#of course there's always the chance im just saying this because i feel better on meds. or that its just a big fat cope

[munchkindango]

hm

[maxlarens]

Hi, I have a smau request for Charles (based on c.ai bot lol, and the fact that I love painting), so the reader is invited by her friends to a house for vacation, her friends are all with their s/o and they also always try to set up reader with someone, that's when her and Charles meet, and reader finally gives it a chance because she knows her friends won't stop to set her up. They talk for a whole evening about what they do in life (reader is an artist/painter) and they get along really well. Eventually they get together and reader is very liked by the public, even if there will always be haters, but most fans thinks she's just very adorable (especially because of her insta/twitter posts)

CL: slip up and i call you baby

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you love your friends, you really do. you just wish they’d stop trying so hard to set you up with random guys. [smau + written fic] (read on: ao3) (part 2)

fc: faceless

word count: 5.1k

warnings: mild sexual references

a/n: this is such a cute idea! thank u so much for sending it in!! u will not believe how much this idea gripped me like i never write one shots like this its just unheard of for me if im honest. anyway i know u asked for a smau so i will be doing a second part/continuation to this that is solely an smau to make up for that. (ALSO sorry for disappearing i was super sick for the whole week and have been getting my shit back together in the aftermath😭)

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ynusername italy we are in u!!!

Amalfi Coast, Italy

You’ve never been particularly boy crazy. At least not the same way your friends are.

There have been a few not-quite boyfriend’s over the years, but those relationships never last long. They never really get you, or they never really get the art thing. Which means, of course, that they don’t get you and never will— and that’s fine, you’re content with that. If living for your art means you’ll never be in love then so be it and frankly, good riddance to them.

For the most part, you’ve given up trying. You go on a few dates here and there, but you never let them stick around. Even the ones that seem interested in your paintings you don’t bother with— none of them really seem to be able to grasp what art truly is to you. It isn’t just paint on a canvas, it’s living, it’s breathing. You are only yourself with a way to make art.

It’s difficult to put into words.

So you don’t. Instead, you send texts that say ‘thanks for your time but this isn’t working out’ and you keep the men your friends try to set you up with at arm's length. You placate Chloe and her partner Rowan– who collects friends like they’re Pokémon– with, “he wasn’t my type” and “I’m not looking for a relationship right now”, which you suppose is true, but also isn’t the entirety of it. Yet, every time without fail, there’s a new boy at the scene of the crime.

Chloe doesn’t get it, none of your friends get it. You don’t try to explain it to them. So, y’know, here you are again.

Anyway, here’s the thing: they’re getting closer. Inexplicably, without knowing how you really feel about it all, Chloe and Rowan are getting better and better at picking the boys who are able to tempt you. Which is a pain really, because sometimes you’re trying to have a perfectly nice vacation in Italy without the lure of a boy you can’t let yourself have. But alas, these things generally don’t go your way.

You should know that by now.

Charles Leclerc is bang on the money, he really is. He is unbearably cute, like so cute that you have to leave the room when he walks in, because you don’t trust yourself to be in close proximity to him right now. You have a hard time looking at his face when you are forced to be around him. The dimples when he smiles, the squint of his eyes even when he isn’t. If you look too long you’re liable to stare and that wouldn’t lead to anything good at all.

He’s nice as well. So nice, just like Chloe told you. You try to pretend he doesn’t exist and he still asks you questions about your job and the area of Monaco you live in— like he’s even interested, like he’ll remember you two weeks from now. You try your best to be pleasant, to answer without it being like pulling teeth, and to ask questions of him as well. You’ll probably see him again after this, so best to not to go too far and act like you hate him. It’s difficult though, toeing the line between friendly and encouraging of more. Or it feels difficult for you. Charles doesn’t make even the slightest suggestion of the two of you being set up by your nosy friends. That’s unbearable too. Part of you wishes he’d just make a clumsy pass at you so you can rebuff it and make your intentions abundantly clear. But, obviously, he doesn’t, because he’s perfect or something.

It sucks. You hate him, you think.

Or you want to.

On the second day of the trip, you’re on the villa’s private beach, laying in the hot sun. Chloe, Anaïs and Bea are there; everyone else is either still sleeping off the wine from last night or swimming in the glittering ocean. You’ve got a secondhand book, a 2B pencil and a pair of sunglasses over your eyes. You’re trying to read but you just end up doodling, drawing your friends bikini-clad bodies over the text and shading grapes into the margins. Trying desperately not to accidentally put Charles Leclerc’s dimples, messy hair, or sloped nose to paper.

