#it's just sometimes they say 'please' and 'thank you'

[kashverse]

sukuna and reader need to start saying no to their daughter otherwise she’ll turn into a snob

"you two need to start saying no to her, or she’s gonna turn into a snob," uraume says, arms crossed as they watch babykuna get hand-fed a strawberry by sukuna, who is fully crouched next to her little princess throne (a custom, ridiculously expensive high chair) like some kind of devoted servant. "you realize," sukuna scoffs, popping another strawberry into her mouth, "that at the end of the day, she’s a sukuna."

"which is exactly why i said what i said," uraume deadpans. but you shake your head with a knowing smile, reaching out to smooth down your daughter’s hair. "not entirely. her papa might be a nightmare, but i’m here to balance it out," you say, tapping her chubby little cheek. "besides, we teach her to be grateful for what she has, right, baby?"

babykuna munches on her strawberry, eyes shining as she nods vigorously. "gotta have courage, be kind, and say 'thank you' when i get stuff!" she recites, somewhat garbled through her mouthful.

"exactly," you praise.

uraume squints. "yeah? and what about when she throws a tantrum because she wants an extra present?"

"mama says i can’t always get what i want," babykuna says sagely, raising a chubby finger. "and papa says if i cry enough, sometimes people cave in."

uraume turns to you with the most unimpressed look. "are you kidding me."

you glare at sukuna. "excuse me?"

he shrugs, entirely unapologetic. "what? it’s true."

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. "baby," you sigh, "we do not manipulate people to get things."

"right," she nods. "we ask nicely."

"…and if they say no?"

"make the saddest face ever."

uraume gapes at you. "she’s already a menace."

"she’s just smart," sukuna says proudly, booping babykuna’s nose.

"i say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’!" babykuna exclaims, throwing her arms up in pure delight. uraume sighs, rubbing their temples. "you guys are so doomed."

on a more serious (author's) note, sukuna would not allow his daughter to turn into a snob :P he is sukuna after all, and reader is always there to smoothen things out.

[mrsfancyferrari]

His Feast

Summary: LH44 + slow feasting on you

Song: Pipe · Christina Aguilera

Author’s note: Thanks @urfriendlywriter for the prompt idea. Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 3.8k

The way you moved had become a carefully choreographed dance, a soft sway designed to conceal more than it revealed. Every morning, the ritual started with the oversized t-shirt, the one that swallowed your frame whole, a deliberate shield against prying eyes - and the eyes you felt most drawn to, those of Lewis.

You hadn’t always been like this, a creature of shadows and loose fabric. There was a time, not so long ago, when you’d pranced around in shorts and tank tops, comfortable in the skin you inhabited.

But somewhere along the line, a whisper of doubt, a chorus of insecurities, had grown into a deafening roar in your mind.

Lewis, with his infuriatingly open affection, only heightened your shame. He’d always been vocal about his appreciation for your body, for the curves and the dips that you were now so desperate to hide.

He’d trace the line of your collarbone with a soft finger and say, “You’re stunning, you know that?” His words, once music to your ears, now felt like a spotlight, exposing every supposed flaw.

You tried to deflect his compliments, to change the subject with a nervous laugh, but his gaze always held a knowing tenderness that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

You’d started avoiding mirrors, your reflection now a source of painful scrutiny. The gym had become a prison, each session a grueling exercise in self-loathing.

You’d catch Lewis watching you sometimes, his expression a mix of concern and confusion, and you’d quickly turn away, ashamed of your attempts to shrink, to disappear.

You knew you were being ridiculous, but the voice in your head was relentless, painting you as flawed, as something less than beautiful.

One evening, you were getting ready for a quiet night in. You pulled on an old, baggy sweatshirt, the one that Lewis had jokingly called your ‘hibernation tent.’

He was in the kitchen, humming softly as he prepared dinner. When he came into the bedroom, he paused, his smile faltering.

“You okay, love?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Yeah, why?” you replied, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Just…you’ve been wearing this a lot lately," he said, his eyes lingering on the oversized fabric. "And the jeans, even when it’s warm. Everything seems so…covered.”

You felt your chest tighten. You wanted to lie, to tell him you were just cold, but his gaze was too understanding, too perceptive.

“I’m just…comfortable,” you mumbled, looking away.

He stepped closer, his hand lightly touching your arm. “You look comfortable, sure, but you don’t seem comfortable. Are you…are you hiding from me?”

His question pierced you like a shard of glass. You couldn't hold it in anymore. “I’m not as beautiful as you say I am," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips. "I... I see things in the mirror, things I don’t like. Things that you think aren’t there, but they are.”

His forehead furrowed, his touch becoming firmer, yet softer. "What things?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Tell me.”

You hesitated, the shame rising like a tide. “My…my tummy, the way my thighs look, my arms…everything.” You closed your eyes, the tears threatening to spill.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. When you opened your eyes, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your throat ache. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, shame washing over you in waves. “I’m sorry," you said, your voice cracking. "I know it’s silly but…”

He stepped forward, pulling you gently into his arms. “Don’t you ever,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair, “Don’t you ever apologize for feeling something. And please, never call what you feel, silly.”

You clung to him, burying your face in his chest, the tears finally escaping. “I just want to be the person you see,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt.

He held you tight, his hand stroking your back. “I see you, love,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I see all of you. And all of you is beautiful. It’s not just what’s on the surface, though that is stunning obviously, it’s also the way you laugh, the way you care, the heart that you have. That’s what makes you beautiful. Do you trust me?”

His question hung in the air. You looked up at him, your eyes red and swollen. “Yes,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I do.”

He smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made your heart ache in the best possible way. "Okay then," he said, taking your hands. "Let’s do something about this.”

The room was a symphony of shadows and candlelight as Lewis guided you to the bed, the soft glow playing over his chiseled features, painting a picture of raw masculine beauty that made your knees wobble.

The air was thick with anticipation, charged with the electricity of a thousand unspoken words. You felt the heat of his gaze as he took in your form, the hunger in his eyes making you quiver with a need so deep it was almost painful.

"Take off your clothes," he said, his voice a gentle command that resonated through you like a bass note from a distant cello.

His eyes never left yours as you fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, the fabric sliding away to reveal the swells of your breasts.

He watched you with the intensity of a hawk eyeing its prey, his pupils dilating as your vulnerability laid bare before him.

The fabric of your skirt whispered against your legs as it fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your lacy underwear. He took in the sight of you, his breath hitching slightly as he traced the edge of your panties with the tip of his finger.

"Do you know how much I love watching you undress for me?" he murmured, his voice a soft caress that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your neck. His touch was like a brand, leaving trails of fire in its wake as he gently eased down your panties, revealing the dampness between your thighs.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, and whispered, "I want to show you just how much I crave you."

And then he did. His mouth found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth grazing the soft skin as he kissed you.

His hands roamed your body with a confidence that made you feel like the most precious treasure in the world, each caress a declaration of his love for your every curve and dip.

His thumb slid between your folds, teasing your clit, as he whispered sweet nothings about your beauty into your ear.

You moaned as he slid a finger inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing out the pleasure until you were begging for more.

He added another, filling you up as his thumb continued to dance over your swollen bud. The feeling was almost too much, a delicious agony that made you arch your back, desperate for relief.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a gruff whisper. You met his gaze, his eyes dark with lust and something else, something deeper.

Something that made your heart stutter in your chest. "See what you do to me," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his pants.

You couldn't help the smug smile that curved your lips. You knew you affected him, knew that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But seeing it laid bare like this was intoxicating.

He took your hand and placed it on his hardness, his eyes never leaving yours as you squeezed gently.

"Take off your bra," he said, his voice hoarse. You complied, the fabric falling away to expose your breasts to the cool air. He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

His mouth followed the trail his hands had set, kissing and nibbling his way down your body, leaving a path of fire in his wake.

When his mouth reached your breasts, you thought you might die from the pleasure. His tongue flicked and swirled around your nipples as his hands kneaded and squeezed, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I could play with these all night."

Your body was a canvas, and he was the artist, painting strokes of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. You felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your orgasm building like a storm at sea, ready to crash over you at any moment.

"Lewis," you breathed, your voice a plea.

He pulled away, a wicked glint in his eye. "Not yet, baby," he said, his voice low and husky. "There's so much more I want to show you."

And with that, he stood and began to strip away his own clothes, his body revealed inch by glorious inch. You watched, transfixed, as he shed the last of his garments, his erection standing proud and thick, a testament to his desire for you.

"Are you ready?" Lewis murmured, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, your eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The weight of his question was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment where you would let go of your fears and insecurities, and let him love you completely.

"Good," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air. He stepped closer to you, his naked body a sculpture of desire in the flickering candlelight.

The heat of him washed over you, making your skin prickle with goosebumps, and you could feel the tension in the room ratchet up a notch.

With a gentle touch, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. "I'm going to show you just how much you mean to me," he murmured. "How much I love every inch of you."

His mouth met yours in a kiss that was at once tender and fierce, a promise of the passion to come. His tongue slid against yours, teasing and tasting, as his hands slid down to grip your hips.

He stepped closer, the length of him pressing against your stomach as he lifted you onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.

You felt the softness of the sheets beneath you, a stark contrast to the hardness of his body above. His weight was a comfort, a reassurance that he was here, that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Look at me," he said again, pulling away slightly so he could gaze into your eyes. "I need you to see me, to know that this is real."

You nodded again, unable to find the words to express what you felt. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands sliding over your thighs as he bent his head to kiss you again, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw before moving lower, to the hollow of your throat.

His kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands roamed further, one hand finding its way back to your breast while the other slid down to cup you between the legs.

You gasped as he began to rub you in slow, firm circles, the pressure building as your body responded to his touch.

The first wave of pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you and leaving you gasping for air. You clutched at the sheets, your body arching off the bed as Lewis watched you with hooded eyes, his own desire evident in the tightness of his jaw and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He whispered sweet, filthy things into your ear, his voice a dark symphony that sent shivers down your spine. His mouth moved to your neck, his teeth scraping gently against your skin as his fingers danced over your clit.

You felt his cock nudging against your entrance, the blunt tip probing gently as he kissed a line of fire down to your chest.

"I'm going to make love to you now," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise. "I'm going to show you just how beautiful you are, how much I crave you."

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your body already singing with pleasure. And then he was inside you, filling you up in one slow, deep stroke that had you crying out his name.

His eyes never left yours as he began to move, his hips rocking into you with a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars.

The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain as he stretched and filled you, his every movement a declaration of his love for your body.

You could feel your walls clench around him, desperate to hold him in, never let him go.

You watched as he took his own pleasure, his eyes dark with passion, his jaw tight as he fought for control. And when he finally let go, when he came with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, you felt a sense of accomplishment, of belonging, that was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

He collapsed onto you, his weight a comfort as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice muffled. "All of you. And I'm never letting go."

And in that moment, you knew it was true. You had found your home, in the arms of the man who had just shown you that love was more than just a feeling; it was an act of worship, a celebration of the beauty that lay within.

"I'm yours," you whispered back, your voice trembling with the intensity of the emotions that surged through you.

Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or hesitation. Finding none, he kissed you again, this time with a tenderness that made you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

His cock, still hard within you, throbbed with the beat of his heart, and you felt a renewed sense of connection, of unity.

"I want you to come again," he murmured, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. "I want to feel you shatter for me, baby."

With gentle coaxing, he began to move again, his strokes long and deep, his eyes never leaving yours. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you could feel your orgasm building once more, a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm you.

Your breath grew ragged as you chased the peak, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks that would serve as a testament to the passion that had consumed you.

His own breath was hot and uneven against your neck, his body tense with the effort of holding back, of waiting for you to reach that perfect moment.

And when it came, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. It was a symphony of sensations, a maelstrom of pleasure that tore through you, leaving you shaking and gasping beneath him.

His name was a litany on your lips, a chant that matched the rhythm of his hips, the pounding of your heart.

As the last vestiges of your climax faded away, he kissed you softly, his movements slowing to a gentle rock as he allowed you to come down from the high.

His arms tightened around you, and you knew that in this moment, you were where you belonged.

He rolled to the side, taking you with him so that you lay entwined, his cock still buried within you. "I love you," he whispered, the words a soft benediction against your ear.

You turned your head to look at him. "I love you too, Lewis."

He kissed you again, a chaste peck that held more promise than any grand gesture could ever convey. "Now, let me show you just how much."

And with that, he began to move again, his touch tender, his kisses reverent. This time, there was no rush, no urgency. Just the two of you, lost in the sweetness of each other's embrace, exploring the depths of the love that had brought you to this place.

The night stretched out before you, a tapestry of passion and pleasure, and you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have this moment, this perfect union of bodies and souls.

"Look at me," he said again, his voice a gentle coax. You obeyed, your eyes meeting his, the intensity of his gaze making you quiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "So perfect. And all mine."

Your insecurities were a distant memory as you felt the warmth of his love surrounding you, a cocoon of acceptance and desire that made you feel more alive than you had ever been.

And as he brought you to the brink once more, and pushed you over the edge into oblivion, you knew that you had been reborn, not just as a lover, but as a woman who had finally learned to embrace her beauty, her passion, and the love that she had been so desperately seeking. . . .

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ SEUNGHYUN (T.O.P) AS YOUR HUSBAND

୨ৎ pairing: husband!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!!! super duper excited to take this request since he’s been my love since I was a very young girl! have always looked up to him and I’m so happy to be writing for him!! and he’s back?! wooo!! please enjoy this! x

he’s going to be a very caring, attentive, and thoughtful husband. I don’t care what anyone else says about him, he’s going to be the bestest husband and do all that he can to make you happy.

is he perfect? nope. not even close to it and no one is perfect but what he does is try and he shows you that he cares and cares enough to work hard to keep the relationship as healthy as it can be.

sometimes isn’t clingy because he wants you to be the one to break first. he definitely enjoys watching you run to him for a hug, kiss, or something else.

shy!!!! he’s not shy all the time and likes to be the dominant one in the relationship of course and in a very non toxic way but when he does feel shy it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen a man do.

“what? you think this suit looks good on me? oh.. it’s what they told me to wear and honestly I wasn’t sure if it was too much.. but since you like it—”

he won’t finish because he’s looking down at the ground cheeks slightly pink from feeling a bit shy and embarrassed by how you keep staring at him and complimenting him. sounds weird for him hm? well! you’re just that special girl to him. I mean come on he married you!! he’s a different man now.

is very overly protective over you. will do all that he can to protect you and your relationship. since you are now a married couple he takes it to another level of wanting you and him protected as a couple.

“would you like to try this new dish with me? I can make it! or.. maybe.. we can cook it together?”

please cook with him because he secretly loves it and falls more in love with you watching how you cut up vegetables and the look on your pretty face when you’re concentrated and working. so cute

seunghyun is very obsessed with morning sex especially now as a married couple he just feels it’s needed and if you both don’t have time in the morning then expect before bedtime sex.

he loves trying new things with you. when he first brought up pulling hair.. it wasn’t yours. it was his. you pulled on his soft black locks and he felt this spark inside of him that he’s never felt before.

if it was a long night of sex he purposely gets up before you and makes you breakfast but not in bed since he’ll kindly drag you out of bed and have you sit at the table with him but you always end up sitting in his lap which he enjoys more of course.

“you’re such a pretty girl did you know that?”

“I.. love you a lot. thank you for loving me despite everything that I’ve been through. thank you.”

he’s a cautious husband and never wants you to feel hurt or anything close to that. he’ll do all that he can to make sure you’re happy, comfortable, and safe. he’s careful with his words especially when you two get into small arguments. he’s learned from the past on what not to do.

seunghyun is very emotional and he’s not afraid to show that with you. when he was younger it was a different story but he’s older now and has been through things that has shown him it’s okay to show such emotions. he trusts you as his wife and always cries in your arms if he desperately needs it.

expect movie nights with him!! which end in not watching the movie at all and just talking to each other about the weirdest topics or space of course.

will take so many pictures of you posing next to the moon specially the full moon since it’s his favorite! he finds it beautiful just like you. cries

nights in are his favorite but if you want to go out then he’ll do that for you. he’ll enjoy going on walks with you while eating ice cream his most favorite sweets. his free hand will hold yours tightly.

craves you in every way possible. he’ll need to kiss you often and stroke your hair or pull you closer to him and his larger frame. he enjoys how much shorter you are and constantly brings it up.

