames used — little thing, darling, sweetling, my dear. you also call him a king instead of a prince and he goes crazy over it ﾉ no proofreading because yolo ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

He snarls from the depths of his lungs, a satisfied grunt ending with a purr when you slobber over his bicep, wimpy like a linen doll. Pretty little thing that wanted to prove that you’re capable of withstanding his ruthless pace and strength; with shiny eyes and subtle smile, you paved your way into his bed with little to no effort, sly and cunning darling with a heart of gold because all you’ve been repeating since the previous day was that you want to take care of him and be nice.

Oh, nice you were, perhaps even too nice, because the snug fit of your soused pussy feels too pleasant for him to let go of you and give you that much-needed break. The small creature you are must be taught what it means to challenge the mighty prince.

“Hush, sweetling. Aren’t you crying too loud for someone who wanted it more than me?”

Your head moves, caressing the muscled forearm until you bite at the pad of his finger, almost painfully hard. He swipes over your puffy lips with his thumb and you willingly let him in, greedily sucking on it and wrapping it with your soft tongue while at it.

The coppery flavour of his sweat tickles your palate. It tastes of nothing, yet when you lick around your teeth afterwards, there is a sudden familiarity to it; something you cannot get enough of. Pleasure dashes through his features as you nip at his knuckle, causing him to hiss.

But there is a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your swollen lips — you are an audacious little thing and he knows that very well. He grabs your cheeks with a single hand, squeezing your face like a piece of dough, making you moan around his thumb and fail at bringing a coherent word out of your throat.

He frowns, expression stern. Without any problem, he moves his finger away from you and pushes your head onto his arm. That short contact with his muscles tingles with pain as he didn’t relax on time and instead of the soft skin, you’re greeted with a bulging mass of power. But it matters not. It gets you high on the reminder of how thin are your chances to overpower him, not even with that amazing gift of your wet and warm pussy.

“If you raise your voice any higher, bite into me… lest you wish to be left alone before I’m even done with the next thrust.”

And indeed you bite him, aiming for his shoulder to rake red marks that match the ruby symbols. He growls once more, yet this time in disappointment of your reluctance; but then he slaps your thigh, which makes you whine and bite him even harder. His fingers find their way to your nape to hold you like a frivolous baby pet; the grip on your neck tightens and loosens from time to time, in sync with the increasing speed of his thrusts.

The cunning strategist he is, he figured out what was necessary to achieve an equilibrium between pleasure and pain, alluring for both of you. All that whimpering and crying got him worried for a second, like he was pushing you beyond your limits; but seeing you with a sore bottom, glistening pussy and spit-covered teeth bruising his skin quickly brought him back to his old ways.

Without warning, he rolls you over onto your side, wraps his arm around your waist and forces you onto his cock once more. The surprise alone almost makes you cum, a shriek leaving your mouth. It’s unusual, he must say — this new position you found yourselves in.

It’s dim inside his chamber, yet the red evening sky piercing through the thin veil of the window brings out the beauty of your teary eyes.

It feels as if you’ve never been happier.

So he holds you, impossibly close, using his hand to caress your ribs while the other explores your pussy — the soaking wet hole that desperately tries to accommodate his thick girth and he enjoys the slight shift in your expression as he teases your clit with temperate taps of his fingers.

All of that fills his lungs with pride, heart with tenderness, eyes with desire, and mind with delight. It’s all an amusement game for him, teasing and loving you until you let out a string of pathetic noises which ultimately leads to you gushing the slick essence around his cock and between your thighs.

“Mydei— ah!”

“Do I still hear the strength to scream my name? Am I not doing enough to leave you breathless? Because this sweet body of yours tells me that it is not yet satiated.” He mouths at your neck, lapping up the glistening sweat pearling on your skin, drowning in your natural scent mixed with the perfume of lust. He inhales deeply, so deeply he feels like he’s breathing from within your guts and although his lungs are about to explode, the bittersweet mixture of your skin grants him enough motivation to angle your hips and manhandle you so he can pound into you with all of his length.

With both of his hands free, he holds you by your wrists, nailing you onto the soft bed, groaning, grunting, growling in a slow crescendo. It is all too much for you — his teeth jabbing your flesh, his thick cock throbbing close to your womb, his fierce embrace of puffed-up sinew and veins and muscles, the stiffness of his body pressed to yours.

Looking so precious, puffing and crying, mewling for mercy but wanting nothing more than to be used by him as he pleases.

The most perfect image to weigh on his mind after this lovely moment together passes; a perfect picture to keep himself warm during the lonely nights.

“My beloved, what would you do without me? Is there anyone else who could do as much to you as I do?” He kisses your cheek, gifting you a moment of calmness.

“Mydei…” you pant out barely audibly through drool and your dry throat, spent entirely but satisfied beyond reason. “Mydeimos, my king…”

Beyond reason that is, because otherwise you would remember that calling him a king wakes an indescribable desire within him.

But you are so little in his arms, so weak compared to him, so completely and utterly filled by him. So when he let go of your wrists to play with your clit, you unconsciously find the strength to turn your head towards him, inviting him for a sweet kiss.

And sweet it is at first — he licks up to your temple and then presses his cheek to your sweat-covered face, sternly pushing you to lay down completely. One last precious cuddle before he straightens up and pulls you by your ass to meet his vicious thrusts; eyes fixated on the pearlescent mess plapping each time he brings his tense pelvis against your butt.

“Look closely at what you have done.” He spreads your thighs, digging his nails into them. His voice turns into a low rumble in his throat, sending chills up and down your spine. With such an overwhelming view, you cannot bring yourself to tear your gaze away from where your bodies connect.

What you have done, he asks. Frustrated and with a painfully hard erection and heavy balls hanging below it, it seems only appropriate to blame it on you, the one who started all of this — your honeyed whispers when nobody was watching, that shy smile spreading across your cheeks when he passed nearby, the swaying of your hips whenever you danced.

Tempting gestures seemed to fill his mind every day, blooming into something far more sinister, lustful. A sly seduction meant to make him crumble and today you made sure to succeed in bringing him into the bedroom.

How often he had been tempted to corner you inside his chamber, squeeze you between the wall and himself, yank those fancy clothes off your curves and devour you inch by inch…

He doesn’t want to admit it, but seeing you already tired births a juxtaposed sense of wanting both ravage and cradle you — and the time comes to stop torturing you. So he turns you again and reaches for the clammy sheets and balls them up under your tummy to keep you in place while he adjusts his legs to kneel on each side of your body. Now he has full control over your bliss-struck self, fucking you as hard as he can.

There is one push that makes your entire body tremble — you spill hot tears from the overwhelming feeling. His thumb touches your earlobe, softly playing with the fine bone structure and gently pulling at the ring he had gifted you a long time ago. As if the ring were a lever for your senses, the sensation rushes to the end of your toes, leaving you sobbing while they curl, releasing all the tension. And then your stomach contracts, knees dig into the mattress, elbows bend awkwardly from the violent tremors which rock you against his firm stature.

The only coherent phrase you chant is his name between the sniffles — just enough for him to bury his length inside your pussy to the very hilt and pull your hips flush against his. The spurting warmth of his seed fills you up gradually while he continues to twitch inside your walls that constrict around him, sucking every last drop out of him. There is a crack in his guttural exhale when you try your best to arch your spine and offer yourself in exchange for everything he gave to you.

Mydeimos slides one palm under your head and lays it upon a pillow. It’s damp and cool, unpleasantly so, unlike his scalding arms which you nuzzle close to immediately, almost subconsciously. Still huffing, he moves the matted strands of hair off of your tear-stained face with the back of his hand, his half-erect shaft remaining nestled in you, keeping the mingled juices from spilling.

And though you feel boneless, there is no strength left to wipe away those droplets which run down to your nose.

“You’ve promised to stop crying as soon as we reach the completion,” he purrs while placing a peck on your eyelids. “Don’t make me worry.”

“It’s joy. I’m just— mmh, too sensitive right n-now to stop. I’m not really crying.” You force a whisper but even that short sentence makes you quiver. “It h-hasn’t even been t-that long…”

His mouth ghosts over yours, savouring the salty taste. You giggle into the kiss, unable to control any of your feelings and reactions. Mydei bites onto your lip in return; harsh punishment for laughing during such an intimate moment. His touch tickles you, especially around your belly where he holds you tightly while lying down beside you.

And when your body convulses again, and he slips out of you with a lewd sigh, he laughs along, murmuring into your ear, “Next time, my dear. Because this little creature demands so much more than it can take at once.” He gives himself a moment to listen to your slowing, still intense heartbeat.

Despite his gentle grip, you still end up squirming and panting in mild pain, yet somehow having fun with your helpless condition — how much love and affection overflows from within you, willing to burn for your prince. Your king.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dancing with Yuutsum

SUMMARY: What would happen if you and your tsum found Vil’s, Idia’s and Malleus’s tsums dancing together in the Courtyard? You discover that Idia-tsum is very clingy with your tsum, Vil-tsum gets upset pretending that it doesn't bother it, and worse, Malleus-tsum is openly jealous.

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit, Vil’s tsum; Idia’s tsum, Malleus’s tsum (+Epel Felmier; Ortho Shroud; Sebek Zigvolt) And Malleus at the end.

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.600 words

COMMENTS: I got this idea while playing Twisted Tsumderland 3. After having written so much about Yuutsum I immediately had an idea to use this twistune.

Maybe the title is not quite accurate because most of it is not about the dance but it was the name of the twistune. 😅

I hope you enjoy ❤️

Cooking with Yuutsum - Azul Ashengrotto, Azul’s tsum; Kalim Al-Asim, Kalim’s tsum (+Floyd Leech, Jamil Viper)

Your tsum seemed curious about its surroundings and you asked it if it wanted to go for a walk so you could show it around the school campus. Your tsum happily and enthusiastically agreed.

During your tour you couldn't help but pass by the Courtyard where you hear music. Curious, you follow it and see Epel, Ortho and Sebek dancing with Idia’s, Vil’s and Malleus’s tsums. Vil and Idia's tablet were also there watching them.