“So,” Chloe says conspiratorially, as you abort an attempt at drawing a slightly squinted eye with thick lashes, “What do you think of Charles?”

You raise an eyebrow carefully at her over your sunglasses, betraying nothing of your inner turmoil, “I think nothing.”

Anaïs laughs, rolling onto her back, “That’s such shit. You practically sprint away from him everytime he comes near.”

“I do not,” you answer too quickly.

Anaïs laughs again, louder. Chloe joins in and Bea raises her eyebrows at you like you’re a fucking liar. You frown, glaring a little before stubbornly turning your head back to your book. The conversation about Charles ends there, but unfortunately your actions have spoken for themselves. A chill of something like panic chitters up your spine and into your shoulders. You have to roll them to make the feeling go away.

As the sun climbs higher in the sky you lose some people to the heat and gain others. It’s just you and Chloe sweating onto your towels when Rowan and Charles finally give up on whatever game they were playing in the ocean. Rowan collapses unceremoniously into the space between you and Chloe, kicking up sand and getting water droplets all over you like he’s a wet dog. You let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated groan as you roll away from him, landing in the sand.

“Watch it,” you cry, “You’re getting my book all wet.”

Rowan laughs, “You’re drawing in it!”

“So.”

He pulls a face at you that makes you roll your eyes; then he turns into Chloe, shoving his face into her collarbone and flinging limbs over her. You snort, leaning over to snag the book off your towel before it gets dragged into the mess that Rowan is causing. You’re about to get up and go inside until you realise Charles is still standing there. Has, in fact, been standing there since Rowan ran over. Your breath catches, heart skipping a beat as you look up to find him standing there.

“Hey,” you smile briefly at him, quickly looking away from his damp hair and bare chest (–which is difficult to do because, holy shit–) so you can gather up your towel.

“Hi,” he replies.

He might smile back. You don’t look. You’re trying to get the image of his washboard abs out of your head. This proves difficult when you clamber to your feet and find yourself face to face with him.

“Are you heading back?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

God, you want to kick yourself. You’re being so awkward, and right in front of Chloe too, who may not be watching but is absolutely listening to you make a fool of yourself in front of a guy you have very firmly said that you are not interested in. It must be clear to him too, that you’re trying very deliberately to not be interested in him. You cant tell what would be worse; if that means he’ll think you’re a weirdo or if it means he’ll take it as a sign that he should make some kind of move.

Ugh.

“I’ll come with you?”

“Hmm,” you blink yourself back into existence, seeing the questioning look on Charles’ face, “Yes, yeah. Sorry.”

You say goodbye to Chloe and Rowan who barely look away from one another, still rolling around in the sand like teenagers.

“Gross,” you say to Charles, as the two of you trudge through hot sand toward the sandstone steps that lead up to the villa.

He laughs, a breathy thing that tapers off with a sigh, “A bit, yes.”

You don’t say anything else, but you find yourself staring at his back and the way his muscles shift and move underneath his tanned skin. At the top of the stairs you part ways, he smiles at you and you offer something awkward in return, trying to pretend you hadn’t been looking at him. You don’t think he notices, but your cheeks red burn anyway.

You don’t see him watching you leave.

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chloegarelli hungover, sunkissed and lovesick

Amalfi Coast, Italy

Dinner is a huge affair, as it always is on these trips.

You, Anaïs and Chloe spend three hours in the kitchen that afternoon making chicken fricassée and about a hundred different side dishes to go with it. Everyone crowds around the dinner table to eat and drink even more wine than the night before. Piero Piccioni plays on the old record player, crackling away as you laugh and talk and tell stories with your friends well into the night. You watch the sun set through floor-to-ceiling glass windows and you wish wish wish that you had your paints right now.

You brought along a set of oil pastels and one of your art notebooks, but it doesn’t compare at all to painting. If you could get your hands on cadmium yellow in all it’s hues, maybe vermillion and a powder blue, your lack of paintbrush or canvas wouldn’t even matter. You’d use your fingers if you needed to. It bothers you so much that you get up in the middle of clearing away the meal and go to your room for the pastels and notebook. You need to get it on a page at least.