[aidansloth]

Late Nights On Kitchen Floors Sometimes Lead To Confessions

Summary: You come home late one night to find your roommate Jason sobbing on the kitchen floor.

Warnings and A/N: some negative self-thoughts on Jason’s side. In this fic Jason is feeling a lot of feelings :) because we love our men crying and traumatized. Pre-relationship! This is my first time writing for Jason so I hope I did him justice. Written in the second person, gender neutral reader, I tried to make reader as inclusive as possible so if I missed something please let me know! JUSTKNOW that my heart broke while writing this. (final note, I wrote this at 4am so don’t judge me)

Words: 0.9k

I also posted this on ao3 if you want!!

Click

You secure the last of the locks on your door as you start to take your boots off along with your coat. Immediately as you stepped in your mind went into autopilot, following your routine so effortlessly that only after what was definitely too many seconds do you notice a heaving sound coming from your kitchen. 

“Jason?”

The words leave your mouth with a tinge of hope that it was just him and not a break-in you’d have to deal with at this ungodly hour in the morning. You check the time with a flick of your phone. 2:14am. 

You receive no response and reach for the bat Jason insisted you left hidden in the umbrella stand. You can never be too safe were his exact words and you’d honestly have to thank him if you made it out tonight. It’s only when you cross the door that you see him: Jason and all of his 6 feet of muscles are scrunched up into a wavering ball, his hands clutching his clothes and his head planted into his knees. All this time you’ve known him and yet he has never looked as vulnerable as he does now, on your dusty crumble-covered floor with tears in his eyes. 

At first no words come out of your mouth, how could they? You’ve talked to Jason just a couple of hours ago on your phone, he called saying he just wanted to hear your voice. He was fine earlier. He was. He asked how your day was. He listened, hanging off your every word. But now here he was in front of you, a broken shell of a man.

Trying to not startle him you get closer and call out his name again. This time he hears you.

He lifts his head and you can see smudged tear stains all over his face probably from an attempt to erase them. An hiccup escapes him and your heart breaks. 

“Oh baby,” you scooch in front of him and take his face in your hands. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

He can’t speak. The words are jabbed in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He opens his mouth but nothing other than a strangled sound comes out. You start petting his hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, you don’t have to say anything alright?” 

You settle on the floor and try to maneuver his body onto yours, his head on your shoulder. His body adapts to yours, his arms wrap around you and he feels like everything is going to be alright. One of your hands runs up and down his spine in a soothing manner while the other is nestled in his hair. 

A couple of minutes pass and you’re still holding him. Jason thinks he likes it. Being held, that is. 

After some more time his head lifts from your shoulder and your hands move to his forearms, caressing the skin there. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.

“I, ehm…” Jason’s gaze lays low and his hands start to play with yours. “I have to tell you something.” 

You nod and tell him to take his time. He bites his lip, still looking down. 

“I- Fuck, I messed this up. I really did. This was gonna be so much more romantic I swear. I was gonna- I was gonna invite you to that one bookstore we always go to, I was going buy you all the books you set your eyes on and- and I planned a walk through the park- the one- the one you like-” his voice keeps breaking and hiccuping, “-and walk through the flowerbeds and maybe if the day had gone well I would have had the courage to hold your hand.” he wipes a tear off his face with the palm of his hand. 

You try to speak but he speaks first.

“I like you. I really really like you. I wanted to do this well, tomorrow, but- I don’t know. I got too much in my own head and I’m-” Jason bites his lip and tears fill his eyes again, “I’m really sorry this is how I confess, you deserve so much better, so much better and I’m a mess and, and-” you grab his face and force him to look at you. 

“Jason Peter Todd, you listen to me carefully.” his big teary eyes look at your stern ones, “The only reason I’m not kissing you right now is because you deserve a beautifully romantic first kiss because you like beautifully romantic things. You deserve all the wonderful things this world has to offer.”

Jason thinks his heart has never felt so warm. 

“Wha-what?”

His words make you giggle and now he thinks his heart might actually implode. 

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Now your giggle turned into a proper laugh which made Jason smile. 

“Yeah, that was pretty obvious from the earlier declaration of love.” Now he’s giggling too. 

“Does that ehm- does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?” You giggle again at the innocence in his voice and Jason thinks he’d die all over again just for a chance to hear you laugh one more time.

“Yes, yes it does. Only if you take me to that date you were talking about though.”

He smiles. “We could go now.”

Your eyes widen. “Now? At 2am?”

He shrugs. “I’m Red Hood. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

You scoff. “Yeah alright, but I think the bookstore might be closed.”

“Ah. Right. Tomorrow then.”

“Eager?”

His smile only gets bigger. “Duh, I have a girlfriend to take out.”

Thank you for reading!! Constructive criticism/advice is always welcome!

[crybaby-bkg]

SACRIFICES & WICKED VICES

Izuku doesn't need you to know that he's the boss of one of the most infamous Yakuza groups. Too bad he's pretty shit at hiding it.

Warnings: yakuza boss Izuku x civilian reader, lots of cunnilingus, vaginal fingering mentions of tattoos, non graphic mentions of violence, Izuku picks reader up twice, pet names include princess baby and love, blowjobs, and very soft and emotional sex Word Count: 6.6k Notes: as many of you know, this fic is based on a Drabble I created back in June 2023!! I can't believe it took me this long to write it, but this is for Kitten and Kitten only!!! <3 Also available on Ao3! Minors and ageless blogs DNI.

“Excuse me!” A deep voice yells out, catching your attention as your head turns to look over your shoulder. There’s a green haired man a couple feet behind you, bent over, grabbing something from the ground that you can’t make out from around his fingers. When he stands, you’re slightly taken aback by his looks and his size, more focused on the overwhelming smattering of freckles that dot his face than what you had dropped. He’s handsome, the man, with eyes to match his hair of a deep verdant color, a scar across his nose and through his eyebrow, his smile big and kind, his frame wider than what you’d expect from a face like his. 

Finally, do you manage to pry your eyes from his own to look down at his hands. You discover that your favorite lipgloss had somehow fallen from your bag, and you briskly pad over to the man who holds it out to you. 

“Oh, thank you so much!” You bow to him as you grab the tube from his hand, your fingers grazing over his rough and scarred palms. “I would’ve been pissed to have to kick out another twenty bucks for a lipgloss.” You roll your eyes at the price, smiling at the man who gives you a kind one in return. His eyes drink you in, almost respectfully so, as he tries to gather the right thing to say. 

“With or without it, you’re very beautiful, you know.” The stranger says, his words soft as they carry over the nights howling wind. He straightens when your eyebrows raise in surprise, his freckled face becoming pinker by the minute as he laughs awkwardly to himself. 

“That was—that was creepy, I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off with a wave of your hands, unable to stop grinning from the compliment. “That wasn’t creepy at all, I promise. If it was, I would’ve maced you by now.” You shrug halfheartedly, a playful look on your face. The stranger laughs, his smile wide and genuine, makes you damn near swoon at the dimples in his cheeks. 

“And I would’ve very much deserved it.” He smiles at you, his head tilting to the side, a curl of emerald hair shadowing his eyes for a split second. This man is handsome, and the longer he looks at you like that, the weaker you can feel your knees getting. When too much time passes without either of you saying anything, he opens his mouth, thumb hooked behind him as if poised to leave. You take a step in his direction quickly, your eyebrows raised in question as you rush out your words. 

“Can I ask you out to dinner sometime?” You spit out, surprising yourself at your boldness to make the first move, nerves immediately hitting you in the gut. What if he says no? What if he’s already taken and was just being polite? 

“As a way to thank you for saving me twenty bucks?” You tack on quickly when his mouth closes and opens again, cutting him off once more. He only smiles though, shaking his head at you as he scratches at the scruff on his chin.  

“Please, you don’t have to repay me.” He tells you, but doesn’t offer up any other reason that screams for you to back off. He doesn’t walk off either, and doesn’t look like he wants to any moment now. So you bite the bullet again, and hope that you’re not embarrassing yourself too much in front of the handsome, well dressed stranger. 

“Well can I just ask you out to dinner then? Just for the fun of it?” You ask him, shoulders raised, smile strained, hopeful. The man considers you for a long moment, before his eyes wander off down the street, over your shoulder, over his own, his hands scratching incessantly at his scruff. You can feel your excitement dying down by the second, the sinking feeling of rejection hitting you right in the belly as you slowly start to deflate. You open your mouth to rescind your offer and apologize, ready to walk away with your tail tucked between your legs, when he speaks. 

“Sure.” He says with a small smile before it brightens at the surprised look on your face, chuckling under his breath. “Sure, I’d like that.” He repeats, grin matching your own as he sticks his large hand out to you. 

“My name is Izuku, by the way.” He tells you, fitting your palm in his own. You wonder how he’s gotten so many scars on the backs of them, how many freckles you could count on just his right hand, as you introduce yourself to him. You exchange numbers with Izuku, promising to text him the details when you find the perfect place to dine at. 

“I don’t always answer in the most timeliest of manners, but please don’t take that as my disinterest. I just have a pretty packed schedule.” He tells you, his face suddenly going serious as he tilts his head down until you’re forced eye to eye with him. Slightly taken aback, you pause before nodding profusely, smiling a little as you wave his worries away. 

“That’s totally fine.” You promise him, checking the time as you realize you need to be home in a few minutes (your cat gets very finicky about dinner time, and you do not want to face her wrath today). “I’ll text you!” You call over your shoulder as you start to jog down the street, smiling at this mystery man who you can’t wait to know more about. Especially those tattoos on his wrist that you got just the tiniest glimpse of when he shook your hand. 

…

The night of your date takes place exactly one week after running into Izuku. You don’t text him first until three days after meeting, and he replied just last night to confirm meeting today. You’ve been nervous since the moment your eyes opened this morning, trying to figure out what you’re gonna wear, how you’ll do your makeup, what time you’ll have to get off work to make it home to shower and shave (thinking very far ahead, if you’re lucky), feed your cat, catch the train—

It’s a lot. But you’re here now, dressed in something soft and flowing for the summer night, sandals adorning your feet, makeup painted pretty and delicate, your cat at home and fed, and right on time. But Izuku is nowhere to be found, as you stand outside the restaurant for a few minutes, tote bag held in front of you to ward off the attention from anybody that’s not him. After a while, do you finally go inside so that you don’t miss your reservation. 

The hostess’ eyes damn near bulge out of her head when you tell her who the reservation is for, under his name, and she escorts you to the furthest most booth in the back. Its dimly lit there, but you notice a few eyes lingering on you as you make yourself comfortable. It must be because you don’t fit in much with the others and their attires, who mainly wear suits or traditional wear, so you brush off the looks and hope that Izuku doesn’t keep you waiting too long. 

He shows up twenty minutes after your agreed time, in a rush, huffing and panting as he loosens his tie on his way over to the table with an apologetic look on his face. You stand as he finally makes his way to the table, smiling at him and his flushed cheeks. 

“My apologies,” he starts, ruffling his hair into place as he tries to look more put together. “A business meeting ran a little longer than usual, and then my driver scraped somebody’s car, and,” 

Izuku stops abruptly mid sentence when he finally, actually, looks at you for the first time that night. His eyes go round, his mouth falling just the tiniest bit, his gaze drinking in every single inch of you from head to toe. His mouth snaps shut audibly, which makes you laugh behind your palm, and he finally looks you in the eye almost shyly. 

“I must be a blind idiot to not have first noticed how beautiful you look tonight.” The compliment rolls almost smoothly off of his tongue, his voice coated in velvet. It makes your face warm as you halfheartedly fix your hair, your eyes taking in his own outfit for the night. He wears a simple black suit, but its carved to the exact shape of his body, molded onto his thick biceps and muscled thighs. He slips off his tie smoothly before tucking it into his back pocket, popping open the first few buttons of his white shirt, revealing just the tiniest slither of pale, freckled skin. 

“You also look very beautiful,” you tell him with a smile before it drops in horror at the slight cock of his eyebrow, his inching grin. “Well, not beautiful, but—but handsome? Very handsome and polished and, I don’t know.” Izuku only laughs at your babbling, and you shake your head at your motor mouth. 

“I’ll take beautiful as a compliment any day if its coming from your mouth.” He says softly, his eyes an emerald green that seem to shine a bit brighter, even in the dull light of the restaurant. You only smile at him, thanking him softly as he holds out your chair for you to sit in. 

After that, the date goes smoothly. You two sit and talk for what feels like hours, ordering course after course that Izuku ensures will be fine on his credit card. You share a bottle of sake, and the restaurant is close to empty by the time the night begins to dwindle down for the two of you. 

So far, you’ve learned that Izuku is a businessman—he doesn’t specific what business exactly, but he mentioned something about numbers and finances. He runs his own company, one that he says isn’t too successful, but you’re not sure just how true that is when he doesn’t even gawk at the bill once its laid between you on the table. He’s twenty-eight, and lives by himself, his favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip, and he loves his best friend very much, despite the fact that said best friend is very much so against that idea. 

All in all, Izuku is kind, and sweet, and seems so attentive and caring. He hangs onto your every word, and actually shows interest in the things that you talk about. He asks you on another date, this time, as he walks you to the train station, and of course, you agree. 

The next couple of weeks go by relatively smooth when it comes to Izuku. He’s gentlemanly, despite the fact that he shows up late to a majority of your dates. He always makes it up by bringing flowers and your favorite snacks, offering you more and more lavish desserts and even a pair of diamond earrings by the fourth date. 

It’s a lot, at first, getting used to being spoiled by him. But Izuku makes it so easy with his charming smile and easygoing attitude. That makes it even easier to let him spoil you in other, nonmaterial ways. 

He’s a giver, through and through. That much is obvious when you take him back to your place after the fifth date, and he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, pinning you against the door to your place. You can hear your cat scurrying away from the flurry of commotion, of flying clothes and your greedy hands. Izuku pins you with his hips, a heavy bulge that he presses against you, his mouth covering every inch of exposed skin that he can. 

“My bed,” you say in between breathless kisses, but Izuku either doesn’t hear you, or straight up ignores you, as he carries you over to your couch instead. He sets you down gently, his mouth still connected with yours, a string of saliva breaking between the two of you when he finally pulls away to look at you, and you at him. His mouth is smeared with your lipgloss, panting as his pupils have blown completely out, the bright green of his eyes swallowed whole by his desire. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs under his breath, pressing another searing kiss to your mouth before he begins kissing and nipping his way down your throat. He kneels before you, one hand around your waist, the other creeping beneath the skirt you wore. Izuku mouths at your pulse point, feeling it jump under the ridges of his teeth, inhaling your scent as his thick fingers brush against the band of your panties. 

“Can I?” He asks softly against your skin, tongue darting out to taste the building sweat there. “Can I lick your pussy? Can I make you cum? Please,” 

You think you might’ve orgasmed already, without him even touching you. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your throat, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you vigorously nod your head. Izuku moans against your skin, biting softly and pulling with sharp teeth until you gasp from the pain, before soothing it over with a gentle peck of his lips. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing his way down your chest, mouthing at your nipples through your layers. He makes a promise to come back to your breasts later, his mind too busy focused on getting the taste of you forever ingrained on his tongue. Izuku pushes your skirt up until it rests on your stomach, pressing a kiss to your bellybutton, before he finally makes his way to your panty covered cunt. 

He fists the material in his grip, but instead of pulling the fabric away, he pulls it up until your lips make an obscene print against the material. Your breath catches in your throat at the slight sting, the way your panties rub against your swelling clit, but Izuku only coos at the way you wriggle under his watchful gaze. 