Your Tsum moved happily in your arms and seemed to want to join them, but you arrived when they were already at the end of the dance. Your Tsum felt a little sad and you tried to cheer it up by saying that even if they don't dance more it can still go to greet them. Your tsum does so and jumped out of your arms to hop over to the other tsums.

“It can't be helped.” Vil sighed. “You and my peanut were fine Epel, but the others continued dancing as clumsy as they pleased.”

“Hm? Something is approaching with little hops. Another tsum?” Idia's voice says through the tablet. “Damn, my tsum is really unlucky today. Whee hee hee. I'm so glad I sent my tablet instead of going out in person. Whose will it be this-”

Your tsum finally gets close enough for everyone, including Idia's tablet camera, to see it and it greets everyone with that happy tsum sound.

Before any other person or tsum could greet it back, Idia-tsum jumped straight at your tsum to hug it, but with an expression as if asking for its protection.

“W-W-WHAT IS IT DOING?!” Idia asks in an embarrassed panic.

“I don't know.” Ortho responds, curious. “But it seems like it's nesting in (Y/N)'s tsum. It's actually cute.”

You, already next to your and Idia’s tsums, open your mouth to ask yourself the same thing when the sky suddenly turns dark. You all look up and see storm clouds that appeared out of nowhere when the sky was clear seconds ago.

“My Tsum-liege! What's wrong?”

You all look back at the ground, at Malleus-tsum who is glaring angrily at the two tsums at your feet. A muffled thunder is heard and Idia-tsum only hugs your tsum even tighter in fear, which makes Malleus-tsum even more angry and a lightning bolt strikes nearby.

Your tsum looks at you, nods with its little head to Idia-tsum and then to Malleus-tsum. You understand what it wants to ask you and you bend down to pick up Idia-tsum. It gets scared when it feels hands suddenly catch it and doesn't want to let go of your tsum, until it calms Idia-tsum enough to free itself from its grip. Only when Idia-tsum realizes that you are the one holding it does it stop trying to escape and nestles into your arms in fear so that you can protect it.

Meanwhile your tsum hops to Malleus-tsum. As your tsum gets closer to it the clouds begin to disappear. Until Sebek suddenly gets between the two tsums.

“HALT! No one can approach my tsum-liege without permis-” Another bolt of lightning struck nearby. Sebek looked at Malleus-tsum who was looking at him with displeasure. “AH! MY DEEPEST APOLOGIES MY TSUM-LIEGE!” He bowed deeply. “I was unaware this tsum had your consent.” And he got out of the way.

Malleus-tsum raised its head with dignity and walked the remaining short distance to your tsum. Once in front of your tsum, Malleus-tsum didn't hug it, it waited for your tsum to do it first. And it did, touching its cheek to Malleus-tsum’s and rubbing affectionately. It was a matter of a couple of seconds before the storm clouds dissipated as quickly as they had appeared.

“Hum... Am I the only one who thinks this is some kind of subliminal message or foreshadowing or something?” Idia questions.

“What? You don't think just because these peanuts have physical similarities to us that they are revealing something hidden about us, do you?” Vil counterposes with a sarcastic smile.

“Where are you going?” Epel asks Vil-tsum who started walking down the gray path away from them, with its head held high and his eyes closed as if it was upset but still prideful.

Your tsum looks at it and gives Malleus-tsum a kiss before hoping towards Vil-tsum and stopping right in front of it. Your tsum made a happy tsum sound, but Vil-tsum turned its face away and continued walking after going around your tsum.

“Someone got sulky.” Idia commented in a low voice and chuckled to himself.

Meanwhile, Malleus-tsum came to you, stopped for a moment to look at you, and then suddenly jumped into your arms as well. This startled Idia-tsum again, but Malleus-tsum patted it to let it know that everything was okay, and the two of them snuggled up to you.

Your tsum tried to get closer to Vil-tsum again, but it kept looking away. Until your tsum starts making a sound and a face like it wanted to cry. Only then did Vil-tsum finally look at it, but was still sulking. Your tsum slowly got closer to it and touched its little nose with Vil-tsum's. Seeing that it didn't move away again, your tsum slowly snuggled into it, as if it was apologizing. Vil-tsum finally gives in and accepts the apology, returning the affection.

“Does your tsum have any special powers or is there something else you want to tell us about all of this?” Epel asks you with a mocking smile.

“This is ridiculous.” Vil claps his hands twice and his tsum looks at him. “Let's go, peanut. It's time to go back to Pomefiore. Unlike you, I have a schedule to keep.”

Vil-tsum looked at your tsum, then at you and quickly hopped towards you until it gave one last jump that ended with it on top of your head.

“Are you disobeying me?” Vil seemed to really start to get upset. “After everything you did to my beauty products and my patience, you still have the nerve to-” He was surprised by your tsum suddenly jumping into his arms. He stopped talking to concentrate on catching it.

He looked at your tsum who smiled at him with its little eyes. The corner of his mouth seemed to form a small smile. Then your tsum jumped onto his shoulder.

“And what do you think you're doing?” Vil asked, letting slip in his tone of voice that he was found it a little amusing. Your tsum began to rub its little face against Vil's cheek. “Hey, be careful with the makeup. My products are durable, but if you rub too hard you'll smudge it and get yourself dirty.” Vil picked up your tsum and took it off his shoulder. It looked slightly sad and disappointed, but Vil smiled and kissed it on the forehead and your tsum made that happy sound again.

“Are you still glad that you stayed in your room, big brother?” Ortho asked the tablet. “Your tsum looks very happy in (Y/N)'s arms. And that adorable mini version of them could be snuggling up to you instead of Vil Schoenheit.”

“I had to be delusionally full of myself to think that someone or something would choose me over a hot supermodel.” Idia said in that sullen, giving-up voice.

“Hmm... a little help...?” You asked, holding a tsum in each arm and letting another balance on top of your head.

The only way to make the tsum leave you alone was to promise that you and your tsum would later stop by each of their dorms. That and dance with them before you leave since your tsum was unable to participate in the dance they had done before.

Idia-tsum was the only one who didn't seem very happy with the idea, but you and your tsum managed to convince it, because now it would have the opportunity to dance with you and your tsum. But even so, it only did that for the two of you.

All the tsums wanted to dance with you and/or your tsum, besides Epel, Ortho and Sebek (although the latter didn't want to admit it) also wanted to dance with your tsum. So you ended up doing a dance with partner swapping so everyone has the opportunity to dance with both of you.

After the dance the hardest one to convince to leave you and your tsum to continue the walk was Idia-tsum. It didn't want to be separated from the two of you, especially your tsum.

“Come on Tsum-shi, this is starting to get cringe.” Idia asked it.

The other two tsums went their separate ways but not without giving you and your tsum one last kiss on the cheek. Or what resembled a kiss since tsums don't have mouths.

After leaving with his tsum-liege and meeting Malleus again, Sebek told him that your tsum had come to greet his tsum and the others. If he doesn't tell many details of what happened, Malleus will only feel sorry for having been separated from them and not being able to be present at that moment, but he will be happy that his tsum could meet yours.

But if Sebek makes the mistake of telling him about your tsum's interactions with the other tsums and especially with Vil, he'll have to apologize so to stop the thunderstorm that had begun to form above them.

As you would visit them in Diasomnia later, he waited to see the interaction between your tsums and satisfied with what he witnessed he did not touch on the subject of what happened with Vil and the other tsums.

More Twisted Tsumderland content:

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 2 (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

Yuutsum 3 (Ace; Trey; Ruggie; Jamil; Vil; Idia; Malleus; Silver)

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

LINGER

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: a sweet, introverted bartender and obx’s very own troubled golden boy share an unspoken connection—until jealousy, misunderstandings, and unspoken feelings finally push them to confront the truth.

based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy anon, and i hope it’s what you asked for :)

WARNINGS: brief angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, topper being annoying, jealous!rafe, jj being flirty with reader😝, “love” confessions, rafe not feeling good enough, mutual pining, but a cute fluffy end !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 3.8k (i got REALLY carried away !!)

THIRD PERSON +

The hum of conversation filled the bar on Figure 8, mingling with the low beats of a classic rock playlist. It was a quieter night than usual, with only a handful of regulars clustered at tables and the occasional newcomer drifting in. Y/N stood behind the bar, wiping down the polished surface even though it hardly needed cleaning. She wasn't one to sit idle, and, truth be told, she was grateful for something to do.

The nights when Rafe Cameron came in made it nearly impossible for her to relax.

He was seated at the far end of the bar now, nursing a drink he didn't seem all that interested in. His sharp jawline caught the low light, the curve of his lips tugged into what might have been a smirk—or perhaps he was just lost in thought. Either way, Y/N found it difficult not to glance at him every few minutes, only to whip her gaze away whenever his blue eyes threatened to meet hers.

She knew his routine well by now. Rafe always came in alone, usually later in the evening when the crowd had thinned out. He was polite—surprisingly so—but there was something about him that felt dangerous, like a storm rolling in just beyond the horizon. The other bartenders whispered about him when he wasn't around, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to the gossip. She only knew what she saw: a man who lingered a little too long, who seemed to light up when she stumbled through small talk, who always tipped well even though she was sure she got his drink orders wrong half the time.

Tonight, as she fiddled nervously with the sleeves of her long sleeve tee, she could feel his eyes on her. She braced herself, stealing one more calming breath before walking toward his side of the bar.

"Need a refill, Rafe?" she asked, her voice barely louder than the music.

Rafe looked up, his expression softening the moment he saw her. "Yeah," he said, pushing his glass forward. "Same thing as before, please."

Y/N nodded quickly and reached for the bottle of bourbon, her hands trembling slightly as she poured. She could feel his gaze burning into her, the weight of his attention making her heart pound in her chest.

"Long night?" he asked suddenly, his voice smooth but laced with something almost boyish.

"Hmm?" she mumbled, nearly sloshing the liquor over the rim of his glass. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sort of."