You push a few plates to the side, folding out your notebook and immediately marking the page up with a creamy white pastel. Bea teases you when she comes over to take the rest of the dirty dishes, but you just mumble something unintelligible, too engrossed with smudging the sunset into something that looks like what you’d seen out the window. When the oranges and yellows blend to your satisfaction you take the black and brown and draw in the top of your friends’ heads, not thinking about how much attention to detail you’re paying to the shape of Charles’ side profile.

When you’re finished, you’re surprised to see that the table is cleared save for a few half-full wine glasses and a fresh bottle. Only Chloe, Rowan and Charles are still sitting by you. You’re listening to another Piero Piccioni album now, or maybe just the other side of the record. You remember saying goodnight to the others and saying yes to a glass of wine, so you’ve not been totally dead to the world, but it’s all in a bit of a haze.

You think this might be part of the reason why you can’t hold down a boyfriend. The disappearing into your art like you cant breathe until it’s finished. That may as well be the case if you’re honest.

You sigh, wiping your stained fingers on the next blank page, then you take a long sip from your glass of merlot, pretending you dont notice the others’ eyes on you.

“All done?” Chloe quips, somewhere on the border of teasing and being annoyed at you.

You look at her, your eyes just narrowing enough for her to notice. She does and purses her lips. You raise an eyebrow to ask okay, what’s your fucking problem? And you see her eyes flash to Charles. You follow her gaze to see him and Rowan pretending to look disinterested in your answer. Charles is tracing the base of his wine glass and absently biting the inside of his mouth. You have to tear your eyes away.

“All done,” you answer, tone clipped, before gathering your things (including the wine glass) and leaving the room in a move you hope doesn’t come off as too rude.

At your back you hear Rowan ask Chloe, “What was that?”

Chloe means well, you think as you wind through the villa, making your way to the balcony overlooking the private beach. She wants you to be happy and she thinks you need a boyfriend to be happy. But she’d found the love of her life in Rowan after only a few years of dating around and she doesn’t quite understand that it’s never going to work like that for you. There aren’t enough people out there that understand the kind of passion you have for your art and certainly not many that would also be compatible with you. You’re fine with that, but Chloe doesn’t know what to do with it. Especially not now she’s cottoned onto the fact that you have some kind of interest in Charles. It’s killing her.

It’s irrelevant though, whatever interest you have in Charles doesn’t factor into anything. He’s cute, he’s nice, but so were the dozen boys that you’ve already dated and not continued dating. So really, Chloe needs to stop pushing it because it’s pissing you off. You’re here for a holiday, not to be forced into conversations with a guy you don’t know. If she needs to have an argument to finally understand that, then so be it. You’ve been friends for years, it’ll blow over eventually.

You flick a switch and blinking lights illuminate the balcony. Fairy lights are wound up the posts and draped on the awning, intertwining with the lush green vines that have grown up through the wood slats. The air is balmy and the breeze light as you settle into one of two cushioned chairs situated by a coffee table. It’s perfect. You spread the oil pastels out next to your glass of wine and set your open notebook on your crossed legs, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

You’re alone for what feels like a long time but is probably only an hour or two.

When the sliding door clunks open you expect it to be Chloe coming over to have it out, but it’s not. Instead, Charles slips through the gap with the rest of the wine gripped in one hand.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling at you in a way that makes dimples carve in his cheeks, and dashing any hopes you have that he’d walk right past you.

“Hey,” you forget yourself for a moment and bite your lip on a broad smile.

He holds the bottle out toward you, offering more. You lean over your notebook and hold your empy wine glass up in acceptance.

“Merci,” you say, and in a moment of weakness (and probable wine drunk-ness) you gesture at the plush chair across from you.

Charles, somewhat caught off guard, looks between your outstretched hand, the chair, and your face, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly and finally taking a seat. Despite his apparent shock, you find it hard to believe he’d come out here simply to offer you some of the last of the wine. Surely, this is Chloe and Rowan’s doing. Though, strangely, you cant quite bring yourself to care.

He sets the bottle on the coffee table, next to your oil pastels. You lean forward to place a few back in their rightful spots, snagging your wine glass as you go.

Charles eyes’ scan your face for a moment, searching for something you suppose, then he points at your notebook, “Have you been drawing?”

You nod, “Mmm.”

You think perhaps the answer is a bit obvious. He seems to realise this, you watch a blush spread onto the top of his cheeks and he flutters his eyelids slightly, almost like rolling his eyes at himself. You don’t think about his eyelashes, thick and dark as they brush against his cheekbone, and you don’t think about his eyes, the lights reflecting off them, making them sparkle.