He kisses your lips with the same passion he did with the ones on your face. His head tilts this way and that, as he mouths at the outline, his lips pucker as he sucks your clit through the material, feeling it grow fat and thick under his tongue. He licks at you through the fabric until its soaked, until it sticks against your cunt, until the material is dark and soaked with his spit and your slick. 

You damn near cry when Izuku finally peels the material away from you, the softness of his lips encasing your own as he kisses them so sweetly, so delicately that you can’t help but roll your hips against his face. He holds you by the waist, not to keep you still, but to encourage you to use him. 

“Fuck my face,” he goads, looking at you from under his green curls, his eyes blown out with lust, his mouth dropped open as he guides your hips to roll your clit along his tongue. He pushes your cunt to his mouth, fucking your hips down as you hold eye contact, fingers grasped desperately in his hair to anchor yourself. 

Izuku watches you as you use him, as you spread your knees and open yourself up to let his tongue slide inside of your wet hole. He grips your hips tightly, lips pursing to spit on your clit before catching it on his tongue as it rolls down to messy with the slick dripping from your hole. The sight is obscene, and you feel yourself orgasming before you can even warn him. 

But Izuku doesn’t stop. You’re not even sure he knows whether or not you came, because he only bullies two fingers inside of you as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your back arches from the couch, your cry similar to something feline, as you squeeze your eyes shut from the overstimulation. You try to push his head away, gasping for breath, but Izuku only tilts his face so that he can swallow the entirety of your puffy clit. His fingers crook inside of you, stroking sensitive walls that clench tightly around his thick digits. 

“I can’t!” You whine, despite the fact that you fuck your hips down on his hand and his hot mouth until you’re breathless. 

“Please, one more. You can take it.” Izuku moans against you, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue before spitting on it once more, making your entire lower body twitch. You dig your fingers into his hair, eyes clenched shut as you plant one foot on the couch, the other against his shoulder. Izuku only holds it tenderly against him, as if his other hand isn’t pressing against that weak spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 

You cum again with a hoarse cry, your hips jerking from the intensity, tears alighting your eyes as you squeeze your eyes shut. Finally, does Izuku seem to pull back from you, licking the slick drooling from your hole with sweet little laps, massaging your lips gently with the pads of his fingers. You can hear him lick your essence from his fingers, too fucked out to even be able to watch, but your hole clenches at the sound of it, nonetheless. 

“Hope I didn’t push you too much,” Izuku mutters after a few moments of quiet, your arm slung over your eyes as you try to catch your breath. He moves your arm gently, his big verdant eyes blinking up at you, unsure if he did went a little too far during his first time with you. But you smile at him, still slightly breathless, before pulling him to your mouth. 

You kiss him, your tongue slithering against his own, lapping at the taste of yourself. You pull gently at his roots until he moans, wrapping your arms around his neck until he falls against you, head tilted to the side as he brushes his tongue over the smoothness of your teeth, your gums. You start to sneak a hand down his front to return the favor, but Izuku quickly catches your wrist, bringing it to his mouth as he kisses the pads of each and every one of your fingertips. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your skin, placing his cheek in the palm of your hand as he kisses the skin there again and again. You can’t help but frown though, rubbing his nape and the tops of his strong shoulders with your free hand. 

“Really? Are you sure?” You ask, not used to men turning down you putting your hands or mouth on them whatsoever. It’s strange, the way he turns away from you to hide his erection while still planting kisses on whatever exposed skin he can reach. He mouths at the softness of your belly, humming against the skin there when you scratch at his scalp soothingly. 

“I’m sure.” He says softly, turning to face you as he smiles reassuringly, but you’re still not buying it. A handsome businessman as himself, surely pent up from all the late night shifts and difficult clients—and he doesn’t want you to touch him back? 

“You know, I don’t mind at all.” You tell him, raking in his entire form, how gorgeous he looks on his knees before you, his mouth still wet with your cum. “Actually, I’d love to return the favor.” You whisper, cupping his cheek to pull him to you, hands reaching down to undo the buttons on his shirt, but he stops you once more. You frown. 

“I’m more of a giver than a receiver, in all honesty.” Izuku says, the tops of his cheeks hinting red beneath his freckles as he blinks up at you. A small piece of you, a tiny slither, doesn’t really believe him, but you don’t argue with him anymore. Just let him kiss you quiet, his fingers slipping inside you once more as he instantly finds that spot inside that makes you see stars. He massages it, thumb pressed to your clit as he slowly works you to another orgasm as you cry against his mouth, creaming on his fingers. 

Most of your encounters, after that, are pretty similar. Izuku still takes you on dates, but he’s getting better about being late. He brings you more and more gifts, pays for the meal, has his driver bring you both back to your place, and then he’s in between your legs for what feels like hours. He asks you to be his girlfriend after a few months of seeing each other, and you think the one sided pleasure will end there, but if anything, it gets even worse. 

Izuku buys you toys so that he can play with you, if he gets tired of using his mouth or his fingers. But he still never lets you touch him. You’ve only ever seen his cock in passing, as he jerks himself off while he touches you, or cums in his pants after having you squirt all over his face. You understand that he likes to give, but isn’t it a little strange to never want to receive? To never even want to be seen naked in front of your girlfriend? 

Was he insecure about his body? That didn’t make sense. He was jacked and muscular as hell, from what you could tell touching him through his clothing. You caught a few glances of tattoos that he had when you first met, a few more times in passing. Was he afraid that you wouldn’t like them, that you would find them unattractive? You know how Japan is when it comes to marking your body with ink, but it would never be enough to phase you to never want to see your boyfriends glorious body naked. 

Every time you tried to bring it up, Izuku came up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t get naked in front of you. He’d fuck you fully clothed, which was actually kind of hot, but it still wasn’t enough for you. To have him guiding you up and down on his cock, to messy his expensively tailored pants with your slick as you scratch up his button down shirts that you were begging to rip open. 

You figured he maybe had a really bad scar he wasn’t too proud of, or maybe an embarrassing tattoo he got when he was young. Either way, you’re determined to let your boyfriend know that its okay for him to be open and vulnerable with you as you are with him. 

Izuku likes to be on a schedule, you’ve learned about him, in these past couple of months. So you know that he must be showering the day off at the moment, and you take that moment to FaceTime him. A little manipulative, knowing that he’ll always answer the phone for you? Maybe. But it’s been months since you started dating, a year since you met, and you still haven’t seen anything past his wrists and collarbones! 

Izuku answers on the fourth ring, his eyes wide as he holds the phone up so only his chin and above are seen. He looks shifty eyed, unsure, his thick eyebrows screwed down as he forces a little smile in your direction. 

“Hey, princess. What are you doing calling me so late?” He asks, eyes darting around as he tries to maintain the phone above chin level. He does a poor job at it though, with the mirror at his back that exposed a colorful shoulder blade covered in ink. You don’t say anything though, afraid that you’ll spook him. 

“I just wanted to see you.” You tell him softly, angling the phone in a way that shows off your prettiness, knowing how weak it’ll make him. It does just that; Izuku softens his eyebrows, his smile melting into one that’s more genuine, his arm lowering ever so slightly. Your eyes trace the ink on his back, big and expansive, green and blue scales that curve all the way down to his ass. You’ve never wanted to bite something so bad. 

“Well, I just got out of the shower, so,” he trails off, his grin a little lopsided as you pout your lip at him. 

“Can you come over, actually?” You ask him, ready to get everything over it, to have it all spelled out in front of you. The hiding and the sneakiness bothers you more than the scars and the bruises on his knuckles, the little specks of blood that he forgets to clean off of his collar. Izuku’s smile dims just the slightest bit at the change of your tone, the phone lowering even more for you to see that the tattoo covers the entirety of his ass. Fuckin’ hot! 

“Everything okay, baby?” Izuku asks, toweling off his hair with his free hand, his curls still damp and limp as they straggle over the roundness of his eyes. 

“Yeah, just what I need to talk to you about should be in person.” You say softly, resting your head in your arms as you turn the camera to face the ceiling more, growing tired of holding your phone up. Izuku stops drying off his hair, his mouth setting in a thin line as his voice lowers, 

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks quietly. You only snort though and shake your head at him, at how the worry bleeds on his face, how he doesn’t instantly go murderous at the thought of you wanting to leave him. If anything, he looks more like a kicked puppy. How could he could be the leader of such an organization is definitely beyond you. 

“No,” you chuckle. “Not at all. Just come over so we can talk.” 

“Okay,” Izuku says hesitantly, his movements a lot slower this time. He tells you he’ll be at your house in thirty, but its more like fifteen with how he speeds down the empty roads so late at night. 

Izuku is there in record time, knocking incessantly at your door, his anxiety levels on high. He hasn’t been this nervous since his first kill, and something about the idea of you needing to see him in person, unplanned, at the drop of a hat, makes his stomach twist more than he cares to admit. You make him wait, just to be an asshole, for a minute longer than necessary, before you open the door to him. 

Izuku stands there, dressed more haphazardly than you have ever seen him. Usually polished and poised in his suits and expensive clothing, he instead stands in an old long sleeve tee shirt that says “t-shirt” and a pair of baggy sweatpants, worn running shoes adorning his feet. 

“Hi, my love,” you greet him with a smile, pulling him inside your place with a grip on the front of his shirt. Izuku stumbles in, never being so unsure on his feet in years, it makes him feel like he’s a teenager again. You crush your lips to his own, carding a hand through his still damp hair as you press up on your tippy toes to kiss him. He melts into the kiss, forgetting about the anxiety fluttering in his stomach, his eyes still dazed when you pull back and look at him with such a soft smile, he wondered why he was ever nervous in the first place. 

“Hey, princess.” He smiles, the soft sight dropping the moment you open your mouth. 

“I know that you’re a yakuza member, and I think its fine time to admit it, now.” You say matter of factly, your smile still there, but tight, your eyes slightly narrowed in his direction. Izuku pauses. His entire body goes stiff, everything around him going dark as he tries to process your words. After a solid minute of silence, he opens and closes his mouth once, twice, before swallowing, finally spitting his words out. 

“What? How did you…?” He trails off, finally remembering to close the door behind him as he takes a single step toward you, before stopping himself. He doesn’t want to get too close in case he’ll spook you, in case you’ve somehow set him up, in case he has to flee in seconds. It hurts to think that you’d ever betray him, but Izuku has been burned too many times. You look at him so softly though, your smile crooked as you slowly step back into your living space, inviting him in to get comfortable, like he’s always done. 

“Took me a while, but I figured it out.” You shrug, perking up when you hear the kettle going off. You patter into the kitchen on quick feet, fixing Izuku his favorite flavor of tea, as he still stands hesitantly by the door. You frown at him, pushing the mug he’s left over your house into his thick hands, before guiding him to sit on the couch. He goes along with you, although he looks more like a ghost haunting your place than he does your boyfriend at the moment. 

“The business ventures, only going out to ‘safe’ restaurants, the bruises on your knuckles, and, oh, how could I forget the big as fuck tattoo on your back?” You cock your head to him teasingly, a small smile gracing your face at the look of horror that passes over his own. 

“When did you—”

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrug, guiding him to bring the mug to his lips, his movements stiff and jerky. “When were you planning on telling me this, Izuku?” You ask him, suddenly serious, your smile falling ever so slightly as you brush a curl away from his face. 

“When you inevitably got into a shootout and came to my house for me to patch you up? When some opposing yakuza member kidnapped me because he’s holding some grudge against you?” You try to laugh it off, but it comes out as strained, the gravity of the situation finally settling on your shoulders. You love him, you really do, and you understand why he didn’t tell you in the beginning. But did he not trust you enough, even now? What would have been the catalyst for him to finally be open and honest with you? When it was bordering on too late? 

“I’m sorry.” Izuku says softly, setting the mug down as he reaches forward to grab your hands in his own. He physically relaxes when you don’t flinch away from him, despite the fact that you have to know what kind of carnage he’s created with his bare hands. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him softly, letting him pull you into his chest as he exhales deeply. He goes quiet for a few moments, as he tucks you under his chin, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, wrapping his arms tight around your flank. 

“Because I love you, and I didn’t want to scare you away.” Izuku admits quietly against your head. “I know its selfish, but you’re not like anybody I’ve ever met before, and I didn’t want our time together to ever end. I’m sorry its had to come to this.”

“To what?” You ask, pulling away from him so you can look him in the eye quizzically. “Who said we were over?” 

“Huh?” Izuku asks after a few seconds of silence, his voice beamingly loud as he lets your words sink in. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you, pulling him into you so now its your turn to hold his face against your chest, your chin resting on the top of his head. 

“I’m not breaking up with you, Izuku, I already told you that. I’m just pissed that I had to put the pieces together myself. I keep you around to think for me for a reason.” You tease, pulling his face up to watch everything slowly sink in. And to think he was in charge of one of the most dangerous ‘businesses’ in all of Japan, with a face that cute and eyes that round. You can’t help the kiss that you press to the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re not breaking up with me?” Izuku repeats slowly, sitting up in your arms so that you’re eye level with him, gripping you gently by the shoulders. You frown at him, knocking your forehead softly against his own. 

“Baby, I just said that.” You mutter, laughing when he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace, pressing his mouth to yours firmly. 

“Gods, I love you.” Izuku says against your lips, pecking you again and again until he’s kissing your teeth from how hard you laugh. “How can I make it up to you?” He asks, rubbing up and down your shoulders, watching how your face melts from one of happiness to something darker, full of lust and excitement for your new reality of open honesty with him. 

“By finally letting me see you.” You whisper, leaning in to rub your nose against his, feel his shuddering breath as he inhales the intoxicating scent of you. 

“Whatever you want. I’ll give you the world, if you asked for it.” He mumbles softly, pulling you against him until you rest in his lap before rising, already taking you to the bedroom. You press a kiss against his throat, rubbing yourself against the hardness of his stomach, unable to swallow down the moan that crawls up. 

“All I’m asking for is for you to fuck me the way I know you’ve been wanting it since you met me.” You whisper sultrily, tugging at the hair on his nape, grinning against his throat at the groan that escapes him. 

“Fuck yes,” he whispers softly before devouring you before you could even blink. 

You’re on your bed in seconds, your clothes ripped from your skin in a familiar dance that you no longer question when Izuku begins to shed his own. You watch from the center of your bed as he stands before you, his eyes glued to your own gaze as he pulls his shirt from over his head with precise movement. You feel your mouth water at the sight of his exposed stomach, the ink that curls along his breastbone, red and white and intricate. 

He slides his sweats down thick thighs, even more ink decorating the skin, his cock thick and heavy where it bobs when released from its confines. He’s a work of art; gorgeously tanned skin, freckles covering more parts of him than you even thought possible, his muscles there but bulging deliciously when he flexes absentmindedly under your watchful and intent gaze. He’s gorgeous, more so than you could have ever imagined, and it makes your mouth water even more that he’s finally, finally, bared himself to you. 

“Let me touch you,” you whisper, inviting him over with a crook of your finger. Izuku obeys, crawling on the bed toward you until he’s laid against your pillows, his body elongated and exposed like a statue made of some greater god. You can only salivate at the sight of him, press a kiss to his mouth until you work your way down, down, down with nips and licks, your teeth sharp and stinging, your tongue soothing and gentle. Izuku breathes a shaky moan of your name when you finally make your way to his thick cock, heavy and red at the tip, leaking precum with every breath you pass against it. 

You hold his thickness in your palm, kissing the leaking head with soft lips, making him groan underneath his breath. He can only watch you, carding a hand through your hair until he cups the base of your skull, guiding his cock ever so gently into your mouth. You welcome him in, lips pursed to suck the precum from his leaking tip, mouth suckled tight over the thickness of him. He fills your mouth perfectly, your head slowly bobbing down until his tip tickles the back of your throat. 

You moan at his taste, one hand holding his base as you work your spit where your mouth can’t reach, the other hand reaching up to cradle his heavy balls in your palm. Izuku’s hips jerk at that with a groan, his head tilting back, although he refuses to take his eyes off of you. The way your naked body fits so seamlessly against his inked one, how the fatness of his cock creates a lewd bulge against your cheek, how your eyes water when you try to swallow him even deeper. 