"You're always working so hard," he remarked, leaning forward just a fraction. "Not sure I've ever seen you take a break."

Her cheeks burned as she scrambled to wipe up a stray droplet of bourbon with the edge of her towel. "It's not so bad," she said quickly. "I don't mind staying busy."

"You're good at it," he said, and there was an odd sincerity in his voice that made her stomach twist. "The bartending, I mean. You've got this... thing. Like, you make people feel comfortable."

Y/N froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren't something she received often, and especially not from someone like Rafe Cameron. She fumbled with the garnish tray, pulling out a cherry and dropping it into his glass with shaking fingers.

"Thanks," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

He smiled then—a real, crooked smile that softened the edges of his typically hard demeanor. "I mean it," he said, taking the drink from her. His fingers brushed hers, just barely, but the contact sent a shiver down her spine. "You're easy to talk to, even when you're... y'know, kind of shy."

She blinked at him, unsure whether to laugh or apologise. Instead, she ducked her head, the warm feeling in her cheeks creeping up to her ears. "I, uh... I'm not great at talking. Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, his voice low and warm. "It's cute."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she was sure she'd imagined the way he looked at her—like she was something worth noticing. But before she could respond, the sound of someone calling her name from the other end of the bar jolted her back to reality. She muttered a quick excuse and darted away, her heart racing as she busied herself with another customer.

Rafe watched her go, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He hated how his chest tightened whenever she was near, how he felt like a nervous wreck every time she so much as glanced in his direction. She was sweet, kind-hearted, and far too good for someone like him.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself from lingering.

An hour later, the bar had grown busier, and Y/N found herself working harder to avoid Rafe's gaze. She didn't notice the arrival of Topper Thornton until his voice boomed across the room, drawing Rafe's attention.

Rafe liked watching her. She was different from anyone else he knew—a little clumsy, a little shy, but always kind. Too kind, he thought, for someone like him. She didn't belong to the same cutthroat world of backstabbing and manipulation that he did. She was sunshine, soft and untouchable, and every time he caught himself staring too long, he felt like a thief.

He didn't deserve her.

"Yo, Rafe!" Topper's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and grating. Rafe turned to see his best friend approaching with a blonde girl in tow. She was pretty in a polished, effortless way—designer dress, manicured nails, a confident smile that screamed old money.

"This is Whitney," Topper announced, nudging Rafe's shoulder. "Told her you've been a free agent too long."

Rafe forced a tight smile, shaking Whitney's hand. She was pretty, sure. She had that typical Kook look, all high cheekbones and cold elegance. But she didn't spark anything in him. Not like Y/N did.

"Hi," Whitney said, her voice lilting with practiced charm.

"Hey," Rafe replied, stealing a glance back at the bar.

Y/N had seen it all—the introduction, the way Whitney tilted her head flirtatiously, the way Topper patted Rafe on the back like he'd just scored a win. Her heart sank, and she turned her attention to cleaning the counter with exaggerated focus, hoping to block out the scene playing out before her.

It was stupid to feel this way. She and Rafe weren't anything, not really. He was just a customer, and she was the awkward bartender who could barely string a sentence together around him. But seeing him with someone else, someone who seemed to fit so effortlessly into his world, made her chest tighten painfully.

When Rafe returned to the bar for another drink, Y/N kept her head down. Her usual nervous warmth was replaced by a cold efficiency as she mixed his order.

"Here," she said curtly, sliding the glass across the counter without looking up.

Rafe frowned. "You okay?"

"Fine."

He hesitated, searching her face for something—anything—that would explain the sudden change in her demeanor. But she didn't give him the chance to linger this time, quickly turning away to serve another customer.

Rafe's stomach twisted. She was shutting him out, and he didn't know why. Was it Whitney? Did she think he liked her? He didn't, not in the way he liked Y/N. But how could he explain that without sounding like an idiot? What was he even thinking? They weren't even together.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of frustration and longing. Whitney clung to Rafe's arm, laughing at his half-hearted jokes and batting her lashes at him, but he barely noticed. His focus was on Y/N—on the way she avoided his gaze, the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced politeness in her voice whenever he ordered another drink.

She hated him now. He was sure of it.

"Rafe, are you even listening?" Whitney's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Yeah," he lied, forcing a tight smile.

But he wasn't. His mind was with Y/N, replaying every moment of the night, searching for the moment he'd ruined everything.

—

The crisp night air nipped at Y/N's skin as she stepped out of the bar, her breath curling in wispy clouds before vanishing into the dark. The quiet of the island after hours was always a comfort, the distant crash of waves on the shore a reminder of home. But tonight, no amount of serene surroundings could quiet the ache twisting in her chest.

She tightened her coat around her as she walked to her car, her mind replaying the evening in an endless loop. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Rafe Cameron in the bar. She'd grown used to his presence, even come to anticipate it with a nervous sort of excitement. But tonight was different. Tonight, he hadn't been alone.

Y/N hated the way her stomach had dropped at the sight of the blonde girl—Whitney, as she'd overheard Topper call her—clinging to Rafe's arm, her perfectly manicured nails resting on his bicep like she had every right to be there. The girl was beautiful, confident, and poised in a way Y/N knew she could never be. She was everything a Kook girl was supposed to be, and everything Y/N wasn't.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she drove home, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement doing little to soothe her. She felt ridiculous, stupid even, for letting herself feel this way. Rafe wasn't hers, and he never would be. He was just a guy who came into the bar, a customer she barely knew beyond the surface. But that wasn't entirely true, was it?

The way he lingered at the bar, the way he seemed to soften when he talked to her, the way he looked at her like she was someone worth noticing—it had all felt so real. She couldn't help but replay every stolen glance, every hesitant smile, every compliment he'd offered in his quiet, almost bashful way.

But now, all of that felt like a cruel joke. Maybe she'd imagined it, read too much into his kindness because she wanted to believe it was something more. Maybe he'd been looking at her out of boredom, not interest. Maybe he had never thought about her at all.

Her throat tightened, and she blinked hard against the sting of tears. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how easily her emotions betrayed her. She had always prided herself on being independent, on not needing anyone's validation. But Rafe Cameron had slipped past her defenses, and now she was paying the price for letting him linger in her thoughts and feelings.

By the time she reached her small, cozy house, the weight in her chest had settled into a dull ache. She dropped her keys on the counter and sank onto the couch, her thoughts still swirling like a storm. Her parents had always supported her decision to work, even though she could have easily coasted on their wealth like so many other Kooks. She liked earning her own way, proving to herself and the world that she was more than just another privileged kid on Figure 8.

But tonight, she felt small and insignificant, like the world was reminding her that she didn't belong in Rafe Cameron's orbit. He was a hurricane, magnetic and destructive, and she was just a quiet breeze, unnoticed and easily forgotten.

And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him.

—

The door to Rafe's house closed with a heavy thud, and he let out a long, exhausted sigh as he leaned against it. The evening had been a disaster, but it wasn't because of Whitney. In fact, he could hardly remember a single thing she'd said. His mind had been elsewhere all night, fixated on the one thing he couldn't stop thinking about: Y/N.

He pushed off the door and made his way to the kitchen, the silence of the house pressing in around him. His family was used to him coming and going at odd hours, and tonight he was grateful for the solitude. Pouring himself a glass of water, he leaned against the counter, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

Y/N had been different tonight, and it had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. She'd barely looked at him, her usual shy, awkward charm replaced by a cold formality that felt like a punch to the gut. He replayed the moment over and over, searching for the exact second he must have done something to upset her.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realised it wasn't just her behavior that had unsettled him—it was how much it had affected him.

He liked her. He really, truly liked her. It was a quiet, consuming sort of affection that had taken him by surprise. At first, it had been easy to dismiss—the way his chest tightened when she smiled, the way his heart raced whenever their fingers brushed. But now, after months of stolen moments and lingering glances, he couldn't deny it anymore.

He thought about the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way her cheeks flushed whenever he managed to fluster her. She was kind in a way that felt rare, genuine in a way that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't beyond redemption.

But tonight, all of that had felt out of reach.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Whitney had been a mistake—a distraction Topper had pushed on him that he never should have agreed to. She'd been all wrong from the start, her shallow questions and empty compliments grating on his nerves. She didn't care about him; she cared about the idea of him, the money and status he represented.

But Y/N... Y/N had never treated him like that. She didn't care about his family name or his bank account. She didn't try to impress him or play games. She was just herself, awkward and sweet and so genuine it made his chest ache.

And now, he might have ruined everything.

The thought made his stomach churn. He didn't know how to fix it, didn't even know where to start. All he knew was that he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him the way she had tonight—like he was a stranger, someone unworthy of her time.

Rafe set the empty glass down on the counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't used to feeling this way, vulnerable and uncertain. But Y/N had a way of unraveling him, of making him question everything he thought he knew about himself.

He didn't deserve her, not really. But he couldn't stop himself from wanting her anyway.

As he climbed the stairs to his room, his thoughts were filled with her—her shy smiles, her quiet laughter, the way she made him feel like maybe he could be something more than the mess he'd become. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure: Y/N had changed him, and there was no going back.

—

Four days. Four endless, suffocating days.

Rafe Cameron had returned to the bar every single night since that dreadful evening, but each time, there was no sign of Y/N. It didn't sit right with him. The place didn't feel the same without her. She wasn't just another bartender—she was the lifeblood of the space, her sweet, slightly awkward energy drawing customers like moths to a flame.

But now, the warmth was gone. Without her behind the counter, it was just another dimly lit establishment, all noise and no soul.

By the fourth night, his restlessness was unbearable. He stepped into the bar, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. This time, she was there. Relief flooded him so quickly it was almost dizzying.

And then he saw who she was talking to.

Y/N was behind the bar, giggling softly as she leaned in closer to none other than JJ Maybank. Her hair slipped forward as she laughed, and she quickly brushed it out of her face, a move Rafe had seen her do countless times. It always left him breathless.