You pop off of his cock with a breath, jerking him using the mixture of your saliva and his precum, ducking your head underneath his heavy length to lap at his sac. Izuku’s stomach caves in from his gasp, his eyes rolling momentarily into his head as he jerks his hips, before he finds it in himself to meet your gaze again. You smile around the fullness of one of his balls in your mouth, the other hand jerking his cock in slow, languid motions. 

“Wanna cum inside you,” Izuku says in a gasp, tugging at your head to pull you off of him. You come off with a wet pop, crawling up his body with his firm yet gently grip on your skull, smiling when he drops open his mouth when you meet him. You fill his mouth with your spit and his precum, a moan bubbling up in his throat as he presses you against him, kissing you with such fervor that you feel like you’re being consumed whole. Izuku grinds his cock against the bottom half of your stomach, pulling you tight against him as he rolls the both of you to your sides. 

Without breaking away from your kiss, Izuku hikes your leg over his hip until he’s slotted perfectly between you, gliding his cock between your soft lips. He presses in, pushing and pushing as you gasp and whine into his mouth, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as he holds you firm against him, your bodies slotted perfectly together. With a heavy thrust does Izuku finally bury the fullness of his cock inside of you, his pubes brushing against your clit, his thick hand resting on your lower back to keep you pressed against him. 

“You never said you loved me back earlier,” he says softly against your mouth, lazily kissing you as you trace the scars on his back and shoulders. You grin against him, rolling your hips ever so slightly, gasping when Izuku can’t help the cant of his hips to press his cock even deeper inside of your slick hole. 

“I love you,” you whisper, tongue lolling against his own as Izuku slowly starts to rock his hips against you, filling you up over and over again until the bed creaks minutely. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

Izuku only rubs your clit with thick fingers as you repeat yourself, tucking your face into his throat as you tremble all over, reaching your climax before you can even process it. Izuku only keeps the same pace, never letting you fully come down from your high as he holds you so tight to him, that your skin melds with his own, that your sins become his, that your flesh is one. And when he cums inside of you with a shaky gasp, your walls fluttering around him from another orgasm, does he finally release the breath he’s been holding since the moment he realized he loved you. Which, frankly, was the moment he first laid eyes on you. 

thank you all for reading! and a special thanks to @katsukikitten for supporting me so much over these past few years. likes/comments/reblogs are so greatly appreciated! <3

[moanz111]

i stumbled upon this while scrolling and it's such a well-written post that i just had to share my thought on this too!

first of all, i've been a fanfic reader since i was very young so i know what it feels like to be on the other side. i've been anxious and nervous to reblog or write comments and have never even thought of messaging the authors i read and liked just because i was terrified of being perceived. but trust me, writers are so incredibly grateful for every little interaction they get. i know it can be nerve wracking but you will never be judged for what you have to say! every single piece of feedback and opinion i get means the whole world to me and every time i get a comment, a reblog or an ask makes me so happy, it seriously makes my whole day.

i've been on the writer side since summer 2023 and a couple of months ago i came back after an extremely long hiatus and was so scared and worried because almost a year had passed since i had last promised updates yet i had failed to come back due to many reasons. but then i saw that people still cared and even though i lost most of my readers from back when i first started writing, i was so happy to see that new people were getting interested and were actually willing to talk to me and share their feedbacks. so thank you, to those who have been doing that <3

i don't judge people who decide to stay silent but trust me, there's nothing to fear! writers don't bite, we're human too so of course, naturally we thrive off interactions too, just like anyone else. there isn't a barrier between the two groups - all of us are fans of the same things and share the same interests, this is always a two way relationship.

writing is my hobby and something i like doing but sometimes the silence is killing me especially after coming back from a hiatus 😭 i don't write for notes, i do it for my own enjoyment but still, hearing something nice about your works always feels good and validating!

and about the genres - i see too what's more read and what's popular but it's so sad to hear that authors force themselves to write something that they don't originally really want to just to have someone read their stories. every story is worth giving a chance and authors shouldn't be required to fit themselves into certain boxes just so people pay attention. no one can be forced to read anything of course but my whole point is to be kind to authors and give them a chance because sometimes you can find such gems when you least expect it.

of course, there will always be genres that are more generally liked but we need diversity too so please, writers do what you want and what you love - the right people will appreciate it.

and on that note...i've been mostly writing smaus/texts so i feel like like sometimes it's even harder to get feedback and i think these are not as read as before but i still think it's worth keeping even this genre alive just because it's so fun (at least to me).

i just hope our community here stays alive for longer and starts thriving because it's so sad to see so many people leave :(

just be brave, interact and encourage others to do so too! support your favourite writers because they all are amazing and deserve all the love in this world!

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[asksonicverse]

You dont need to answer but I just wanted to tell you I adore Paradox being like "I hate all of them except" and then listing everyone except like 2 guys, honey you don't hate *all* of them you expressly don't hate *most of them*

Extremely charming characterization i adore it

[Creator Special number 2!]

So glad someone noticed that, I was originally going to have him name EVERYONE except Boost but then I was like “nah, Mania is just too annoying for Paradox to tolerate him”

And thanks! I’m trying to be… consistent with my characterization of each of them and stay in line with canon but like… URGH sometimes I want to deviate so bad just to indulge but I resist!

Needless to say tho, prism is probably going to get more affectionate later on. Rewatched Sonic Prime again and bro is a cutie patootie!

Headcanons… headcanons… hmm

Well, starting with the obvious, Paradox goes to therapy as I’ve mentioned which I think is hilarious. He and Lance are the only Shadows who really have their shit together which is why I think Sonadow works well for them? (we stan healthy relationships guys)

I do head canon that Eight doesn’t like being touched really at all anymore. After the metal virus, he grew so used to the fact that he couldn’t touch anyone that it sorta just stuck. He does it to save people, but not anything more. :(

And while I’m a sucker for the Trans Sonic HC I decided not to implement it in this particular AU!

I really want to include Captain Sonic and Shadow, but I haven’t played nor watched a serious play through of the game. (I’ve only really listened to a bit of the Snapcube dub..)

can someone tell me if Shadow is a Barista or a Mechanic in that game btw?? I google it, nothing pops up. I could’ve sworn there was something about a mechanic.

Uhh I LOVE Sonic Frontiers, fire game. If I include that one, it’ll ALSO be Sonamy since I’m pretty sure that game takes place before SA2 in canon?

I’m trying to keep the Sonics and Shadows balanced but I’d love to add Generations Shadow and Sonic. Just thinking of names already I get “Doom” for Shadow and “Emerald” for Sonic. (Referencing the fake emerald from their interaction in the shadow story)

Unfortunately I haven’t seen the Archie comics or Sonic Underground so I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Someone also asked about if I’d ever include different AU’s: maybe if those AU creators gave me permission I’d be down to do a collab for a few asks or something!

Nope!

I dunno I just..! … how do I do? I’m fast. And you’re slow. That’s how I did it. /ref

Ahahah just kidding! But I am very fast. A few years ago I convinced myself I was a “slow drawer” because I was in a discord server with someone I looked up to (and holy cheese they could draw out fully articulate sketches in like 30 seconds!)

So I got insecure and taught myself to draw really fast. So now I just.. zoom! This does have a terrible draw back where I will very frequently forget smaller details.

Like if you look at half the posts, Shadow is missing his eyeliner and other markings frequently.

THIS IS JUST HILARIOUS TO ME YOU GUYS. PLEASE—

I’ve gotten SO many asks in my box about using Maria to calm the Shadows down or trying to give Shadows “Maria plushies”

Imagine you’re having a bad day and you get a plushie of your dead sibling thrown at you??? LMFAOOOO

I CANT I CANT I CANT PUT THEM THROUGH THAT 💔 Also I see every single ask.

“Do you all like Latinas” and “sonic which shadow is the hottest/shadow which sonic is the hottest” have all been engraved in my brain

Was joking with a friend on how that second question would come out LMFAOO

Previous | Next

[laswells-ashtray]

Soo uhm... autistic ghost if you do that? I mean that man is autism creature. And I love him. And need him being a silly little autistic guy. Like headcannons, and how it'd be in his relationships with people. Like romantic sexual or platonic? Please and thank you.

Ghost doesn't think he shows many symptoms of having autism because he's commonly told "I'd never have guessed", however, that's typically because the people telling him that haven't spent enough time with him to pick up on anything.

Eventually, the people he's closest to notice things but they never bring it up. Notable but not worth making him self-conscious about. That's what John calls it.

Simon doesn't like the texture of some of his clothes, he'll brush up against John and then automatically reach away to wipe his hand on his own t-shirt or his cargos. John stops wearing certain shirts around him, and sticks to the softer, worn fabrics that Simon doesn't mind touching when it's reasonable for him to do so.

He notices that his lieutenant stocks up on certain foods that he likes, always the same ones before they spontaneously switch up after almost a year and he doesn't tend to go back to them. He tries to keep whatever snack or drink it is in his office so that on the days that Simon wants to crawl out of his skin, he can offer the other man something and maybe somewhere quiet to sit in away from everyone else.

Gaz thinks for a while that maybe Ghost just doesn't like him, but that's alright, they're coworkers and they don't have to be friends. He doesn't seem to like Soap either. That's until he picks up on something, Soap and he can get loud after missions. The adrenaline is still pulsing through their system and they joke around, getting rowdy like two lads in the back of a classroom. Ghost tends to stay quiet, only speaking if spoken to and even then it's a faint mutter. He gets twitchy the louder Gaz and Soap get, his breathing becomes consciously slow and his eyes narrow until he's glaring daggers into whatever is opposite him.

Then it clicks, the man is overstimulated. Overstimulated and unwilling to say so despite his own blatant discomfort. And all it takes is keeping quiet after missions, the conversations between him and Soap become soft whispers and the stabbing tension in Ghost's shoulders lessens noticeably. It's after that, that Ghost starts talking to him more, friendlier and willing to joke around. Gaz knows they aren't exactly the closest of friends, Simon Riley is a puzzle he doesn't have the decades of solving like Price does but it's something and that's good enough.

John and Nikolai have to adapt certain aspects of their relationship when it opens up to include Simon, something that both of them are more than willing to do to ensure the comfort of everyone involved.

Simon is open to touch in varying ways. If he's the one to initiate contact then he could end up sandwiched between the captain and the pilot without complaint. He'll grumble and bat at them half-heartedly, all for show but all it takes is Nikolai kissing his cheek and John nuzzling his jaw to shut him up.

Some days a simple hand on his shoulder is too much, Simon will tense up and he won't say a word about it but they can hear how his breath hitches. Those days they won't touch him, if they sit down together on the couch tne he'll sit down on the tattered, ancient swivel chair by the window. Sometimes he'll brave sticking his legs out and poking John's thighs with his toes, other times he won't. It's up to him and they see no reason to push.

It can be a mix other days, a kiss on the cheek might be fine but when Nikolai plasters himself over Simon's back it's just too much at once. He'll retreat tactically and brush a thumb over his cheek instead.

Sex is different than they're used to but it's a welcome change. There's no more lying around and falling asleep disgusting, leaving it a mess to be dealt with the next day. They become adept at clean-up, and Simon prefers to shower after they're done. Sometimes he'll drag one of them in alongside him, other days he needs the moment alone. Make no mistake, Simon is usually the filthiest out of the three of them. he does things with this tongue that have left John's ears ringing and he can haul Nikolai around without thinking twice. But he needs time to decompress and he'll take it as a moment in the shower or a post-shower cigarette.

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 5

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: A matchmaking event, a reckless plan, and a game that cuts a little too deep—because playing with fire always has consequences

wc: 8.3k (Chapter 5/?)

a/n: I'm reading all the reviews you're leaving, and it's filling me with so much joy, seriously, thank you so much! I promise I'll eventually get around to replying to them all, but for now, just know that I've seen them, I appreciate every single one, and they are absolutely fuelling me to get these chapters out faster. If I had to stare at this chapter any longer, I was genuinely going to throw myself off a cliff, so here it is before I lose my mind. I don’t know, I hope you like it!

And just a heads-up—ratings have officially gone up 🔥 y'all better handle this with care.

Ch. 4 ch. 6

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of routine and mild frustration. I’d gotten used to maneuvering on crutches though not without my fair share of near-disasters and before long, I was downgraded to a boot. A clunky, annoying boot, but it was better than nothing. And now, I was almost out of it, counting down the days until I could finally move like a normal person again.

Lilia had been... Lilia. Ever present, always hovering just enough to make sure I wasn’t doing anything too reckless, but never crossing the line into anything that could be considered more. There were lingering touches, soft smiles, and the occasional meaningful glance, but nothing had really progressed.

And, honestly? That was fine.

Mostly.

Between the shop being surprisingly busy and my friends constantly roping me into their latest schemes, fundraisers, work drama, and questionable life choices. I barely had time to dwell on it. I liked keeping busy, helping where I could, and throwing myself into distraction after distraction. It was easier than thinking about how much I wanted Lilia but didn’t know how to move things forward.

Some days, it felt like we were stuck in this comfortable, frustrating limbo. We'd laugh, we’d bicker, we'd work side by side in the shop, but there was always this invisible line neither of us was willing to cross.

Still, things were good.

Lilia was still a mystery I was determined to solve, even if she sometimes acted like an impenetrable fortress. But there were moments, tiny cracks in the walls she put up. The way she’d refill my tea without asking, or how she’d linger at the end of my shift, pretending to read while really just making sure I got home safely. The way she’d watch me when she thought I wasn’t looking, like she was thinking about something.

And those moments? They were enough to keep me going. For now.

One afternoon, as I hobbled around the shop stocking shelves, I sighed dramatically. "Lilia, please, I cannot wait to be out of this boot. I feel like Frankenstein’s monster."

Lilia smirked from behind the counter, flipping through an old grimoire. "You only have to wait till this afternoon."

I shot her a glare. "Rude."

She chuckled, but there was that usual softness behind it, the kind that made my heart skip a little. "You'll be back to your reckless self soon enough. I'm sure I'll regret it."

I grinned. "Oh, you will. First thing I'm doing is dancing barefoot on the counter just to spite you."

Lilia rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she just said, "I'll keep the first aid kit ready."

I snorted, limping toward the register. "You should always have that thing on standby with me around."

"Trust me," she said dryly. "I do."

The bell above the shop door jingled, and before I could process it, Jen and Agatha waltzed in like they owned the place.

"Y/n!" Jen beamed. "Still hobbling around, I see."

Agatha leaned on the counter, eyeing Lilia with that devilish glint in her eye. "And, you're still under Lilia's watchful eye, huh?"

Lilia arched a brow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Jen smirked at me. "Oh, it's not a bad thing at all."

I groaned. "Guys, please."

Agatha ignored me, grinning. "Anyway, y/n, you up for helping me with something later?"

I sighed, already knowing I was about to get roped into something ridiculous. "What is it this time?"

Jen wiggled her brows. "Oh, you know, just a little... matchmaking event."

I blinked. "No."

Lilia, to my absolute horror, looked very interested. "Matchmaking?"

Agatha smirked. "Yeah. You in?"

Lilia, without missing a beat, looked directly at me and said, "I think y/n should go."

My jaw dropped. "What?!"

Lilia’s lips curled into that maddening smirk. "It could be... fun."

I groaned, slamming my head onto the counter. "I hate all of you."

Lilia just sipped her tea, looking far too pleased with herself. "You'll survive, baby."

“What exactly is a matchmaking event?”

Jen leaned against the counter, grinning like the devil she clearly was. "Oh, y/n," she purred, eyes sparkling with mischief. "A matchmaking event is exactly what it sounds like."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And why, exactly, do you think I need to attend one?"

Agatha smirked, completely ignoring my very valid concern. "It's a charity event, actually. Think of it like speed dating, but fancier, cocktails, music, a little light mingling." She waved a hand dramatically. "People will bid on dates, there'll be matchmaking games, the whole romantic shebang."

I groaned. "You have to be kidding me."