But this time, the sight filled him with a searing, unfamiliar rage.

What the hell was Maybank doing here? This was Kook territory, not The Cut. And worse, what was he doing talking to Y/N like that? The way JJ was leaning against the bar, all easy charm and flirtation, made Rafe's blood boil. He clenched his jaw so hard it ached as he watched JJ flash her one of his trademark smirks.

Rafe's fists tightened at his sides as he stalked over.

The second Y/N noticed him, her expression changed. The soft laughter disappeared, replaced by something guarded and uncertain. The shift stung more than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't here to dwell on it. His eyes flicked to JJ, narrowing with disdain.

"Well, if it isn't JJ Maybank," Rafe drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Didn't think you'd ever cross the bridge willingly."

JJ turned, unfazed, and smirked. "What can I say? The service here's worth it." He shot Y/N a wink, which only made Rafe's temper flare.

"Sure it is," Rafe muttered darkly, his gaze never leaving JJ. The air between them crackled with tension, but eventually, JJ shrugged and pushed off the bar.

"I'll catch you later, Y/N," JJ said casually before heading toward the group of Pogues gathered in the corner.

Rafe watched him go, his shoulders rigid with suppressed anger. When he finally turned back to Y/N, her expression was unreadable.

"Something I can get you, Cameron?" she asked coolly, her usual warmth noticeably absent.

Rafe hesitated for a moment before leaning on the bar. "Whiskey, neat—Please."

As she poured his drink, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "What was he even doing here?"

Y/N glanced up briefly, her expression neutral. "JJ's been here before. He's not exactly banned from Kookland, you know."

Rafe scoffed but didn't press the matter further. The silence between them was suffocating, and it took everything in him to break it.

"How's it been?" he asked, his voice softer now. "I uh, haven't seen ya' around."

She gave him a quick, noncommittal shrug. "Been busy."

The coldness in her tone stung, but Rafe couldn't let it go. He needed to understand what had changed.

"Look," he began, his voice low, "I feel like maybe I upset you the other night. Was it... Was it the girl?"

Y/N froze for a split second before resuming her task, but Rafe didn't miss the way her jaw tightened.

"How was your date, by the way?" she asked, her tone deceptively light.

"It wasn't a date," Rafe said quickly, his words tumbling over each other.

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head as she turned to face him. "Rafe, come on. It very clearly was. She was practically glued to your side."

"It wasn't," he insisted, his voice firm. "Topper set it up. I didn't even want to go, and I haven't spoken to her since." He hesitated, his blue eyes meeting hers. "She's not really my type."

Something in his tone gave Y/N pause, but she was too hurt to let it show. "Right," she said flatly.

Before she could say more, Rafe's next question caught her off guard. "Are you seeing JJ?"

Her brows furrowed as she stared at him. "What?"

"Are you seeing him?" he repeated, his voice tense.

"No," she said slowly, setting her hands on the counter. "But he did ask me on a date."

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, and before he could think better of it, he blurted out, "Don't go."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms. "Why not?"

Rafe faltered, the confidence he'd managed to muster evaporating under her sharp gaze. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

"Exactly," she said bitterly, turning away to busy herself with a drink. "That's what I thought."

"Wait," Rafe said suddenly, his voice rough with desperation. "It's not— I..." He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bar. "I like you, okay?"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw.

Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Rafe looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "I've been nervous to tell you because... because you're too good for me. You're sweet and kind, and I'm—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I'm not. I've got a lot of darkness, Y/N. I don't want to drag you into it or hurt you."

His voice cracked slightly, and he finally looked up, his blue eyes filled with vulnerability. "I don't want to break you."

For a moment, Y/N didn't say anything, the weight of his confession sinking in. Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "You're not going to break me, Rafe."

His brows furrowed as he searched her face for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was quiet resolve.

"I can see the heart in you," she continued, her gaze steady. "You're different when you're around me, and I know it's real. You don't have to be scared of that."

Rafe's shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing over him like a wave.

"And for the record," she added with a small smile, "I'm not interested in JJ. He's been trying to win me over for a while now, but... it was never going to happen."

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Good," he muttered, his voice low.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her confidence returning. "Do you have something to ask me, Rafe Cameron?" she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Will you go out with me?"

Y/N's smile widened as she nodded. "Yeah. I will."

The tension between them melted away, replaced by a quiet understanding that felt both new and inevitable. For the first time in days, Rafe felt like he could breathe again, and Y/N couldn't stop the warmth blooming in her chest.

As the bar buzzed around them, they stood in their own little world, the first fragile threads of something real beginning to weave between them.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i hope you enjoyed this anon !! i had sm fun writing this and thought it was a super sweet plot/concept so thank you for trusting me with it <3

still working my way through requests whilst also working on my little drew starkey mini series (sports car) so please be patient w me my loves :) but also still request any ideas you have ofc !!

[cinnamonest]

Thinking again about forced cultural assimilation, particularly linguistic… snatched up by some foreign visitor to your homeland, dragged far far away and thrust into an environment where you can't understand a single thing.

You don't understand anything said around you — all the others in this place you're kept in (underlings, servants, partners in crime, whatever they are) are constantly talking to each other and to your captor, saying so much, yet it's all meaningless babble to you, a frustrating barrier of confusion and unknown that makes you feel on edge, a constant state of discomfort and unease.

You know they're talking about you, given the glances your way, but you don't know exactly what. It's a very discomforting feeling.

It's actually quite endearing, the way you bite your lip and cling to him out of perpetual bewilderment and fear whenever you're brought out of your room… still, at the moment, he's forced to resort to your language to communicate with you, which he doesn't like.

But that's okay. You'll learn.

It's not like you have a choice. Even if you're stubborn and noncompliant at first, it's no big deal. He just won't respond to anything you say until you say it in the correct tongue. It's adorable, watching you get so frustrated at the silent treatment, your stubbornness slowly breaking down until you finally give in and start making a very clumsy, stuttering attempt to communicate correctly.

But it's only fair that you do try. You know, if you're going to be living in a foreign land for the rest of your life, you have a responsibility to learn… okay, sure, you didn't exactly choose to live here, but that's not really relevant.

So you'll learn. He'll help you, of course, aren't you grateful? He went out of his way to buy learning books to get you started. And even if you're too stubborn to utilize them at first, a couple of hours in isolation with nothing else to do will essentially force you into at least looking them over, even if merely out of boredom. He'll set it up as a reward system — if you study a few hours a day, you get to do something else. Any other sort of activity or stimulation is withheld from you, kept behind a barrier, forcing you into compliance.

But that's not enough, you need direct practice. So he'll integrate learning into your daily life.

If you want to get dressed and not have to walk outside naked — and you could, don't think he won’t do it, it would be so funny watching all those other men drool and crowd around you, make you the center of attention to all their hollering and jesting — you'll just have to ask for your clothes piece by piece.

P-please, give me the… the…

And he just sits there and holds your shirt so close yet just our of your grasp, patiently waiting for you to remember. You've gone over it several times now. But even if you give up, he'll tell you again — you need to repeat it several times, though, before you finally get it.

Meal time is also turned into a learning ordeal — you're made to ask for a plate, for water, to have salt or anything passed over to you, all perfectly, all of which is kept out of your reach until you do so.

You hate the smile he always gives you, the little pats on the head and praise for saying things correctly. It feels mocking, demeaning, more than anything — and you're fairly certain he intends it that way.

Because it's not like he hesitates to make fun of you either — snickering with a hand over his mouth when you say certain words, repeating what you said with a mock exaggeration of your accent as if it's peak comedy. But hey, don't pout like that. It's just cute, that's all… and a little bit of revenge, if you recall, you once teased him the same way, back when he was just some foreigner visiting your land that you happened to become acquainted with. How the tables turn, yeah?

At night, you're held firmly in place — a normally sweet gesture, arms wrapped around you, yet a grip so tight it ruins any semblance of affection.

What did you do today?

You stumble out some words. You mess up the past tense. You're made to say it over again.

How do you feel today?

He's decided ‘good’ alone is no longer an adequate answer, so you have to elaborate, be more detailed.

You'll answer questions on things like weather, recall what they said on the news and such. Moreover, you can't neglect those reading and writing skills, so you'll have to comply with him on exercises for that too. He even went out of his way to get some newspapers for you to read aloud to him for practice. You should be grateful he's so nice.

Other times, it's not so nice.

When you've done something wrong, been bad, even then, you're not exempt from it being turned into a lesson. Bent over his knee, skirt pulled up to the end of your spine, shaking and grinding your teeth. At least you have the dignity of being behind closed doors, but that's not much.

What did you do?

As it turns out, panic is not conducive to coherent sentences. Your mind goes blank, you struggle to summon any words at all, much less ones you have to mentally structure before you speak. Harsher swats — you squeal, squirm, try to pull yourself forward, just for the hand on your shoulder to jerk you back into place — indicate a mistake. You'll have to try again, and it will continue until you get it correct — and then some more, for whatever you did in the first place.

What do you say?

You're sniffling and trembling, but at least that one is easy, a phrase so often uttered it's permanently etched into your brain.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

There's a few such phrases that come to you very naturally, without any real effort to recall, but you're not proud of it. No, you resent, you loathe, how deeply your vocabulary is entrenched in filth, simply due to how frequently you're made to speak such words.

You still struggle to remember the words for door or apple or lamp, but you know how to say cock and cum and fuck without the slightest pause.

You had to stutter and stumble over trying to ask one of the others ‘excuse me, what time is it?’, but you can perfectly recite the words you say every single night — please let me cum, please go harder, it feels so good.

Likewise, you begin to better make out the words he mutters and growls into your ear every night — you wish you didn't, wish you couldn't understand the humiliating words about how much he enjoys violating you, loves watching you fight and squirm, loves seeing you struggle.

Unfortunately, you also begin to understand what the others around you are saying all the time. When you first came, you didn't understand a word, but still felt the burning knot in your stomach of embarrassment, knowing whatever it was was clearly derogatory and humiliating, with the way they looked at you, the gestures and cheeky grins.