Billy, who had apparently appeared out of thin air (or just snuck in without me noticing), clapped his hands together. "Oh no, she's not kidding, and I am so excited for this."

Lilia, who had been sipping her tea silently this whole time, finally spoke up, eyes fixed on me in that infuriatingly calm way she had. "I think it’s an excellent idea."

I gaped at her. "Et tu, Lilia?!"

She shrugged, setting her cup down with a smirk. "You did say you were bored."

Agatha nodded sagely. "Exactly! And what better way to pass the time than by meeting some... interesting people?"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Oh my God, no. I am not getting auctioned off to the highest bidder like a damn prize goat."

Jen laughed. "Oh, come on. It’s for charity! Think of it as... networking."

Billy wiggled his brows. "With benefits."

Lilia quirked an eyebrow, but there was something sharp in her eyes now, something that made my stomach flip. "You never know, y/n," she said smoothly, "maybe you'll find someone... intriguing."

I stared at her, heat rising to my cheeks. Was she actually encouraging this?

I pointed an accusing finger at the coven. "You’re all just doing this to watch me suffer, aren’t you?"

Agatha grinned. "Absolutely."

Billy winked. "One hundred percent."

Jen shrugged. "You should be used to it by now."

I sighed, sinking onto the nearest chair. "This is actually my worst nightmare."

Lilia, standing far too composed and far too smug, leaned against the counter. "You'll do fine, baby."

And the way she said it, soft, teasing, but with just enough of an edge, made me wonder if she was enjoying this a little too much.

I stared at Lilia for a long moment, watching the way she casually sipped her tea, completely unbothered by the absolute chaos the coven was throwing at me. Mixed signals? Oh, she was full of them. She’d spent weeks hovering, making sure I didn’t overdo it, looking after me with a quiet protectiveness, and now she was totally fine with me flirting with other people?

Okay, Lilia.

Fine. If she wanted to play it cool, I could play it colder.

With a wicked smirk, I crossed my arms and leaned back into my chair. "Alright," I said, shrugging. "I'll do it."

The coven exploded.

"YES!" Billy practically fist-pumped.

Jen beamed. "Oh, this is going to be so good."

Agatha cackled. "I knew you'd come around."

But I didn’t take my eyes off Lilia, watching for any flicker of emotion behind that carefully composed exterior of hers. She raised a brow, looking mildly impressed but ultimately unfazed. “Good for you,” she said, nodding. “You’ll enjoy yourself.”

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I smiled sweetly. “Yeah, maybe I’ll meet someone intriguing, like you said.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Perhaps.”

Ugh.

I was going to do this. Not because I wanted to, but because if Lilia was going to keep up this whole mysterious and unattainable older woman thing, then I was going to make her watch me flirt with someone else.

By the time I got back from the hospital that evening, boot-free and feeling like I had reclaimed my dignity, I was on a mission.

I went all out.

I pulled out one of my best dresses, the kind that hugged in all the right places, paired it with strappy low heels— I wasn’t about to push my luck after just recovering from a broken leg — and topped it all off with red lipstick. My hair was styled to perfection. 

I looked in the mirror and grinned. Damn, I missed dressing up.

Before I left, I snapped a quick selfie and sent it to the group chat.

Me: Ready to break hearts tonight.

Billy responded instantly.

Billy: BABE. I AM DEAD.

Jen: GIRL, THEY WON'T SURVIVE YOU.

Agatha: Show Lilia. Right now.

I rolled my eyes, typing back.

Me: No way. Let her suffer.

I grabbed my clutch, took one last glance in the mirror, and smirked.

Lilia Calderu had no idea what she was in for.

I arrived at the venue, the heels clicking confidently against the pavement as I made my way inside. The place was fancier than I expected, soft lighting, elegant decor, and the kind of crowd that screamed money meets desperation.

I spotted Agatha immediately, standing near the bar with a drink in hand, watching me approach with an impressed smirk. Her eyes swept over me from head to toe, and she let out a low whistle. “Damn, y/n. If I weren’t rooting for Lilia, I’d bid on you myself.”

I rolled my eyes, planting myself in front of her. “Alright, what do I need to do?” I asked, folding my arms.

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Eager, are we?”

I sighed, eyeing the bustling room. “Let’s just say I’ve been encouraged.”

She chuckled, handing me a glass of champagne like she hadn’t practically dragged me here. “Alright, here’s how it works. There are three... let’s call them options.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Go on.”

Agatha held up a perfectly manicured finger. “Option one—the bidding auction. People bid for a date with you.”

I groaned. “Hard pass.”

Ignoring me, she lifted a second finger. “Option two—the matchmaking questionnaire. You fill it out, they set you up with someone they think is compatible.”

I stared at her. “Do I look like someone who’s here for a deep connection?”

Agatha smirked. “No, you look like someone here to make a certain divination witch jealous as hell.”

I didn’t deny it. “And option three?”

Agatha smirked, holding up the final finger. “And then there’s option three... mingling, flirting, working the room.” She gestured grandly at the crowd. “And, honestly, that’s where you shine.”

I sighed, taking a slow sip of champagne. “And which one exactly do you want me to do?”

Agatha’s grin stretched impossibly wider. “Oh, baby, I didn’t bring you here to find your soulmate.” She winked. “I brought you here to make Lilia Calderu jealous as hell. So, option three it is.”

I arched a brow. “And if she doesn’t show up?”

Agatha shrugged. “Then at least you’ll have some fun and free champagne.”

I sighed, finishing my drink. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Agatha grinned, looping her arm through mine. “That’s the spirit. Now, go mingle. And remember, eye contact, light touches, and laugh at everything.”

I groaned but let her pull me toward the crowd. This was going to be... interesting.

I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back and putting on my most dazzling smile. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

Armed with another glass of champagne and Agatha’s ridiculous advice bouncing around in my head, I stepped into the crowd, letting myself glide from conversation to conversation. I laughed, I touched arms lightly, I made just enough eye contact to keep people interested without giving too much away.

And through it all, one thought lingered in the back of my mind.

Please show up, Lilia.

I scanned the room subtly, pretending to be fully invested in whatever some guy in a ridiculous suit was rambling about, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could feel the absence of her. Could feel the weight of her not being here.

The evening dragged on, and despite the flattering attention I was getting, more than I knew what to do with, there was an ache in my chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

I found myself standing near a group of women, effortlessly charming my way through another conversation, when I caught myself staring toward the entrance for the millionth time.

Nothing.

I sighed internally, feeling my excitement wane just a little.

But just as I turned back to my conversation, I caught a shift in the air. A presence.

And then I saw her.

Lilia Calderu, standing in the doorway like she owned the place, dressed in a simple but devastatingly effective black dress, nothing overly elegant, just effortlessly put together, the fabric skimming her figure in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her dark curls were loosely pinned up, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and those brown eyes of hers scanned the room with sharp intent, missing nothing.

My heart stopped.

She looked... incredible.

Her gaze locked onto me almost instantly, and I saw the way her eyes flickered over my dress, my posture, the easy way I was leaning against the table with a glass of champagne in hand and a smile that may have been a little too smug.

For a second, I thought she might turn around and leave, but instead, she walked in with the kind of calm, deliberate grace that made my stomach twist into knots.

Agatha, appearing by my side out of nowhere, whispered, “And there she is.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I thought she wasn’t coming.”

Agatha smirked. “She didn’t think she was coming. But then she realised she couldn’t let you have all the fun without her.”

I watched as Lilia made her way through the crowd, her expression unreadable, but her eyes, her eyes, never left me.

I forced myself to smirk, turning back to the group I was talking to, making a show of tossing my hair over my shoulder and laughing lightly at something someone said. But my heart was pounding.

Lilia Calderu was here. And she was watching me.

Game on.

I took a slow sip of my champagne, letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue as I kept my posture relaxed, my smile effortlessly charming. I could feel her gaze burning into me from across the room, sharp and assessing, but I didn’t look her way, not yet.

If she wanted to watch, I’d give her a damn show.

“So, y/n,” the woman beside me purred, leaning in just a little too close. “You never told me what you do for a living.”

I smiled, tilting my head coyly. “Oh, you know... a little bit of everything,” I said smoothly, trailing a finger along the rim of my glass. “Keeps life interesting.”

I swore I could hear Lilia’s scoff from across the room, and it took everything in me not to grin.

Agatha, who was lingering nearby, nudged me under the table with her foot. “Subtle,” she whispered, her tone practically dripping with glee. “She’s watching you like a hawk.”

I shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “Let her.”

I felt her familiar presence before I even saw her. Lilia’s energy was intense, heavy and magnetic, drawing people in without her even trying. And then, just as I was laughing at something unremarkable, I saw her appear at the edge of my vision, standing beside the group with her arms crossed, a neutral expression on her face.

But her eyes? Her eyes told an entirely different story.

They flicked from the woman leaning too close to me, to my lips, and then, finally, locked onto mine.

I arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Lilia,” I greeted, taking another slow sip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into that maddeningly subtle smirk. “Neither did I.”

Agatha, not missing a beat, grinned and chimed in. “Lilia! Finally decided to join the fun?”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t leave mine as she responded, “I suppose someone had to keep an eye on y/n.”

“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine on my own,” I shot back, playful but pointed.

Lilia’s lips twitched. “So I see.” Her gaze dragged over me, slowly, taking in every inch of my dress, my posture, the way I was standing just close enough to the woman next to me to imply interest.

I held her gaze, my heart racing. “You know, you could’ve just stayed home,” I teased, my voice dropping just a bit. “No need to check up on me.”

Lilia stepped closer, leaning in just enough that I could catch the faint scent of her perfume. “Maybe I just wanted to watch?”

I swallowed, my bravado slipping just slightly.

Agatha, watching the exchange like it was the best thing to ever happen to her, nudged me again and whispered, just for me to hear, “You’re losing, babe.”

I straightened up, regaining my composure, and smirked at Lilia. “Well, since you’re here... maybe I should introduce you to some people.” I gestured to the woman beside me, who looked suddenly very interested in this new development. “This is—”

But before I could finish, Lilia reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering a second too long. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.

“Enjoy yourself, baby,” she murmured, her voice low and full of something I couldn’t quite place. “Don’t let me stop you.”

And with that, she stepped back, leaving me absolutely reeling.

Agatha burst into laughter. “Oh my God, she is so playing you.”

I clenched my jaw, staring at Lilia’s retreating figure as she casually wandered toward the bar, looking as cool and composed as ever.

Oh, hell no.

I was not about to let Lilia Calderu waltz in here, throw me off my game with a well-timed smirk and a touch that lingered just enough to make my brain short-circuit. If she thought she could walk away with the upper hand, she had another thing coming.

I plastered on my best grin and turned back to the woman next to me, who was still watching the whole exchange with keen interest. “Sorry about that,” I said smoothly, letting my fingers graze lightly over the rim of my glass. “Old friend.”

Lilia, who had just reached the bar, tilted her head slightly at my words, clearly listening in.

The woman smiled, intrigued. “Old friends who stare at you like they’d rather eat you alive?”

I laughed, but it wasn’t entirely fake. “She’s... complicated.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lilia's shoulders tense slightly. Gotcha.

Agatha, still lingering with a devilish glint in her eye, whispered in my ear, “Atta girl. Make her work for it.”

With renewed confidence, I turned my full attention to my current company, leaning in just enough to make it seem like I was entirely absorbed in our conversation. I laughed at all the right moments, let my hand casually brush against hers, and even threw in a little coy lip bite for good measure.

And Lilia saw every second of it.

I could practically feel her eyes on me, dark and heavy, her carefully composed façade slipping by degrees.

When I dared a glance her way, I caught her watching with that unreadable expression, cool, detached, but with a flicker of something darker beneath. Jealousy? Annoyance? I wasn’t sure, but I liked it.

Still, she didn’t approach.

Fine. If she wanted to play it that way, I’d push a little harder.

I tilted my head back, laughing at something the woman said, making sure my posture screamed confidence, my neck arched just enough to be noticeable. And then, as casually as I could manage, I said loudly enough for Lilia to hear, “You know, I was a little nervous about coming tonight, but... I think I’m really enjoying myself.”

From across the room, I saw Lilia’s grip tighten around her glass.

Agatha, ever the enabler, had appeared at the bar, bit back a grin and leaned against the bar near Lilia. “So, Lilia,” she said innocently, “what brings you here tonight? Surely not jealousy?”

Lilia’s eyes flickered with something sharp, but she simply took a sip of her drink, her voice smooth as silk. “Just making sure y/n doesn’t get herself into too much trouble.”

“Oh, I think she’s handling herself just fine,” Agatha teased, shooting me a wink.

I smirked, running a hand down my hip and throwing Lilia a pointed glance before turning back to my conversation.

But before I could say another word, Lilia appeared at my side, moving silently and suddenly. Her presence was commanding, and I felt it in every nerve of my body.

“Y/n,” she said smoothly, her voice velvety and low. “A word?”

The woman next to me raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” she said, clearly amused. “I think I’ll leave you to it.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding, but I kept my smirk firmly in place. “Of course, Lilia.”

She led me away from the crowd, her hand resting lightly on my lower back, just enough to own the situation, just enough to remind me exactly who I was dealing with.

Once we were in a quieter corner, she turned to face me, crossing her arms and raising a brow. “Having fun?”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “I was.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but her gaze sharpened, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “You’re walking a fine line, baby.”

I tilted my head, stepping closer, pushing just enough. “Maybe I like the edge.”

Her eyes darkened, and for the first time all night, I wondered if I’d pushed too far. But instead of pulling away, she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, sending shivers straight down my spine.

“Careful,” she murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth. “You might find yourself wanting something you can’t have.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my cool. “Maybe I’m tired of waiting.”

Lilia’s expression remained unreadable, her head tilting just slightly.  “Getting ahead of yourself, baby.”

I exhaled sharply, biting back the urge to roll my eyes. “And you love dragging this out, don’t you?”

She made a soft, thoughtful sound, her gaze sweeping over me like she was deciding just how much she wanted to let me have. “Mmm. Maybe. Or maybe you’re seeing something that isn’t there.”

Heat curled in my stomach, frustration and want tangled together, her eyes flicked down to my lips for half a second, just long enough for me to notice, but before I could say anything, she let out a slow, almost teasing sigh and stepped back, putting space between us. “Go on, baby. Enjoy your night.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me reeling.

Agatha appeared at my side almost immediately. “So... that looked intense.”

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. “I think I might be losing.”

And honestly? I didn’t want to play this game anymore.

Agatha grinned. “No, babe. You’re both losing.”

I groaned. “Great.”

I huffed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as I watched Lilia disappear back into the crowd with that same frustrating grace she always carried. I turned to Agatha, my lips pursed in irritation. “You know what? I don’t want to do this matchmaking thing.”

Agatha, ever perceptive, didn’t even argue. She just sipped her drink and gave me a knowing nod. “Of course, no problem.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smirked, leaning against the bar. “I know when you’ve had enough, y/n. And right now, you look like you're two seconds away from murdering someone.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. “Yeah, I think I just... I need to go home.”

Agatha nodded, patting my arm. “Good call. Go home, take a bubble bath, and—”

“Eat my feelings?”

Agatha grinned. “Exactly.”

I gave her a small smile, grateful she wasn’t pushing. “Thanks, Aggie.”

She winked. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll gossip later.”

I nodded, weaving my way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances and the lingering presence of Lilia somewhere in the room.

By the time I stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a long breath. The tension that had been building inside me all evening eased slightly, but the frustration was still simmering beneath the surface.

Because despite everything, the flirting, the teasing, the stupid mixed signals, Lilia still managed to keep me at arm's length. And I was tired of playing the waiting game.

As I made my way home, heels clicking against the pavement, I couldn't help but feel like I had just walked away from a fight I wasn't even sure I wanted to win anymore.

I made it home, kicking off my heels the second I stepped through the door. The silence of my apartment felt jarring after the noise and chaos of the event, but it was exactly what I needed. No prying eyes, no teasing coven, and most importantly, no Lilia.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one go. The adrenaline from earlier was fading, leaving me feeling tired, annoyed, and... a little disappointed.