You wish you still didn't understand, that you couldn't make out the crude, vulgar words. Comments about your body, your thighs and your chest, all the joking comments about how they don't blame your captor for abducting you, after all, I'd want to be inside of that too.

But unfortunately, those vulgar comments are pretty much all your grasp from them — those are, after all, spoken at moments of rest, when they're all just lounging around, each word more drawn out. When you're forced to sit there through more serious discussions (clinging to your captor’s arm like a lifeline, the way he makes you feel safe from the scary men he associates with), they just speak so damn fast that you can't catch more than the occasional single word or two that you recognize, the rest a jumbled haze of meaningless sounds.

It's all so frustrating, so humiliating, you hate the dependency, you hate the power exchange that both of you are mutually aware of, yet left unspoken — the fact that you're the one forced into his way of life. The words themselves are more than words, more than their literal meanings — each one serves as a little reminder that you're owned, each is another way of forcing submission out of you. It makes you angry, makes you bitter, makes you resentful.

One day, that resentment drives you over the edge, all of a sudden, as you're being chastised and reprimanded for whatever misbehavior you've engaged in. Your fists clench and your face contorts with fury and you break.

A slurry of heated, snarling words come pouring out of your mouth �� words in your tongue, familiar words. Saying that you won't do what he said to, that he doesn't get to tell you what to do, saying that you're sick of it all, saying he doesn't scare you, saying you'll do what you want. Vulgarity and profanity spills out, calling him every nasty word you can think of.

It's so soothing to feel words pour out so naturally, not having to pause to think about them. It's cathartic, you feel your heart pounding with rage and frustration and relief—

—and then your blood runs cold when you turn your head and see him looking back at you. Silent, eyes narrowed, quietly letting you go on and on and dig the hole deeper. He only smiles when your words come to a halt.

What's wrong?

Now you're so quiet, standing there shaking. You’re pulling your clasped hands up to your chest and shrinking back, your eyes start to water… but didn't you just say you're not scared of him? Why are you stepping backwards now?

And you say those words again —

I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

It’s so satisfying that you immediately switch back, after such a heated outburst. Deep down, even if you're still too proud to accept it, you really do know your place. You're still repeating it over and over as you're dragged by the hair back to your room, as if apologies will save you from whatever he's going to do to you.

But really, he kind of hopes you never master the language in full. How scared you are all the time, surrounded by a world that you struggle to make sense of, the way you're forced to depend on him so much… admittedly, it's a very satisfying feeling. And hey, the accent is cute, too.

[xazse]

Hi!! I love your work. I'd like to make a request, Satoru x Innocent!reader, if you have time you can do it, and if not, then I'll understand. :)

Tw: Satoru x innocent!reader + smut + fem!reader + corruption kink + pussyeating + not a lot of smut I’m sorry! I was just rushed to get this out so you didn’t think I was ignoring you!

Notes: HI IM SO HAPPY YOU LOVE MY WORKS!! (Sorry this took so long I was thinking of a good prompt but here you go I hope you like it!!) and if you didn’t want fem!reader just tell me and I’ll revise it!

I absolutely love the idea of you having some vague information on sex but not a lot, too busy plopping your face in books almost all your life, romance and stuff didn’t interest you when you had parents who wanted you to solely think about school and college.

And when you get to college you’re completely dumbstruck by the relationships around you. Everyone around you seems to have someone special to them but here you are too busy for things like that. Sex handn’t ever crossed your mind that is until you meet Satoru the first ever boy to show actual interest in you, he’s as sweet as they come, clingy but very funny.

A year with him has happened so fast and you’ve felt nothing but bliss with him, he’s truly one of a kind.

Satoru and you are relaxing on your fluffy bed, he’s lounging on your body like he usually is, always needing to be close to you regardless of where you are. But today he’s extra touchy with you, feeling up your waist and burying himself deep in your tummy which in turn makes you giggle.

Satoru is going quite mad, he doesn’t know how many times he can see you in those short shorts and tiny camisole for him to finally pin you down and fuck you, everytime he hints at intimacy you just give him the most confused look ever, you don’t pick up on his words and that also drives him crazy. Crazy in a good way. He loves the fact that you don’t even seem the least bit interested in sex, he wants to be the one to take your virginity and him only.

And now feels like the perfect moment, he starts kissing up the column of your neck and you surprisingly don’t pull away though you do sit still as a board whilst his lips wander all over your neck, leaving deep purple hued marks all over.

That night Satoru has a hard time controlling himself with you, he knows he’s supposed to ease you into sex but the way his fingers can barely filt pass your tight hole has him groaning out loud, every hitch of your breath from the pain makes his cock throb. He’s getting off to the simple fact that you’ve never had anything in there.

He pulses his fingers in and out of you in a repeated motion, spurring on those cute whines that slip out nonstop.

He spreads you open further on your bed so he can get the full view of your beautiful cunt, your little clit throbs for attention and he most definitely gives it that attention, the nub twitches nervously every sift of his fingers against it.

He licks his first taste of you directly up the middle of your pussy, dragging against your folds as you buck against his hips. That little action elicits that much from you? Oh Satoru is going to have so much fun ruining you.

You take his cock like a champ, he whispers that bit in your ear while you’re fucked out. It was an extremely tight fit even with all the prep he gave you but nonetheless Satoru fought agaisnt the tight ring of your pussy, he has you cum around him multiple times that night.

[seitmai]

Oh man so many thoughts (very late but I'm trying🥲)

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?" "We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

Nugget Part Deux, that's so cute🥹🥰

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?" "No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

I truly get the frustration...

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it." "I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

A family group hug is what she needed in that moment 🫶🏻

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

This is your chance!!

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

Not them being called out on the surprise lmao

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?" "We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh. His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

Ahaha the panic

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

This cracked me up haha

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

🥺🥺🥺

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time. He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

Right answer on Bradley's part

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway. "What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?" "Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm. "I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

🥰🥰🥰

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

He is obsessed 🥰

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. "You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

🤭🤭🤭

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot. Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!" Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

Fucking Indigo

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

Jake is not wrong, he is so whipped

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

----------------------------

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time. 

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay." 

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled. 

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

-------------------------------

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand. 

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. 

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

------------------------------

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

-----------------------------

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[trustmypoison]

SVT when you're on your period

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘this might be out of the blue, but can you do which svt members would prefer an emotional partner or angry partner on their period (mother nature has called me again and my hormones are all over the place i honestly need peace) btw no need to do this if you aren't comfortable 😅’

TW/CW: period talk. discussions of being emotional, angry, in pain, and emotional.

A/N: the way I can write this based on my past week. I had the period from hell and have been a nightmare to my partner. 😅 Periods can look very different for everyone, so this just addresses the common symptoms that can come with it. 

An expert with an emotional partner - Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Vernon

They are just such calm and reassuring personalities in my mind, that if you get emotional about something that would normally not upset you, he’s just hugging you until you feel a little better. I think these guys would do this in such a way that in validates you and doesn’t make you feel irrational, even though you might feel the need to apologize for crying yet again. And he’s quick to learn what you might be emotional about too. Like, he’s saving that cute cat video for next week. 

An expert with an angry partner - Joshua, Jun, Minghao, Chan

Absolutely does not react to your anger. Don’t get me wrong, he addresses it and validates it. And if it’s something he did wrong, he’ll genuinely apologize. But he will not let you pick a fight about anything. Just like the first group, they’re exceedingly calm because they know it’s temporary and a lot of your anger is only boiling over because you don’t feel good. He’s sympathetic to the fact that you’re just easily frustrated right now.

An expert with a partner who has a lot of pain - Jeonghan, Woozi, Seungkwan

The house never seems to run out of whatever sanitary products you need. There is a backup heating bad in the closet, just in case. Your favorite comfy clothes, like sweats and a hoodie, are always clean for that week. Whatever pain killers you prefer are always in the cabinet. And they have absolutely no problem with having a quiet week at home while not at work, piled on the couch so you can focus on feeling better. I kind of picture that you aren’t moving a muscle if it’s something he can do for you.

An expert with a partner who has some serious food cravings - Hoshi, DK, Mingyu

The change in hormones can wreak havoc on your appetite. If you’re anything like me, you crave stuff that you normally never want. And it only takes a few periods with you for him to start making note of those things that you prefer during that time. If you like sweets, he makes a trip to your favorite bakery. If you want carb-heavy things, he’s perfected a pasta recipe, complete with your favorite bread, and he’s made enough to get you through most of the week. Whatever your preference is, he’ll make it happen. 

[shomatoriashi]

01/28/25; 03:25pm

sung jinwoo x fem.reader

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

thinking about sung jinwoo who gets jealous easily.

and truly, he can’t help it-

not when he has such a cute lover like you.

you, who truly held his heart and soul within the very palm of your hands.

you, who loved him even when he was known as the weakest in the world.

you, who he would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

with his duties as a hunter out of the way, he steps out of his guild’s building with a bounce in his step. all too eager to see you again, he decides to stop by the nearest florist to purchase a lovely bouquet. he chooses each bloom meticulously, knowing to add only your favorites before eventually making it into a rainbow bouquet.

carrying the bouquet by his side, he heads to your apartment complex with a bounce in his step, only to stop a few feet away when he sees your familiar figure conversing with another man, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder.

his once calm, silver gaze quickly morphs into that of a startling violet hue, hands gripping at the stems of the bouquet when he hears your laughter echo throughout the area. red hot fury was felt coursing through the monarch’s veins when he takes quick strides toward you, standing protectively beside you. feeling his overwhelming presence makes you smile up at him, “jinwoo, hi! i was just catching up with-“

he barely heard the name you uttered, wrapping his arms protectively around your waist while gingerly placing the bouquet within your arms. he glares at your former classmate, nearly smirking when he shies away from jinwoo’s intense gaze.

“ah, i should get going.”

“good.” jinwoo nearly snarls at the other man, taking a hold of your hand to lead you back within the safety of your apartment. you gasp, clinging to his arm while making sure that you didn’t drop the bouquet.