The evening had started off fun, with the whole “make Lilia jealous” plan in full swing. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being about teasing her and started feeling like something else. Something heavier.

I wanted her to chase me. I wanted her to want me.

But instead, she just kept pulling back, staying in that frustrating space of almost.

I flopped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts spiral.

Maybe she really doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe the age gap is too much for her.

Maybe I’m just a fun distraction to her.

I groaned, tossing a pillow over my face. “Ugh, stupid.”

Just as I was debating whether to text Agatha and unload my feelings, my phone buzzed against my thigh.

I grabbed it, half expecting it to be one of my friends checking in, but my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.

Lilia.

I stared at it for a beat, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Was she going to scold me for leaving early? Check on me? Or just... toy with me some more?

Taking a deep breath, I swiped to answer. “Hello?”

There was a pause, then Lilia’s voice, soft and measured. “You left.”

I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I did. I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

Another pause. “I see.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you call just to state the obvious, Lilia?”

She hummed, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “Maybe.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Lilia.”

She sighed, and for a moment, I thought she might actually say something real. But then—

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

My heart did that stupid little flutter thing, but I pushed it down, forcing a casual tone. “I’m fine. I always am.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a second, I thought maybe she’d hung up. But then—

“I shouldn’t have encouraged you to go,” she admitted quietly.

I swallowed, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. “Why did you?”

She didn’t answer right away, and when she did, it was softer than I expected. “Because I wanted to see what you’d do.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling frustration bubble up again. “And? Did you enjoy the show?”

Lilia exhaled, something close to a chuckle, but there was an edge to it. “More than I should have.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Another pause. “So I’ve been told.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Go to bed, Lilia.”

“You too, baby,” she murmured, and before I could come up with a snarky response, the call ended.

My heart pounding, frustration and something else, something deeper, swirling in my chest.

I stared at my phone for all of ten seconds before I muttered, "No, fuck this." Without thinking any further, I tapped Lilia’s number and called her back.

She answered almost immediately, her voice a little softer, maybe a little surprised. “y/n?”

“You’re confusing,” I blurted out, pacing back and forth in my living room, frustration bubbling over. “You are so confusing, Lilia.”

Silence.

I didn’t care, I was on a roll now. “You flirt with me, you pull away, you get all soft and caring, and then you act like none of it happened. And I keep trying to play it cool, keep waiting for you to make up your damn mind, but you never do.”

She didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t stopping.

“And fuck you and this whole age gap excuse, because that’s what it is now, Lilia. It’s an excuse. You keep telling yourself that’s the problem, but it’s not. You flirt with me, you want me, and then you shut me out like it never happened. I’m tired, Lilia. I’m so tired.”

I paused, breathing hard, and then it hit me. My eyes widened as I blurted, “And you never even gave me my underwear back!”

I was hysterical. 

I could hear Lilia inhale sharply on the other end, and for a second, I thought she might say something, anything. But all I got was silence.

And that silence was worse than if she’d yelled at me.

I swallowed hard, my anger deflating into something... heavier. More raw. My voice softened, and I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling the weight of it settle in my chest. “I shouldn’t be yelling at you.”

Still, she said nothing, and it was starting to hurt more than I thought it could.

I took a shaky breath. “I’m done, Lilia. I can’t take any more.” My throat tightened, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “It hurts too much.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of my breathing and the faint static of the line. Then, finally, Lilia’s voice came through, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“Y/n...”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Don’t.”

Another pause. Then she sighed, long and slow, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well... you did.”

Silence again, and I could almost imagine her, standing in her shop, looking down at the floor with that troubled frown she always wore when she was thinking too hard.

After another beat, she said, “I—” but she cut herself off, like she couldn’t finish the sentence.

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes. “Lilia, I can’t do this anymore. Not unless you actually want me. Not unless you’re willing to admit it.”

There was a pause. Then, finally, so quietly it nearly shattered me, she said, “I do.”

I froze, my heart slamming in my chest. “What?”

“I do,” Lilia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I didn’t know how to.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

There was a long silence before she finally admitted, “Because I’m scared.”

I felt something shift inside me, my anger melting into something softer. “Scared of what?”

Lilia sighed again, and this time, she sounded... tired. Vulnerable. “Of how much I want you.”

My lips parted, my throat suddenly dry. “Then stop running,” I said softly. “Please, Lilia. Just... stop.”

She was quiet for another long moment, and then— “Come over.”

My breath hitched. “What?”

“Come over,” she said again, a little stronger this time. “Now.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. “Lilia, are you sure—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “Please.”

And just like that, I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed my coat, shoved my feet into my shoes, and bolted out the door, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The night air was cool against my skin, but I barely registered it, I was too focused on getting to Lilia.

The drive to her shop felt endless, every red light an eternity, every turn slower than I wanted. My fingers tapped anxiously against the wheel, my thoughts racing.

She admitted it.

She finally admitted it.

But what did that mean? What was waiting for me when I got there?

By the time I pulled up outside her shop, I was a mess of nerves, my stomach churning with anticipation and something I couldn’t quite name. I parked and sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to collect myself.

Come over, she’d said. Not “we need to talk,” not “I need to explain.” Just... come over.

I swallowed, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. The street was quiet this time of night, the shop windows dark except for the faint glow of a single light inside.

I knocked, and almost immediately, the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there, looking... different. Her usual confidence wasn’t as sharp around the edges tonight. Her hair was loose, curling naturally around her face, and she had changed into casual wear, soft sweater and leggings, barefoot.

Her dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

I exhaled shakily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied softly, stepping aside to let me in.

The familiar scent of her shop, incense, old books, and something distinctly her washed over me as I walked inside. She closed the door behind me, and the quiet settled around us like a heavy weight.

I turned to face her, my heart still racing. “I meant what I said, Lilia. I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. “I know, baby.”

The sound of her calling me that made my knees weak.

I swallowed. “Then why—”

Lilia took a slow step forward, her eyes locked onto mine. “Because I’ve spent a long time being careful, y/n. Too careful.”

I didn’t move, didn’t speak. I just let her talk.

“I told myself I couldn’t do this,” she continued, her voice quiet but sure. “That you deserved someone... younger. Someone with fewer complications. Someone who wouldn’t keep you waiting.”

I blinked, my throat tightening. “Lilia...”

She stepped closer, and this time, she reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over my wrist. “But you’re right. The age gap, the excuses... they’re just that. Excuses.”

I felt something break inside me, my breath hitching. “Then stop making them.”

Lilia looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the struggle in her eyes, the hesitation, the longing, the fear. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she cupped my face in her hands, her thumb grazing lightly over my cheek.

“I’m done,” she whispered. “No more excuses.”

I barely had time to react before she kissed me.

Soft at first, hesitant, but then I melted into it, my hands gripping her waist as I kissed her back with everything I’d been holding in for weeks, months.

Lilia pressed closer, her body warm against mine, and I felt her exhale shakily into my mouth, like she was finally letting go of all the barriers she’d built between us. Like she wanted this just as badly as I did.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my forehead resting against hers. “Took you long enough,” I whispered, my lips curling into a smile.

Lilia chuckled, her fingers still ghosting over my jaw, thumb tracing my lower lip. “I know, baby. I know.”

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could finally breathe.

But Lilia barely gives me a second to recover before she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me through the shop, her grip firm, her steps hurried, almost reckless. I can barely keep up, my heart racing, my body already aching for her before we even make it to her bedroom.

And then I’m there, being pushed back onto the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath me as I look up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

She’s standing over me, eyes dark and burning with something dangerous, something I’ve been craving for so long. 

I moan, unabashedly, because fuck, she’s so hot.  The way she looks at me like she’s about to devour me whole, like she’s going to ruin me, like I’m something she’s been starving for.

And then she starts stripping, slowly, painfully slow, slowly, deliberately, eyes locked onto mine the entire time. Teasing me with every inch of skin she reveals. She peels her sweater over her head, her curls tumbling loose, and I watch, breathless, as she undoes the clasp of her bra with deliberate precision, letting it fall to the floor, her smirk growing the longer I stare. Her hands move lower, hooking into the waistband of her leggings, sliding them down her hips with an agonising pace. She steps out of them with ease. My pulse pounds in my ears as she takes her time, dragging it out, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me, letting the last of her clothes slip from her body until she’s completely bare, standing before me in nothing but those dark eyes and the wicked smirk playing on her lips, and I’m left staring, aching.  

I can’t take it.

I stand up, lurch forward, hands reaching for her, closing the space between us, my hands immediately on her body, kissing every inch of skin I can reach her collarbone, her shoulders, the curve of her neck. My hands roam over her bare back, pressing her closer, needing to feel her. My teeth scrape over the pulse hammering at her throat, and I hear her breath hitch.

Lilia moans, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging me even closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off her. I trail kisses down, across her chest, down her stomach, dragging my nails lightly, down her ribs just to make her gasp, desperate to taste her, to make up for all the time we’ve wasted.

I want her. I want to wreck her, hear her fall apart beneath me.

But Lilia has other plans.

With a low growl, she shoves me back onto the bed, straddling me before I can even react. Her body pins mine against the mattress, a delicious weight that has me gasping. She tugs my dress up, her hands rough and impatient as she drags it over my head and tosses it aside. A shiver runs through me as her fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, and without thinking, my hips lift to help her slip them off.

And then she does the same to me. Lilia’s lips are everywhere, hot, demanding, claiming me in a way that’s anything but soft. It’s hard, it’s raw, it’s pent up tension that’s been building for weeks, and it’s so damn good, and I can feel it in every press of her teeth, every bite of her nails against my thighs.

She kisses me like she’s making up for lost time, her hands gripping my hips tightly, grinding down against me, slow and deliberate, teasing me with the friction, with enough force to leave bruises in the morning. My nails rake down her back, desperate, needy, and she loves it, moaning into my mouth as she deepens the kiss.

We don’t stop.

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing, just heat and need and the overwhelming feeling of finally having what we both wanted.

I gasp as Lilia's hands roam lower, her touch possessive, her mouth following her hands, unrelenting, claiming every inch of me. She grips my thighs, spreading me open, pressing teasing kisses along my inner thigh, slow, deliberate, making me squirm.

She pauses just above where I need her, her breath warm against me, teasing, torturous. And when she finally looks up at me, her lips just barely brushing my skin, her eyes are dark, lips slick, pupils blown wide with hunger. She smirks.

“Took me long enough, huh?” she murmurs against my skin.

I can’t even answer, just nod breathlessly.

Lilia’s mouth is on me before I can even process it, her hands pressing my thighs apart with a hunger that makes my head spin. She doesn’t tease. She doesn’t drag it out. She takes. 

She devours me like she’s starving, like she’s been holding back for too long and refuses to do it a second longer. Her tongue moves with precision, slow at first, savoring, before she licks deeper, pressing her mouth against me with a hunger that has my head spinning. She flicks her tongue, dragging it over me just right, and I sob, my body jerking beneath her. 

Her fingers slide through slick heat, teasing, testing, until—

I gasp, my back arching off the bed as she pushes in, stretching me, filling me in a way that has me gasping for air.

She’s ruthless, curling her fingers just right, stroking deep, pushing, pulling, setting a pace that leaves no room for mercy.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me, baby?” she moans against me, the vibrations sending a shiver up my spine. Her fingers don’t slow, thrusting into me hard, fast, each stroke deliberate and punishing. “The things I’ve thought about... every time you walked into the shop in those little skirts, every time you teased me?”

I whimper, my hands clutching the sheets, head thrown back in pure bliss.

She bites the inside of my thigh, and I cry out. “Those panties you left behind,” she breathes, her voice thick with lust, “I couldn’t stop thinking about them. About you. About what it’d feel like to have you.”

A desperate moan rips from my throat, my body trembling under her touch. “Lilia... please.” My hips lifting, chasing her, needing more. She hums, low and indulgent, before finally sliding another finger inside me, stretching me open, pushing deeper, pressing her palm against me just enough to make me whine. My hands clutch at the sheets, my body burning, every nerve ending sparking.

“I should’ve done this sooner,” her tongue circling me in slow, teasing strokes, drawing me apart piece by piece. “Had you like this ages ago. Been wanting to hear these sounds from you for weeks”

Her fingers press against that perfect spot inside me, and I choke out a sob.

She licks deeper, pressing her tongue flat against me before sucking lightly, and I jerk, crying out.

“Want to hear you cum for me,” Lilia purrs, her voice dark and commanding,  before she sucks harder, her fingers thrusting into me faster, curling deep, coaxing me higher. “Come on, baby. Let me hear it.”

And I do.

The pleasure crashes through me like a tidal wave, my body shaking, moaning her name over and over as I fall apart beneath her touch. Lilia doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until I’m completely wrecked, panting, and twitching from the aftershocks.

She finally pulls back, pressing a final, lingering kiss against me, her breath warm and heavy.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my stomach, her voice full of praise that makes me shiver all over again. “You did so well for me.”

I can barely respond, my limbs boneless, my mind hazy. But I know one thing for sure, I want more.

It takes me a moment to come back down, my body still trembling, my breaths ragged and uneven. Lilia watches me with dark, satisfied eyes, her smirk smug and dripping with confidence. Her fingers still teasing lazy circles on my thigh like she’s enjoying the way I twitch under her touch.

But I’m not done with her, not by a long shot.

Before she can even process it, I flip us over, pressing her into the mattress with a wicked grin. Her eyes widen, but there’s no surprise, just anticipation, hunger.

“Fuck.” The word comes out in a breath, barely a sound, but enough for her to hear.

She hums, amused, her nails skimming over my arms as if daring me to continue.

My fingers trail lower, slipping between her thighs, and I pause, my breath catching as I feel how absolutely soaked she is. The realisation sends a shiver through me, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.

I pull back slightly, looking at her properly now, taking in the way her lips are parted, her pupils blown wide, her body already straining toward me.

“Oh,” I breathe, teasing my fingers against her, dragging them slowly to feel every bit of her need. “You don’t need any help, do you?”

Lilia’s breath hitches, her hips twitching beneath my touch, but she doesn’t answer, just watches me with dark, half-lidded eyes, her lips parted in anticipation. Fixes me with a look that makes my stomach flip.

It’s daring. A challenge. Like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

“Fuck,” I say again, letting out another slow breath, pressing a little firmer, feeling how she responds so easily. “You really have been waiting for this,” I murmur, my voice dark, satisfied. “Haven’t you?”

She parts her lips to respond, but I don’t give her the chance.

I sink my fingers into her, slow at first, teasing, stretching her open, feeling the way her body clenches around me. 

And then I push in deeper, hard, and she gasps, her back arching, her fingers digging into my shoulders..

I don’t go slow. I don’t tease. I take her hard and rough, my fingers moving with purpose, curling inside her in a way that has her moaning instantly.

Lilia’s hands grasp at my shoulders, her nails scratching, dragging down my back, and I lower my mouth to her breasts, sucking one of her nipples between my lips. I swirl my tongue around it, biting down just enough to make her cry out, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, y/n,” she moans, her hips bucking up against my hand, her thighs trembling around me.

I smirk against her skin, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before moving to the other, lavishing it with the same rough attention while my fingers pump into her relentlessly.

She’s so wet, so tight around my fingers, and it doesn’t take much before I feel her start to tighten around me, her walls fluttering, her breath coming out in broken gasps.

“So, you’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?” I murmur against her chest, my voice dripping with satisfaction. “Thinking about how I’d feel inside you?”

She groans, her back arching as she gasps, “Yes... yes... fuck.”

I grin wickedly, increasing the pace, curling my fingers just right until she’s on the edge, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. “Come on, Lilia,” I whisper against her skin, sucking hard on her nipple as I thrust into her with delicious precision. 

“Let me hear you.”

And she does.

Lilia spasms around me, her moan breaking apart into something raw and desperate, her entire body trembling beneath me as she comes undone, gasping my name like it’s the only thing she knows.

I watch her fall apart, mesmerised, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every sharp intake of breath, and it’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever seen. 

My fingers slow, riding out her high as I press soft kisses along her collarbone.

Her breathing is ragged, a deep flush crawling up her chest, sweat slicking her skin, and she lets out a soft, breathy laugh, pulling me against her, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I should hate how smug you look right now,” she murmurs, voice thick and shaky.

I smirk, kissing along her jaw. “You love it.”

She hums, her lips ghosting over my temple as her breath steadies, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. 

After the intensity of it all, after the heat, the moans, and the desperate need finally sated, we collapse into the sheets, bodies still humming with the aftershocks.

Lilia sighs softly against my hair,  her arm draped lazily over my waist, her chest rising and falling steadily beneath me, and I feel her hand lazily tracing circles on my back. 

I shift slightly, my leg sliding between hers, my fingers still ghosting over her skin, unable to stop touching her even in the aftermath.

Her skin is warm, still damp from sweat, her breathing slow and steady.

“Comfortable?” she murmurs, voice low and raspy, and I can hear the lingering amusement in it.

I nuzzle against her neck, pressing a lazy kiss to her collarbone. “Very.” My voice is heavy with sleep, and I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, but I don’t want to move. “You?”

She hums, her lips pressing against my temple in a slow, lingering kiss. “Mm. I could get used to this.”

My heart stutters at that, but I don’t say anything, just smile against her skin, letting myself bask in the warmth of her.

Minutes pass, maybe hours, time feels irrelevant when I’m wrapped around her like this. Lilia strokes her fingers through my hair absentmindedly, and I can feel her breathing slowing, the tension that always seems to cling to her finally easing away.

I sigh, letting my eyes flutter shut, my body melting against hers. “Don’t retreat in the morning,” I mumble sleepily, barely coherent, but needing to say it.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through me. “I won’t, baby.”

And that’s enough for me. With her promise lingering in the air between us, I drift off, feeling safe, sated, and completely tangled in her. Tangled in her warmth, in her scent, in the quiet hum of her presence.

[deviouz]

Jason with a chubby! fem readerrr pls pls pls!!

Him admiring her as if she were an angel descended on earth and being genuinely surprised and confused that she doesn't really see that much appeal in her body like he does, but he has a way of showing his sweetheart just how beautiful she is (he may or may not has bought a floor length mirror and positioned it riiight in front of their bed <33)

Xoxo

thank you for indulging in my chubby chaser jason fantasies <3

if there’s one thing jason is good at, it’s making you feel beautiful. hell, beautiful might be an understatement with the way he worships the ground you walk on and gazes at you with nothing but pure love and devotion.

sometime’s he can see you staring longingly at outfits while out shopping, and he’s all to quick to force those negative thoughts out of your head. he’ll encourage you to try them on, narrows his eyes when he knows you’re about to say something rude about yourself, and insists on buying it because all he wants is for you to see yourself the way he sees you — drop dead gorgeous and utterly perfect.

truth be told, jason loves his partners to have a little more meat on their bones, so to speak. there’s something about the way your eyes widen and face gets all flushed when he picks you up, sometimes completely out of the blue, and spins you around like you weigh nothing.

“jay, put me down! i’m too—”

“don’t you even think about finishing that sentence unless you’d like not being able to walk for the rest of the week.”

he’ll put you up on the counter and slide his hands under the sundress he had bought you, fingers gripping into the plush of your thighs until they’re parting to make room for him. you’re still too flustered to look him in the eye, lips curled into a slight pout and cheeks all puffed up.

“come on, sweetheart, don’t give me that look. you and i both know that i could easily bench double your weight without breaking a sweat.”

you can’t really fault him there, especially not when he’s slinging you over his shoulder and waltzing off to the bedroom. the asshole even has the audacity to laugh at your incessant demands to put me down! and the so-called-punches you threw at his toned back.

another thing jason todd was particularly good at was fucking those mean thoughts right out of your pretty little head.

ever the adventurous one, you and jason have tried your fair share of positions in the bedroom, though his favorite had to be reverse cowgirl. he loves having you perch on his lap right at the end of the bed, hands roaming your naked form with fervor, all the while he has you gaze into the mirror hung on the wall just across from you both. it was tall and expensive and oh-so-perfect to gaze at the sheer size difference between you and your boyfriend.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” jason whispers, rough hands grabbing at the fat of your hips with need. “so perfect for me.”

you’re already at your wits end, throbbing with need around all eight inches of his cock nestled deep in your cunt, lips swollen from the way you kept tugging them between your teeth. it was hard to keep still, hips itching to move, but jason kept you from doing so.

“jason, please—”

“ah, ah, ah. you know the drill.”

giving a desperate whine, you threw your head back against his shoulder and rolled your hips. “you’re the worst.”

one of jason’s hands trailed up to grab at your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he gave a soft chuckle. “don’t be a brat and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”

“maybe?”

“mhmm. i’m sure if you said it sweet enough i could be convinced otherwise.”

huffing out a puff of air, you turned your gaze back to the mirror. jason’s hand trailed from your neck to your chest, giving your breasts some much needed attention while you stared at the reflection, embarrassment trickling into your nerves.

“i… i’m beautiful.”

his hand slowly slid down to your stomach, sharp eyes staring at your own in the mirror. “and?”

“and pretty.”

“and?”

“…gorgeous?”

“and?”

“and if you don’t fuck me within the next two seconds, i’m gonna—”

before you could even finish your sentence, jason gave a sudden thrust of his hips, forcing his cock all the deeper — deep enough to have the tip brushing at an all-too-sensitive spot and your eyes start to roll back.

“yeah? what are you gonna do, princess?”

his thrusts didn’t stop after the first. if anything, he was just getting started.

“gonna go try to get yourself off?”

“n-no, jay!”

the sound of skin-against-skin soon filled the room, coupled with his teasing words and your pleasure-filled noises.

“you sure ‘bout that?”

the quick nods from your head had him smirking, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips with a possessive touch. he held you tight and fucked up into you like an animal in heat, like he was desperate to leave a mark on you to show everyone else who you belonged to — who he belonged to, too.

“promise, i swear,” words were becoming harder to form with the way he relentlessly pounded up into your warm heat, “no one— ah! fucks me like you!” your arousal was more than evident with the way slick began to coat your inner thighs, a creamy white ring appearing around the base of his cock with every thrust.

“that’s my good girl.”

[brandyoxo]

(nsfw, sugar daddy levi! X sugar baby reader)

(Reader is a teasing slut hhhhh)

You’ve known Levi since the third month you came to LA to study for a master’s degree.

At that time, you still did part time job and tried to afford part of the fee by yourself, reliving the burden on your parents.

Fortunately, you met Levi.

Yes, fortunately.

Since then, it’s been 3 years. He helps you a lot, in finance, in life, sometimes you think he’s like your mentor or benefactor….except the truth that you two will fuck.

At first, it’s more like a routine, and you would be the one that mentioned you could give him a head or let him relive his need on you.

But now, don’t know if it’s because this relationship lasts longer than you two thought, it’s kind of….casual now.

Like exactly now, he picked you up after you finished your work, and you teased his thigh by your left hand.

Levi frowns and side eyes you.

You chuckle, “What?”

“Take your hand off me.”

You shrug and take your hand off me, which lets Levi sighs in relief. But as the moment your hand leaves, two hands unbutton your own skirt.

Levi scoffs, “Shit, don’t do anything stupid.”

“What? I’m busy these days, and we haven’t seen since two weeks ago ! Pleasing myself is normal.”

You say as you put your legs on the front of the seat, spread it open and use fingers to tease your throbbing clit.

Levi almost wants to close his eyes.

“That’s dangerous…..”

You smile and take one of his hand, use his fingers and slide in yourself. Levi doesn’t protest, and he adds more fingers in your slit.

“Ahhh…it feels so good….”

Levi pushes his fingers in and out, but his gaze is still paying attention to the front. ���How’s your work going? Looks like you’re under lots of pressure.”

You let him pumps in you faster, and you throw your head back and moaning.

“Ahhh….not good tho….oh…shit….deeper…ahh…”

“What’s going on?”

Levi’s fingers move faster and deeper, you fidget on the seat, while your toes start curling.

“Fuck….ahhh…..ahhh…”

Levi presses your clit by his thumb, and you reach the peak and pant.

“Oh my god…..”

Levi pulls his fingers out. “Tissues.”

You side eye him and pout. “Am I that dirty?”

“Yes, you are,” Levi looks at you when the last red light which just in front of his house flashes. “So only I can fix you.”

You smile to his words, and you pick up your skirt, while he’s parking.

Both of you get used to each other, you think. But you two still stay the sugar daddy and baby relationship, which means he will still pay you money for sex.

But somehow you don’t like that.

Yes, being with Levi is fortunate. But falling in love with him is unfortunate.

He’s an excellent person. You won’t look down on yourself, but the truth is he’s too good.

Tonight you want to talk about this with him. Either ending this relationship, or……you want to date him officially.

“Have you eaten?” Levi asks you when he unlock the door.

“Oh…” you rub your belly.

“Haven’t?” Levi holds the door for you, “What do you want to eat, spaghetti?”

“Ok, thank you.” You reply.

Levi takes off his coat, he usually wears suit and tie, and he will pull off his tie, and the buttons on his chest will be unbuttoned, which looks very sexy.

You look at him, a muscular man is heaven to you.

He starts making food, and you sit on the kitchen island behind him.

When he turns around to get the ingredients, you spread your thigh open and pull him between.

His hand still on the ingredient beside you, although his eyes can’t take off from your face.

You lower your head to kiss him, he releases the ingredients and pulls you closer, pressing your head.

His tongue takes away the breath in your chest, his teeth nips your lower lips. You can’t breathe, and he moves his lips to your neck, leaving open-lips kiss on it.

“Let me cook for you, alright?”

He looks at you. You pout to him.

“I…..I have something to tell you, before you do this sweet thing for me.”

Levi surprises a bit.

“What? You want to buy something?”

“No…” you roll your eyes. “I….i just want to end this kind of…relationship?”

Levi freezes. But his hands are still on your thigh and head.

“I’m sorry, but I break the rules.” You continue, “I fall in love with you. But you can’t blame me for this, you’re too damn attractive —“

“But you want to end this now?” Levi says.

You can’t stop the heart beating.

“Yes. But I want to ask something else from you…” you look at him, “….what if we date officially?I mean, if you don’t want that’s okay, after all you’re brilliant,you totally deserve better than me —“

He cuts you off by crashing to your lips. The impact makes you fall behind, and he pulls you beneath him, kisses you intensely that you can’t even think.

Levi parts your thighs apart, and his unbuttons your skirt again, throwing that away.

His hand squeezes the inner side of your thigh.

You pant and whine in his mouth.

Levi let’s go of your mouth.

“I’m glad you’re the one who brings this up.”

His eyes get darker. “I don’t have that fucking gut to ask you about this.”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

He nuzzles his face in your neck, murmuring, “Doesn’t matter.”

You cup his face and grin. “You love me too?”

Levi’s hand slowly pulls your panties down. His gaze is full of lust and need now. “I’m so into you.”

You smile a little after he said that.

You grasp his muscular arm that stay on the counter, “Levi…..don’t cook now, cook later.”

Levi nips your jawline, “I am not in that mood now when you stay like this.”

You laugh and wrap your legs around his waist. Levi uses on hand unbelt his pants, his gaze still locks on you, you stick your tongue out and lick your lower lips.

He can feel his dick get harder, it hurts.

If you don’t stop him, he has to bare this pain and cook your dinner, even has to wait for you finishing dinner, then he could fuck you.

But now, it’s getting simple.

“Missionary? Backshot ?” You take off your upper clothes and use his hand to play with your tits.

You didn’t get the answer. Levi holds your hips and thrusts into you with no hesitation.

You moan. “Oh…daddy always likes to fuck in missionary first….”

Levi lowers his body and kisses you. Your moan is swallowed by him, as his pace gets faster and deeper into you, you push his chest.

“Ahhh….fuck….”

He pulls his hips back slightly before slamming forward again, stretching you wider around his thick dick.

“Look at me.”

He demands, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulls you onto his lap, forcing himself even deeper inside you.

You open your eyes and bite your lips, your cute little tits up and down because of the movements.

“Yes…yes…”

“……this pussy is made for me, hmm?” His hips piston in and out, hitting places inside you that make you moan out. He's too big, too thick. He can feel your innocence tearing, your pussy struggling to adjust to his size. “Damn it...”

You start to roll your hip.

His eyes widen as you start to move your hips, meeting his thrusts. “Oh, fuck...” He picks up the pace, his thick length sliding in and out of your tight hole.

Your hips move faster, taking him deeper. He grabs your hips harder, slamming into you. The ingredients fall to the ground loudly.

You can’t stop moaning and feeling the pleasure building in your lower belly.

He hits your deepest spot, making your body jolt.

“Oh fuck…Levi….”

A dark, pleased smile spreads across his face. He starts to pound into you mercilessly, his thick cock stretching and filling you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen. He leans over you, his muscular body caging you in.

“My little doll, your hole only gets wet because of me,” He reaches under you, cupping your ass and squeezing hard. “It’s been how many…shit…how many years? You still….fuck….so fucking tight….still belong to me.”

You can’t answer him, your hands grasp the rim of the counter. You’re moaning with sobbing because of the pleasure.

He spreads your cheeks wider, his thick length pushing deeper inside you. He can feel you getting closer, your little body tensing up.

He growls in your ear, “Look at me, baby. I want to see your face when you finally break and come on my dick.”

You open your watery eyes, meeting his gray eyes, “Oh…fuck…I’m cumming….babe…oh…you fuck me so well…”

He spreads your legs wider, hitting deeper. He sees your small body tighten again. He knows you're close. He adds two thick fingers to your clit, rubbing hard.

You arch your back with moan.

His fingers move faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in tight circles. He pins your lower back down with his other hand, hitting that spot inside you again and again.

“Holy….”

Your body convulses, your small frame shaking as you finally lose control. You scream in ecstasy, your pussy clamping down on his thick cock as you cum.

You almost see the heaven at that time.

Levi groans and pulls himself out and release on your tits.

He leans down and hugs you in his arms tightly.

You two can’t cool down from that pleasure in a moment.

He kisses your sweaty neck.

“I’ll cook dinner for you later.”

[tsumuus]

Ahhh hooray and congrats on the 1k!! Your valentine's event is so so cute, I love all the ideas! Could I please request a box of chocolates for ushijima? ❤

Valentine’s Day had always been one of those days you admired from afar- watching classmates exchange gifts, witnessing the blush of first confessions, and relishing in the general warmth that came with the occasion. This year, you had decided to contribute in your own way, spending the night before carefully crafting homemade chocolates for your entire class. Each small bag was tied with a delicate ribbon, each filled with sweets you had put time and effort into making.

You arrived at school with a tote bag full of the individually wrapped treats, excited to hand them out during the break period. As planned, you walked around the classroom, placing them gently onto each desk while greeting your classmates. Laughter and delighted murmurs filled the room as your friends and peers discovered their treats, thanking you with smiles and teasing remarks about how dedicated you were.

Among the many little packets, there was one that differed from the rest. It held the same chocolates, but nestled inside was a handwritten note- a playful confession meant for your best friend, meant to be nothing more than a joke. Something silly, something lighthearted. A harmless Valentine’s prank. You had intended to hand it to her personally, grinning as she opened it. But in the midst of distributing your gifts, you must have mixed up the bags.

And so, completely unaware of the mistake, you spent the rest of the day in blissful ignorance.

It wasn’t until the final bell rang that the atmosphere shifted. Most students had already left, filing out into the hallways to continue their Valentine’s Day plans. You remained at your desk, gathering your belongings when a shadow loomed over you.

Wakatoshi Ushijima stood before you, his towering presence as imposing as ever. His expression was unreadable, but there was a certain softness in his gaze that made your stomach twist in nervous anticipation. You barely spoke outside of school-related discussions; you were acquaintances at best. He was admired by many, respected for both his talent and sheer presence.

“Thank you for the chocolates,” he said, his voice steady and deep.