“jinwoo, what’s gotten into you?” he remains silent, arriving at your apartment while using your spare key to unlock it. the moment he manages to put you back inside, he slams the door shut and pins you against it. “who did he think he was, getting so close to you like that?”

jinwoo’s words were low, threatening as his eyes continue to glow a violent lilac. you gently frame his face with your two hands, allowing the now ruined bouquet to fall to the ground. “we were just talking about our high school days. he was just an old friend, he means nothing to-“

yet the rest of your words got lost within a searing kiss, making you gasp when jinwoo wraps his arms tightly around your waist. despite your reassurances and how you couldn’t help that you had a past with him, jinwoo’s envy had long since gripped at his heart. those tendrils of darkness that always flared so dangerously when it came to you finally took over his senses-

and the shadow monarch wanted to do nothing more than to erase that bastard’s touch.

he swallows the rest of your words, feeling triumphant when he hears your soft moans against his lips. with your bed in sight, jinwoo gently lays you back against the plush mattress, glowing eyes dimming down slightly as it was taken over by a spreading darkness (evident of his desire for you).

jinwoo takes a hold of your skirt, sliding it down the length of your legs as his breathing hitches at the sight of your laced panties. he meets your shy gaze, hands already gripping at your shirt as he slowly lifts the fabric off of you, letting out a soft groan of your name when he sees the same, lacy material covering your chest. “beautiful, and you’re all mine.”

he expertly unclasps your bra, leaving your chest bare for him before settling himself between your legs. he grips at the fat of your thighs before dragging your panties down with his teeth, eyes flashing with hunger the moment he could see your pretty little center.

“j-jinwoo, don’t look…! it’s embarrassing.”

he chuckles at your sudden shyness, taking off his dress shirt while leaving his upper body bare for your eyes to feast upon. he could see the heat already settled against your cheek based on the awed expression on your face. “jinwoo…” you trail off while saying his name, allowing jinwoo to descend upon you as he latches on to one of your breasts.

placing a perky nipple within his mouth, he gives the hardened bud a languid lick, allowing his large hands to travel down to the spot between your legs. he delves his fingertips within your slick folds, earning a desperate moan from you as he pumps his digits in and out of your core. basking in your soft mewls of his name, he plays your body like an instrument, drawing out your gasps and moans as he felt each and every sound travel straight down to his cock.

a prominent tent was seen against his dress pants, and when he heard the slick, squelching sounds of your walls trying desperately to take him in-

jinwoo lost the last bit of self control that he had.

removing himself from your aching breasts, he gives your nipple one last squeeze before shedding off his pants and boxers. gripping at your ankles, he slides your body closer to his, allowing the tip of his cock to trace at the outer lips of your folds.

“you’re mine… and i’m going to prove it to you right now.” those last words served as your final warning when jinwoo pushes his cock within your heat, basking in your broken moans of his name before setting an almost frightening pace, ensuring that his cock reached parts of you that you had never even felt before-

taking you over and over again throughout the night while making sure that the only thing you could think of-

the only thing you could feel-

was him and him alone.

end notes: hhhh it’s been a while since i wrote for my favorite shadow monarch, so have this unedited thirst post ;;

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[witherby]

I think a cute fic would be Alfred reading Punchline to sleep after a nightmare.

-📝

Also, LOVE EVERYTHING YOU E DONE :}

You got it! And thank you!!

Punchline - Scattered Nighttime

⚠️ Content warning: Nightmares, the Joker abuses his daughter, description of injuries ⚠️

Masterlist is Here!

There's something very strange about seeing the reason why you can't move your hand properly, despite not feeling it.

Popsy's laughing. You've pleased him, you've entertained him, and the only price you had to pay was your hand getting smashed by a pipe. It looks like a black and blue pancake, the palm flatter than normal and several fingers badly misshapen.

You turn your hand over, admiring the front and back, and try to flex the fingers. They twitch and bend at an angle that isn't normally possible. There's an odd pressure between the joints you instinctively understand is wrong. You wonder if you have enough ribbon to tie the digits back into the correct shape so that they heal into something usable again.

"What, you don't think that's funny?" Your father asks, something thin and dangerous in his tone. You immediately snap your gaze to his and the smile on your face stretches wider. "Why don't I give you something to giggle about, then!"

You see him gear up to swing the pipe at your head. An old, long-buried instinct screams at you to duck. You stand still and compliant for your Popsy, because that's what good and entertaining toys do. They always do what they're told, or they get broken and discarded.

You briefly wonder why you're still being broken if you're the favorite.

The sound of metal crashing into your ear jolts you awake, and you find yourself looking at plain, beige walls.

Your hand flies to your head, fingers brushing along the shell of your ear. You feel the sensation of touch, but hear nothing. Almost total hearing loss on the side of impact. You look at your right hand, at the small crook in your middle and ring fingers you didn't manage to completely set right as they were healing. Usable, but forever altered. The digits crack every time you flex it into a fist. Pop. Pop. Pop.

You take stock of the rest of your body while your breathing slows back to normal. Two arms. Two legs. Ten fingers. Ten toes. No new cuts. No new breaks. Some new bruises, but aside from being colorful little polka dots in your skin, you ignore them.

You're fine. But you can feel your heart hammering in your ribcage, and the ever-present tremor in your limbs has worsened after waking up. The itch of inactivity is making itself known under your skin. You don't look at the camera in the corner of your cell, but you still feel that instinct to perform, to please, to entertain.

But these people don't think you're funny. Not like Popsy. They don't get your jokes. They don't play your games. They don't tell you what they want from you, so you do nothing for as long as you can, until the boredom and the itch settles in and becomes unbearable.

Right now it's unbearable.

You get up off the floor and wander to the door, pressing your fingers into the seam between it and the wall. If you apply enough pressure, the sensor inside thinks it's got something stuck in the doorway, and it pops open. A hilarious safety measure you exploit whenever the boredom rears its head.

Wing-a-ding is watching you tonight. Or, he would be, if his attention wasn't on a case file he's got open in his lap instead of your camera feed. You could scare him for a laugh, but the way he looks at you isn't fun, so you leave him be. It's child's play to slip past him, inattentive and unaware at the bat computer, and climb the first set of stairs you find.

You creep through the grandfather clock and step into Wayne manor, casting your gaze about the brand new space with wide, curious eyes. So many breakable things! So many fancy things, too. Fancy chairs, fancy desks, fancy mirrors, fancy carpet, fancy stairs...Batsy is richy-richy-rich!

The house is large and easy to get lost in. Larger than any other building you've ever been in. It smells nicer, too. You step into the hall and pick a random direction to go, footfalls light and airy. It's a nice distraction from your dream, and the palpitations aren't as harsh the more you walk.

You find a sitting room. The chairs are big, but kinda stiff, so you don't sit long and keep going.

Another sitting room. This one has a loveseat that's bouncy. You jump up and down on it until the wheezy, light feeling you get from the broken ribs forces you to stop. You accidentally tip a vase over as you climb down, and it lies cracked on the floor, but no one comes to hurt you, so you ignore it.

You have to lie down for a couple minutes to catch your breath before you can continue, but eventually you're up and off again.

There's a big book room. You wander between the shelves and trail your fingers along the spines, eyeing the colors and symbols detailed on each one that stands out to you. You pick one and pluck it out of the shelf, thumbing through the pages as though you had any chance of deciphering the messages printed on them. You wonder what story lies inside it with a curious quirk of your lips.

You think of calm, even tones and a quiet voice, reading a tale about an angry little girl who has to adjust to a whole new way of living now that her parents are gone. You wonder if...

The book falls from your fingers. It's more amusing to leave it on the floor than put it back where it belongs, so you knock a couple more down to join it before you leave the big book room with a snicker.

You've just stumbled upon the kitchen when someone clears their throat behind you.

Grinning, you twirl around and clasp your hands behind your back, finding yourself looking up at Alfred.

"Lady Punchline," he greets you. He's wearing pajamas, so you must have awoken him while exploring. He doesn't look upset. "Can I get you anything?"

You get asked that a lot. You don't know what the right answer is. You don't know how to play their games yet. You just smile and click your feet together. The noise is soothing.

Click. Click. Click.

"It's quite late," Alfred continues, "or early, depending on your opinion. Why don't I get you settled into a bed and we can read another chapter of The Secret Garden together?"

He holds out a hand for you to take. You wait for it to curl into a fist, wait for it to dart forward and strike you somewhere, but it doesn't.

Alfred continues to stand there with you, waiting quietly. You look at his hand for a long time, staring at every weathered groove and line. You notice the uniformity of his fingers, the callouses borne of hard work, the lack of scarring.

You brush your right hand against his palm, comparing the shapes against your own. He's very warm to the touch.

Click. Click. Click.

"Lady Punchline," he speaks up. "I will take you to my quarters for the night. If that isn't acceptable to you, all you need to do is remove your hand from mine, and we can go somewhere else."

A command. No...a direction. A plan. You just have to follow his plan. That's fine. You are Popsy's obedient little toy, and you're very good at it. You can follow Popsy's plans. You can comply with others, too.

You thread your crooked fingers in his pretty ones. He gives you a single nod and a featherlight squeeze, then leads you through the halls of the large house.

You walk for a while together. You have to stop twice when the wheezing gets bad and the world starts to tip around like a rollercoaster, but Alfred just keeps his gentle hold of your hand and guides you along when you're ready.

Soon enough, you're ushered into a large bedroom and tucked into a bed that could easily fit ten of you. It's both soft and firm, supporting your back and easing the pressure in your ribs and warming you in a way you're not used to. You stare at the ceiling and feel your heart beating heavily against your chest while Alfred grabs his book and sits in the armchair a couple feet away.

"The last we left off was chapter six. I shall start from there," he says.

You let his voice wash over you and drown out all other sensations. Your racing heart slows down. The trembling in your limbs lessens. Popsy's voice echoing around in your mind quiets, until all you can hear is Alfred's soft, steady cadence and all you can think about is Mistress Mary, learning how to be a child.