You smiled, pleased that he had enjoyed them. “Oh! Of course, Ushijima. I’m glad you liked them.”

For a brief moment, you wondered why he had sought you out just to say that. But before you could think too much about it, he continued.

“I feel the same way,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I would like to go out with you sometime.”

Your mind short-circuited.

“…Huh?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at his hand. There, between his fingers, was a very familiar piece of paper- the confession letter. Your confession letter. Your joke confession letter.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and panic surged through you like wildfire.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, hands flying up to your face. “Oh my god, oh my god-”

Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, then immediately regretted it when you saw his expression falter just the slightest bit. “I mean- no! I mean- Ushijima, I think there’s been a mistake.”

He glanced down at the note. “The confession was not from you?”

“Well- no, it was from me,” you admitted, rubbing your temples, trying to piece your thoughts together. “But it wasn’t- it wasn’t meant for you. I mean, not that I wouldn’t-” You groaned, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “It was a joke. I wrote it as a joke for my best friend, but you must have gotten the wrong bag.”

Silence stretched between you two as Ushijima processed your words. You half-expected him to retract his statement, to walk away and pretend the whole thing never happened. But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded once, a firm sort of conviction in his movement. “Regardless, I meant what I said.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“I have liked you for some time now,” he stated bluntly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I just never found the right moment to tell you. This seemed like an opportunity.”

You stared at him, feeling as though the ground had shifted beneath you. “You… have?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. The idea that Ushijima Wakatoshi- stoic, composed, admired- had been harboring feelings for you all this time was nothing short of surreal. And yet, looking at him now, seeing the honesty in his expression, you realized that he was serious.

It wasn’t a joke to him. It had never been.

A part of you wanted to scream into the void. Another part of you, the part that had always admired him from a distance, felt an undeniable warmth spread through your chest.

You exhaled, trying to steady yourself. “I- um. I don’t really know what to say.”

“Then take your time,” he replied, his voice gentle in a way you hadn’t expected. “I will wait.”

You swallowed thickly, staring at him, at the quiet patience in his eyes. The reality of the situation was beginning to settle, and for the first time since the conversation started, you felt yourself relax.

“…Okay.” You met his gaze with a small, genuine smile. “Then… maybe we can start with getting to know each other better?”

He nodded, a subtle curve to his lips. “I would like that.”

As you gathered your things, preparing to walk out with him, you realized something strange about fate- that even with all your careful planning, life had a way of leading you to unexpected places. Perhaps, just this once, a mistake had led you exactly where you needed to be.

valentines event | masterlists

a/n ty for the request :) this is the first fic ive ever written for ushijima🙃 hope you liked it

[fshfish]

could you share how you paint hair and skin? your art is so nice to look at

thank you so much!

maybe one day I'll make a more detailed post with screenshots as I render... but honestly my painting process is really pretty simple. I usually use a textured brush or something with hue jitter turned up 1-2% to put down base colours, and then I go in with a medium hard airbrush for shadows and for adding warmer colours where blood flows (nose, ears, cheek, around mouth sometimes, eyes).

after that i merge all my layers and basically draw on top of everything. bunch of refining details and texture and LOTS of cross hatching. hatching is a really good way to transition between colours i find!!

(another tip I use for skin rendering is adding gradients within shadows, anddd ofc I add hatching when I do that too)

I wish I could offer more technical advice but I really don't know what I'm doing in the slightest I just throw colours on there and hope for the best😭 I guess other good things to keep in mind for skin are the planes of the face (im rly bad at this one, but basically just look up planes of the face on pinterest and use that as a guide for shadows and form) as well as hard vs soft shadows!!

im also. Not good at this one. So don't take my word for it but i guess it's good to have a variety of shadows that end harshly vs shadows that are softer and blend in more? if that makes sense? you just need to think about 1. what is casting my shadow 2. what is it being cast on (or idk maybe its not. that's just kinda what I do) and render from there!

I like to outline my harsher shadows but thats rly just cause I love to outline everything. OOH THATS ANOTHER THING. use harmonious colours and outline shit it looks soooo good.

i do that shit all the time.Like don't be shy about grabbing colours that don't make sense being in your drawing. it's a drawing who gaf if vi arcane's hair is outlined in turquoise. NOBODY! and it looks fire!

for hair I just bullshit it and add hatching I really don't have a clue how to draw hair. I guess figure out where the hair strands are coming from and then draw them coming out from there (This is some real expert advice here damn) and then add shadows underneath the hair tuft clump things ?? no clue. someone make a tutorial for me im kinda the one that needs it in this situation.

uh I hope that helped at all!! Please watch YouTube videos and stuff by actual professionals take everything I say with a grain of salt because seriously I don't know how to do any of this I probably should study art more but I am LAZY

[shy-writer-999]

Omg so for the Christmas event maybe an NSFW x reader fic with Crocodile where he gifts her a baby banana gator 🥺

yes!! here it is, a Crocodile + a cute baby gator present one-shot! sorry this took so long 😭😭🫶 it's a bit fluffly, too? i just felt kind of in a fluffy mood with this one, and i feel like he could be very sweet sometimes. ~1250 words!

CW: afab reader, G/N language! sex! a teeny bit of choking? (just a whiff...) dirty talk, making out. nsfw content, minors dni please!

Sir Crocodile's Christmas Present

You used to think that Sir Crocodile (‘Croc’, as you called him) wasn’t one for gifts or affection. He was hard to read sometimes—even after all the time you spent together, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. You knew he was fond of you when he started using pet names, when he put his arm around you in bed, and placed kisses on your forehead. But this year’s Christmas solidified it for you.

His present to you was heart-meltingly sweet—a baby banana gator, your favorite type, and he even gave it a little sweater, too. You were taken aback. You knew he had a soft spot for you but this much of a soft spot?

“How can I ever say thank you enough?” You smiled and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips. That hard exterior of his seemed to crumble any time you were around.

After the brief kiss, his response was gruff and short. “You don’t need to.”

“But I want to,” you responded and went for another kiss. He placed his hands on your waist and leaned in, meeting your lips halfway.

When he pulled away from you, his voice was raspy and deep. “Then I’ll allow it. Just this once.”

Crocodile had an air of seriousness always, but whenever you were around he felt a bit... giddy, thanking his lucky stars that you, of all people, were the person who spent the most time with him.

He picked you up and carried you to your bed. Sitting down on it, he made you straddle him.

"I can't get enough of you," you murmured and he hummed in agreement, bringing his hands to your hips and squeezing tightly.

You wasted no time, starting to rub yourself on him ever so slightly. Crocodile tried to keep back a smile. While this wasn’t necessarily his goal when he gave you that sweet present, he certainly wasn’t going to say no to any attention you were going to give him. Your affection was his guilty pleasure.

Moments passed, and it felt like his hands were everywhere. They crept downwards to grab strong, rough handfuls of your thighs, hips, and ass; then they snuck under the hem of your shirt and up towards your chest.

Every grind of your hips was met with a quiet groan from the man underneath you.

“I can’t take this anymore,” he grunted, voice thick and strained. In one swift motion, Crocodile picked you up by the waist again and flipped you onto the bed. He was on top now, pulling off your clothes first and then his, getting ready to spoil you with the affection you so tenderly showed him.

First, he traced his lips across your collarbone, brushing them up your neck and back down again to trace soft patterns over your breasts. He was being gentle with you, treating you like you were precious (something he was very good at). His lips found one of your nipples and he sucked softly, running his tongue in circles, eliciting goosebumps across your skin and quiet gasps.

Resting on your waist, the metal of his hook was initially cold. It warmed up slowly from contact with your skin, and as he got more worked up, he pressed it into your side more, until it was almost painful.

You could see in his eyes that he was about to completely let go. It had been a while, too, so you knew he was extra pent up.

“I need you,” he groaned quietly, pulling you into a kiss as his hand snuck downwards to run his fingers softly along your aching core.

Crocodile spent some time caressing your folds, petting your sensitive spots until you were dripping wet and needy for him. When you looked at him eagerly, nodded, and whined softly, he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed inside of you slowly.

He was ridiculously big—you already knew that, of course, but every time he did this to you it felt like he was stretching you out, filling you up in the most delicious way.

As he rocked his hips slowly, his hair came down in little cascades, shifting as he moved back and forth. Each movement from him was met with sparks of euphoric pleasure, causing you to squirm just barely.

He picked up the pace, getting faster with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he grunted, rolling into you with increased desperation. “Take it, just like that. Feels so f-fucking good.”

Crocodile reached a hand under one of your thighs, pushing it up so he could get an even deeper angle. The strength with which he pressed into you was overwhelming—you could tell you were going to be sore after this. Very sore.

“Say it,” he gasped, furrowing his brows in concentration.

You knew immediately what he was referring to. One of the things that surprised you about him, when you first became intimate, was that he got off when you called him “Sir.”

He could remember (and often did remember, when he touched himself) the first time you addressed him so formally. “Sir Crocodile,” you had said, nodding politely and bowing slightly. The memory of that first encounter made his cock twitch. It was in that moment that he knew he had to make you his.

“Say it,” he demanded again, bringing his hook up to your throat and pressing lightly into the flesh of your neck. He didn’t have any intention of hurting you. But he knew you liked the thrill of the metal on your throat.

“Sir—” you moaned, reaching up for one of his arms and digging your nails into his biceps. “Fuck, Sir C-crocodile, faster.”

He obliged, and the new pace felt so good that you knew you were going to cum soon. If you had to tap out before he orgasmed, you knew he wouldn’t mind—he was just as partial to your lips wrapped around his shaft.

Crocodile could tell you were getting close by the way your eyes started to flutter and the way your grip around his arm got tighter.

“Taking it so good for me,” he groaned. He knew that the dirty talk, the praise, would send you over the edge. He wasn’t the most verbose with his praise or affection outside of the bedroom (he was actually a bit shy, much to your surprise), so it was very precious to you.

A well placed, deep moan right in your ear sent you careening into orgasm like he wanted. His eyes drank up the sight of your orgasm greedily and with self-satisfaction—he wasn’t too preoccupied with his own climax, too busy watching the way your chest rose and fall with each pant, the way that your eyes rolled, and your mouth hung open in a pretty O-shape.

When you were finished, Crocodile pulled you and laid next to you, completely satisfied.

You nuzzled up next to him and he put his arm around you, just like you adored. He looked particularly handsome—his hair was messed up and ruffled, his face was glowy with a thin sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were dusted with rosy blush. It was very becoming.

“So, what are you going to name it?” Crocodile broke the silence, and you looked up at him from where you were nestled in his arms.

“Hmmm. How about Baby Croc?”

He tsked and cocked his head. “You can’t be serious. Surely, there’s another option you can choose.”

“I guess I need to think it over some more. But in the meantime, what are we going to do?”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. You were predictable. Already itching to go for round two and you had barely rested for five minutes.

"If you insist." His tone was flat but you could see a sparkle in his eyes. He could be as stoic and seemingly aloof as he wanted, but you knew that deep down inside, he was so tickled and thankful to spend any time with you. It seemed like you really liked your Christmas present--mission accomplished.

ok now what are we naming the gator?? tysm for reading as always <3 and thank you sam @walmartmihawk for the request and patience 🫶🫶

[frillydolle]

Haiii!! I love ur writing so much ^.^ m'was wonderin' if you could maybe do a caitlyn kiramman one-shot/imagine where her inexperienced girlfriend wants to try more like, roughness, because she wants to experience subspace! (It's just like, deeeeeep submission, like ur mind feels fuzzy and you can hardly talk!) Caitlyn reluctantly agrees because usually caitlyn is the softest dom ever during sex, is like so gentle and always praising :( but now her pillow princess wants this? So she fucks the shit out of her <3

(Size kink, mocking, praise/degradation, CORRUPTION!!! Backshots maybe 👀strap and aftercare!)

If you can that would be amazing, if not thank you for your time :3 I hope you have a lovely day!

caitlyn kiramann x female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ mdni , nsfw ; sizekink , praise , mocking? , inexperienced reader , commander era , can't take myself seriously,, im sorry:(

“oh, such a sweet girl you are, hm?”

“pleease— i want more—” u whine out, feeling her thrusting into u at a painful, teasingly slow pace. u just wanted her to be faster, quicker, rougher, but u weren't sure how to ask her because that's so embarrassing! that was just.. filthy talk u couldn't see urself ever doing!

“you're doing so well, sweet girl.” she'd say, but u really wanted her to be rougher. she was just being slow and filling because u were still a little inexperienced, but u were sure that u wanted more of her, u wanted her to be a little meaner, u weren't gonna mind.

“please, cait, i want more— faster, please—!” u whined out, bucking ur hips into her as u feel her hands grip ur hips from behind. her hand gently trails up ur spine, which makes u shiver. she moves ur hair out of the way before getting a pretty view of ur back. she wasn't sure if she should do what u wanted since u were inexperienced compared to her but she was also a very important person.

someone like her was authoritative, she would guide others. so who was she not to guide a sweetheart like u, hm? “are you sure [name]? i wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable..”

“no,no, i want you to— mhmph— please, commander?”

commander.

pleasure would've left her body if she didn't have an ounce of self-control, or patience, even. u just knew what to call her in a time of need, don't you? and she was determined to show u what a kiramann would do for her partner. she did love u with her whole being after all.

a condescending huff left her lips before she gripped ur hips tightly then a squeal left ur lips as u begin to feel her pace quicken.. and deepen. this is most definitely what u wanted and got it with just a simple title of leadership.

“stop squirming. this is what you wanted, isn't it?” she says, thrusting in such a pace that u would barely keep ur eyes open! she's never been like this before. pent up rage? boredom? or has she wanted this for so long that she just kept quiet? u were only sure that she was making so so good, it was practically heavenly.

“yes! oh god, cait, yes, i— i want this!” u whine out softly, ur voice all shaking from the pleasure that was running through ur body. she always knew how to treat u, sometimes it was like she knew u more than u knew urself.

“i wasn't even sure how long i could stay away from you like this. some of these enforcers can be so... frustrating, but my pretty would be happy enough to make me feel all better, wouldn't you?” and u nodded immediately at her words, evening imagine the taunting look on her face right now if u were facing her. of course, it didn't take much longer to hit the sweet of urs and it was over.

continuous babbles and whines of yes, please, caitlyn and more would leave ur pretty lips. poor u, couldn't even form a single incoherent thought due to the way she's treating u. this feeling couldn't compare to no other, with her touching, her thrusting, her filthy, mocking words.. it was all to much but did u want it to stop? no, not really. or wait, maybe. did u? u weren't even sure.

“oh, you're close. i can feel it, sweetheart.”

[midnight--sadness]

Your mind! We love it!

More freak4freal inhun headcanons 🥺

thank you!! my mind loves u guys so much too 🙏🥰🥰💖💖💖

okay more freaky hcs!!

they are into bdsm. not the hardcore stuff. gihun likes to be tied up and blindfolded, held completely at inho's mercy, unable to move and unable to get away. inho likes the control, of course, of having gihun in his hands and being able to do with him as he pleases. he enjoys the feeling it gives that gihun trusts him so much to be vulnerable like this.

i think inho sometimes likes it when gihun takes the reigns. by this i mean, when gihun just gets on top of him and rides him dry. he likes the way gihun chases his pleasure and how he uses inho like a fleshlight to get where he wants to be.

gihun likes to be spanked, i said what i said. his ass can take a pounding in more than one way.

they both love dirty talk. inho is a smooth talker in all aspects of life and that doesn't change in the bedroom. gihun is always a puddle of goo when inho starts saying things like how perfect gihun is at taking him, how he was made for it.

gihun loves edging. he once held out on an orgasm for more than half an hour and nearly died when he finally came.

✨lingerie✨ gihun likes wearing it and inho likes NOT taking it off, after all, not all presents need to be unwrapped....

also collars (in honor of our mother lee jung jae). gihun once wore one as a joke, maybe as a halloween costume, and got the fucking of his life 😫

i can't think of anything else right now but ther are a lot more, anon, trust me 😖🥴