Your eyes slip closed and you're out before he's halfway through the chapter.

[cookiekissers]

hi!! as a shadow milk cookie simp, can i request a oneshot (or dating headcanons can work!) of shadow milk cookie x male reader

have a great evening/morning/night/afternoon

drink water and sleep well!

[Shadow Milk Cookie x Male Reader]

[head canons] [fluff]

Dating Shadow Milk can range from fun and games to him sleeping on the couch for pushing your buttons a little too much.

He'll always whine about you not forgiving him right away, and will attempt to help you get over your anger by telling jokes and acting silly.

And... it always works. You love him and can't resist his antics for very long.

He's a cuddle bug. Loves cuddling you and holding you whenever he gets the chance.

Shadow Milk loves when you help with his performances and acts as his assistant.

Even though you are dating, Shadow Milk will still try to dazzle and impress you every chance he gets.

Will steal your snacks before you can eat them, but he'll always replace them before you can notice.

Is constantly coming up with, and calling you sweet nicknames. They can range from cute things he loves about you, to silly and weird, to incredibly embarrassing.

"Oh, my heart's desire~ Where are yoooouu~?"

Its both endearing but also embarrassing because Shadow Milk does not let up with the nicknames even when in public.

Loves dancing with you in the kitchen during the night when you're both still awake and making snacks at midnight.

He's a yapper, and genuinely enjoys having someone who listens to him weave stories.

When Shadow Milk confessed to you, you were originally hesitant to believe that his feelings were true, due to him being the Beast of Deceit and all. He is still a liar. But... it is really a lie if it becomes true in the end?

I feel like Shadow Milk would only confess romantic feelings for you because he wants to con something out of you or use you in some way. Or at least that's how it was in the beginning, and he accidentally falls head over heels for you throughout the process of his long-con.

He would try to push down these feelings and pretend they aren't there. He's only using you to get what he wants! But... he knows he's lying to himself.

And the Master of Deceit, who is so used to manipulating Cookies and getting into their heads now finds himself unable to get YOU out of his head.

It annoys him to no end. And for a little while he'll try to fight it, his "affectionate" act towards you will become over the top. It will be sickly sweet and tinged in bitterness. Because a part of him believes that your feelings towards him are also a lie.

Of course you don't trust him, why would you? So your feelings and this whole relationship must be a sham. It's hollow and empty.

Shadow Milk will use his shapeshifting abilities to "test" you. Transforming into a "concerned citizen", he will ask you about your relationship with himself.

And... well he gets his answer. You don't know if Shadow Milk really loves you. But you do love him, and deep down, you believe that he loves you too.

[ynhnasol]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

THIS IS A REPOST

part 2

flirty!satoru didn't think much of you when he first met you. yeah you were cute and he saw you often behind the counter at his favourite coffee shop, but you kept to yourself that the only thing he knew about you was your name. next time you hang out with them, he was determined to at least get to know you a little better.

flirty!satoru started asking to go out with only you after a few months, which you weren't suspicious of. suguru had a lot of responsibilities, and shoko was always tired and preferred staying home, so you didn't think much of it when it was only the two of you going out.

flirty!satoru is always paying for you during your "hangouts". satoru will never let you pay for anything because he will always have the provider mindset (what a man).

flirty!satoru hates sharing clothes, even with a close friend like suguru. he's grown up as a spoiled only child so he hates any kind of sharing, but he will never say no to giving you his hoodies!! he is in love with the way his hoodie so is large on you that it basically engulfs you. he just thinks you look so adorable when you wear his sweaters.

flirty!satoru loves sleeping beside you. after a long day, he likes to come over and he doesn't care if it's on the bed or your couch, he loves snuggling up to you and feeling the warmth of your body against him. the first night you slept over at his apartment, you left early in the morning because you felt embarrassed so now satoru wakes up early to prevent you from doing so again.

flirty!satoru enjoys making you flustered IMMENSELY. everytime you hand him the house keys, he'll let his fingers slightly intertwine with yours, imitating hand holding. if you ask him to grab something from the top of the cabinet, he'll cage you in his arms before you get a chance to move out the way and he'll press his body onto your back before handing you the thing you asked him to get. his love language for sure is physical touch.

flirty!satoru who is so physically affectionate with you, it's like he'll die if he's not touching you in any way. he's quite sneaky too, when you're sitting on the couch beside him, he'll do the good ole "yawn and stretch" trick to put his arm over you. when you're watching a scary movie with him, satoru would pretend to be scared to get closer to you and if he's feeling extra bold, he'll hide his face into the crook of your neck, his lips being dangerously close to your skin.

flirty!satoru notices the way you try to take sneaky glances at him when you think he's not looking. he basks in the fact that even though you're not officially together, your eyes are always on him (the same for him about you ofc). sometimes he'll even look back at you and see if you'll continue the eye contact but he knows you'll turn away (he loves doing this because he thinks that it's so cute you can barely hold eye contact with him).

flirty!satoru is speechless when you get clingy with him when you get a couple of drinks in your system. after everyone left satoru's penthouse, you stayed behind, tipsy and unable to even walk straight. he takes a sit beside you on his couch, tilting his head to look at you trying to stay awake. you caught him off-guard when you crawled into his lap, you're situated in between his thighs with your legs crossed on top of his right thigh. you lean your head on his chest, and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist so that you don't fall back. you nestle your head into his chest and muttered, "you smell good".

as shy as you usually are, he wanted to keep seeing you like this. a side of you that only he can see - clingy and more outgoing (also very promiscuous but no one else needs to know).

flirty!satoru takes time out of his busy day to come pick you up when you're off, especially if you're working closing shifts. friends pick each other up all the time, what's the difference? it's not like satoru came all the way from the other side of the city, speeding the entire way, and running a couple of red yellow lights... he just didn't want you to wait for him outside where someone sketchy might come up to you.

after arriving in front your apartment complex, you offered him dinner as a thank you, and there's no way flirty!satoru would ever decline your cooking! after a hearty meal that satoru rates 10/10, he suggests watching this new movie suguru was telling him about.

midway through the movie you end up falling asleep, your head leaning onto the side of his arm. he can tell that you're uncomfortable with the position so he scoots forward on the couch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and having you snuggle up to his arm.

satoru ends up closing the tv soon after and carrying you to your bed. he fixes the hairs that are covering your face and pulls the duvet over you. after ensuring that you're sleeping comfortably, he goes back go the living room to close all the lights when he notices your phone ringing with notifications.

omfg forgot to tell u guys but we finally saw the guy she was talking about 12:35 am

she wasnt lying when she said hes so fine12:35 am

@[username]pls tell me he has friends 12:36 am

are you guys seeing or what!!! ;) 12:36 am

the groupchat you had with your close friends from work was filled with the coworker who you closed with gushing over satoru. she went on about how he waited for you at the front of the shop, that he opened the door for you, and even introduced himself as a "close friend" of yours (with a wink).

satoru couldn't help but smile at your phone, looking through all the times you've mentioned him to your friends. he writes a quick message to your friends before closing the app. like he came to do, satoru closed the lights all around your apartment then made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep soon after.

flirty!satoru who after that night, becomes more confident in his advances towards you. he's been so affectionate that even suguru and shoko are questioning your relationship. suguru notices that satoru's homescreen is not his fav celebrity, but rather a candid pic of you! he also saw a glimpse of your contact name on the white-haired man's phone. had suguru known better, he would've thought the two of you were already dating.

flirty!satoru was hyping himself up the next week to actually ask you out. he was going all out for you, with a small hike to a cliff that overlooked the skyline of city and there would be a picnic blanket with your favourite foods inside the picnic basket with arrangements of your favourite flowers surrounding the blanket, the whole shabam!

he calls you.

and calls.

and calls.

but you don't answer.

it was getting closer to the time that he needed to be on the way, but you still weren't answering. he was about to leave his penthouse when he received a text from you.

hey satoru I think I need some space right now. I'll text you back when I feel okay, hope you understand. 6:27 pm

and for the first time in his life, flirty!satoru's stomach dropped.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this is my first time posting on tumblr and ngl i'm kinda nervous but whateverrrr I have so many wip about the jjk men i need them out of the notes app NEOW this is also not proofread :)

I deleted the blog that my works were originally posted on soooooo

[oya-oya-okay]

OH MY GOD DARLING, YOU'RE WELCOME!!😭💕💖💕💖💕💖 I REALLY LOVE JAMIMAYU AND THE WAY WE DISCUSSED HOW THEY LOOK LIKE SHUZUL, IT'S JUST THE PERFECT COMBO!!💗💥💥💥 I really wanted to draw something in honor of this for you!!!😍😍😍

KYYYAAAAAAAAA🤯😭😭😭 SHUZUL FROM YOU!!!😭😭😭😭😭😭 OH MYYY, I REALLY LOVE HOW YOU DRAW AZUL🐙💕💕💕 HE'S SO CHARMING AND FLUFFY!💓 SHUU BLUSHES, SHE'S SO ADORABLE!!😍🥰💗💖 And she's the only one without a jacket LMAO. I just realized it now!!🙃 She probably would have felt cold afterwards / would have sunburned a little💕💕 AZUL IS SUCH A CARING GENTLEMAN, JUST LIKE HIM!!🥰🥰🥰 THANK YOUUU VERY MUCH, I'M CRYING😭🙏💖😭💗💗💗 Also I love this pose of Mayu, she's cute!!!🤭😍

I'M VERY HAPPY THAT YOU LIKED THE DESIGNS, WAAAHHHH😭😭😭 I WAS ALSO LOOKING FOR A LOT OF PICTURES AND GOOD REFERENCES!! I tried very hard on JAMIL☠️ I wanted the style to really suit him and it looked like something he would definitely wear🙏🙏🙏 I thought the sleeveless sweatshirt was perfect😍😍😍 The bracelets fit too!! THE CAP WAS ADDED SO THAT HE COULD PUT IT ON THE CUTE MAYU, XDD💗💖💗💖 But here is the version without the cap!! Charming couple🥰🥰🥰 THEY LOOK REALLY GOOD TOGETHER:

YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!! I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT TOO!💖💥💖💥 Jamil was probably not thrilled, but then he was pleased to see the girls happy. AZUL WAS DEFINITELY LUCKY, HE WAS HAPPY WITH THE WHOLE SITUATION!🐙✨✨✨ He was so excited that Mayu almost lost her arm- XD THANK YOU SM FOR PAYING ATTENTION TO ALL THE DETAILS😭💖💖💖

I'm ashamed that I drew quickly and it doesn't look neat, because it was the only night after college when I didn't come back too late😖 I wanted to make it, but next time I'll probably take my time and draw everything beautifully, gradually and WORTHILY!✊💗💖✨ I'M GLAD YOU LIKED MAYU AND SHUU, XDD, I GIGGLED WHEN I DREW THEM LIKE THIS!💕💖💕💖💕💕💖

IM VERY HAPPY AND TOUCHED THAT YOU APPRECIATED JAMIL😭💕💖💕💖 I TRIED SO HARD😭😭😭 I SOMETIMES FEEL INSECURE WHEN I DRAW HIM LIKE "WHAT IF IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE HIM", SO SUCH COMMENTS MEAN A LOT TO ME, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, DEAR SYDER!!!🥰😍💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Im very happy to brighten up your day🥺😭 aND THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SUCH A CHARMING DRAWING SHUZUL!!🙏💖💗💖💖💗💖💗💖💗 I hope you have a good rest! I wish you a good night and a wonderful day in advance!🐍🍙💗💕💓💖💕💗💓💖

AHWGHAHWHW👉👈 for you @anbaisai

I REALLY WANTED A DOUBLE DATE!!🐍🍙🐿️🐙 So here...!😍😍😍 And small doodles!

MAYU'S DESIGN HERE!!!

[stopaskinf]

🍜Reacting to Namjoon Eating🍜

Genre: FLUFF‼️‼️

A/N: This is very self indulgent for me. I like a man who eats well.

🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜

“I like the way you eat.”

He nearly choked on the ramen you made him.

“Suddenly?”

“Yeah. It’s cute.”

He leans his head down and gives a shy smile.

“How?”

You shrug.

“I don’t know. You take these like big, small bites that make your cheeks look bigger. Your little stupid earrings jingle along with your jaw. You get concentrated like you’re thinking hard.”

None of this sounds like a compliment to him.

“It’s cute. Your lips get small and pouty like a doll. They get this glossy pinkish plump. Kinda looks like a bunny’s tongue.”

He feels himself getting embarrassed.

“You look like you enjoy every bite you take. You look like you eat well and I like it.”

He looks at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

God, he loves you.

[merbear25]

Are your requests open again?! 😃

If so, may I please request headcanons for Sanji, Mihawk, and Shanks reacting to their girlfriend making them a gift basket like this?

Awww what a cute gift to give them! I hope you like it! 💜💜

CW: SFW, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, headcanons

Gifting them a Valentine’s Day basket (Sanji, Mihawk, Shanks)

Sanji

How could his heart not skip a beat when being gifted anything by you. His darling girlfriend had him in mind while putting a basket together? 

Didn’t matter what the contents were, frankly. Just knowing he was on your mind was enough to send his heart soaring that much higher for you.

He favored the skin care products, seeing as he wanted to keep himself looking and smelling good for his special woman.

Those candy bars were a nice addition, though he wouldn’t dare not share them with you. If you allowed him, he’d adore hand feeding you some of the chocolates. 

Watching your delicate lips’ gentle movements at the tip of his fingers was something he could never tire of.

That freshly shaven face with the rosy scent of the aftershave you gave him left you no choice but to pepper him in soft kisses. There was no chance he’d leave you without sweet affections in return.

Chocolate covered kisses and warm embraces, he nearly forgot to give you your gift. He carefully removed it from its hiding place and watched in delight as your eyes lit up.

Mihawk

Despite his stare at the basket you gave him, it wasn’t one that carried judgement. He was difficult to read at times, something you were already well aware of.

His steady eyes then flickered to your waiting expression. A genuine, albeit monotoned, thank you carried over to you. Your sincere pleasure at his appreciation warmed him in ways only you were capable of.

Although the present was decked out in gaudy hearts to match the holiday, there was a certain charm to it. 

Perhaps it was solely to do with the fact that you were the one to give it to him, but he came to like those little pink and red symbols.

The skin care and shaving set were very much appreciated. He took a bit of pride in maintaining his appearance, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the extra attention he got from his girlfriend whenever he used products that smelled “manly” as you put it.

The chocolate was an unexpected enjoyment. He shared the boxed chocolates with you but would split the candy bars only if you asked.

Not having suspected you’d surprise him with a gift, he quickly threw together a bouquet. Even with it being a last minute gift, he put thought into the arrangement, leaving you feeling loved and adored just as you deserved.

Shanks

He was deeply touched by the fact you got him something. Neither of you had discussed getting a present for the other, but knowing you were thinking of him just as much as he was of you meant the world to him.

With the excitement sparkling in the air, he couldn’t wait. He ran to fetch the gift he’d gotten for you. Now it was his turn to witness the surprise on your face.

You could tell how much time he’d put into it: some of your favorite things were included, those which you only mentioned once to him in passing about the flavor or scent.

His face lit up once more at the sheer happiness beaming from you, and he couldn’t hold back from kissing your cheeks with soft adoration.

Seeing as you both had included snacks in your gifts, it would be a shame not to indulge in them together.

That night was spent cuddled up on the sofa, taking turns feeding each other between the soft cuddles and pecks on the lips.

He surprisingly liked the scent you’d picked out for him for the skin care products, often to the extent of using too much of it. There were a few times you had to remind him that it was too much of a good thing.

[writingjourney]

since you posted that Secondo drabble, I’m dying to know…what do you think is one little thing that his partner could do that would make Secondo feel loved? just like an everyday thing that many of us would overlook but would be so special to him :)

i have a whole bunch!! i always say secondo is a provider, he is someone who takes care of others but struggles to accept someone taking care of him in the same way, hates feeling vulnerable. he isn't used to having company for longer than a few hours, so once you spend a lot of time over and naturally start helping him he's overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all. very much an acts of service and physical affection sort of guy, if you meet him there he'll swoon.

here is a spontaneous list of what gets his heart beating:

helping him with his cufflinks

fixing his tie in public

kissing him in front of others

reaching for his hand first

making his morning coffee before he gets a chance to do it (i hc him as an early riser so he's usually up first, you have to be sneaky)

any gentle touches, soft kisses and words of affection that are not transactional (all of them, what a concept)

leaving little notes for him to find

sending him cute texts throughout the day (he hates texting, you're the only one he texts back)

cleaning the reading glasses he uses at night

marking the page he fell asleep on while reading in bed

eating the food he made for you

catching you wearing the perfume he gifted you

subtly matching his outfit when you go out together

using any sort of personal pet name on him

when you take care of him after sex (he can get emotional when it's particularly intense)

plugging in the heating pad with no comment

when he gets to be the little spoon

when you tell him you love him (every single time)

[bananarama321]

IT IS OVER

I have been a Bridgerton fan since 2004, when I was starting university. Most of you understand how excited I was when my imagination was brought to my television. It was even better than what I imagined. I have loved the show and even more season 3 because Penelope was always that girl.

After the world tour, like several of you, I got entranced by Nic and Luke's chemistry. I started shipping them as a couple and had an immense amount of fun with several of you looking for clues and secret messages about them being together.

It was all fun and giggles ... until it wasn't It became a fight over who stayed on the ship or the restaurant. If you didn't believe a theory, you were part of the problem. If you gave a different opinion people would throw you away from group chats and block you if you didn't apologize.

Since the beginning, I was part of the ship because Nic herself said they thought it was "cute". Little by little I started feeling uncomfortable but my "friends" were clear that if you jumped ship you couldn't come back.

Well. I am done. I am jumping ship. This isn't fun anymore and it's becoming toxic and mean-spirited. At this point it is evident that Nic has a steady partner. We don't know much about Luke but I don't want to be the cause of their pain or a reason for them to resent the fandom. The more we insist on saying lukola is real, the less they will share with us because they are afraid we might hurt those that they love.

Let's be transparent for a second. Jake Dunn has never expressed anything related to his sexuality, newsflash: bisexual and pansexual people exist. Jake and Nicola are always together, often alone. She shares him, and he shares her, but you have to be naive to not see the difference online between them and the rest of their friends. Even if after all of this, you believe they are just friends, there is no way you can deny that he is clearly a loved one and that she would be upset about the amount of horrible adjectives people throw his way. Hurting Jake is hurting Nic. No matter how much you like to pretend it isn't.

We know very little about Luke, like I said, but let's stop insulting Antonia too. The girl is young and doesn't owe anything to our fandom.

Also STOP COMMENTING ON NICOLA'S BODY. I have no words for this part. I am baffled, sad, disappointed, and mad at so many of you for not defending her like you defend the ship. She is worth more than that, and I know deeply inside you, you know it to be true.

At the end of the day, Nic is having an amazing beginning to 2025. She is healthy, and happy and is now a SAG-nominated actress. She also has the Neutrogena campaign coming out, The Magic Faraway Tree and hopefully more. We have been blessed by getting a lot of content from her. Let's make her feel happy and relaxed about sharing personal and professional updates with us. We are supposed to be her safe space, not her nightmare.

Luke has been quiet but hopefully has something cooking too. We are waiting on news on when his next two projects are coming out and we should be ready to support him.

Last but not least, they are most likely to be at the SAG Awards in February. Let's not make this about Lukola. It is Nicola's night with her first big acting nomination. I implore you not to ruin it for her.

Sending love to you all. Please if the shipping is too much and you get emotionally affected by them not being together, seek help for your mental health. I don't say that to mock you, I say this as another human who sometimes struggles.

XOXO g.