“What are you drawing then?” he asks after a moment of collecting himself, an edge of embarrassment to his voice.

You give in easily to the strange urge you have to show him, grabbing the notebook off your lap and holding it out for him to see what you’d been scribbling in the book for the past two hours. You let him take it off your hands, ignoring the spike of anxiety. He holds it gingerly, like it's a precious artefact (of course, to you, it is), which makes something warm bloom in your chest. You take a sip of wine and gesture for him to flip through a few pages, which he seems hesitant to do without permission. The book is angled in such a way that you can see most of the page, so you’re content to let him. Or at least you are until he flips to the page you’d started when you’d first come out here.

Panic drops like a stone in your gut because he’s looking right at a fully rendered drawing of his eyes. It’s in amongst some pillars strung with lights and covered in climbing vines; your best attempt at capturing the way the beach looked earlier in the day; and, perhaps your saving grace, Chloe half asleep on her towel. But the drawing of her is haphazard, it’s half-scribbled and half-finished, whereas the one of Charles eyes’ is as detailed as the sunset scene you’d done the page before. It had been something you just needed to get out, drawn in one of those hazes of yours. You’d felt better after it was done, your hands had stopped feeling like they were itchy.

Now, you itch to snatch the notebook off him, but you fear that would be even more incriminating. So you watch him look at the page and try to sit with the panicked feeling spreading in your chest.

Eventually, he points at the page, “Is this me?”

You bite your lip, breathing slowly through your nose to try and abate the blush spreading up your neck. You don’t say anything exactly, just shrug and rock your head back and forth in a kind of confirmation that doesn’t really admit anything. Though, there’s no denying the drawing is him.

“It’s good,” he says, seemingly stumbling over the words, “It’s very good.”

You frown into your drink, “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

You know he means it. It’s not that.

“Yes,” you put down the wine glass, looking at him but avoiding eye contact, “I know. I know it’s good. I’m just… I’m embarrassed,” you admit.

He furrows his eyebrows– or it’s more that he squints and his eyebrows fold in with it. You watch his tongue dart out to run across the top of his bottom lip and you stamp down the less than innocent thoughts that come bubbling up at that. He waves the hand that’s not still holding carefully onto your notebook about for a moment, trying to conjure up words that he doesn’t have yet.

Slowly, he says, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I– It’s–”

He’s about to say flattering, so you cut him off, not wanting to hear the tone of it, whether it be pity or something else entirely.

You try to explain yourself, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Like after dinner,” you reach forward and flip the page back one, to the sunset, “I have to get it onto paper. Or… or… it just runs laps in my head for the rest of eternity, I guess. I don’t stop thinking about it.”

You cringe internally. You’ve just told him that you were so consumed by thoughts of his eyes that you had to draw them immediately. That is perhaps worse than just wanting to draw him because you thought he was cute. Charles raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by your admission, but there’s perhaps also something sincere in there? You can’t pinpoint it, but it makes you feel a fraction better you think.

You sigh forlornly, “That’s weirder, huh?”

He laughs, properly laughs, and it sends some strange feeling skittering down your spine, “No. No, I get it. I don’t have any way to get it down as quickly as I’d like, but I definitely understand the feeling.”

You bite the inside of your lip, hesitant but still curious, “You understand the feeling? Really?”

“Yes,” he smiles easily now, relaxing more in the chair after he places your notebook onto the counter with a cautiousness you still don’t expect, “For me, with racing, it’s like I get an idea and I can’t sleep until I try it on track or talk about it with someone. Some of them don’t work, or aren’t possible, which is fine, but if it sounds right to me and it checks out with the people that it needs to, then, well, then it literally does run laps in my head.”

You laugh, mostly to yourself. You’re not sure yet if he understands what you’re saying, but he’s trying. That’s more than you can say for a lot of people. You try not to let that thought linger for too long.

“You think it’s similar?” you ask in a way you desperately hope comes across as curious and not accusatory.

He hums, waving his hand around again for words, “Perhaps. I think the urgency is the same. The passion is the same. Do you ever feel like something terrible will happen if you can’t–”

“Yes,” you’re a bit breathless in your haste to agree, to talk about this feeling with someone who understands, “Yes. I do. It’s like I need to put it somewhere before I lose it. Otherwise, it won’t be perfect, or it’ll be too late.”

“Exactly,” his eyes seem to light up, for a long second you watch the flickering lights reflect in them, “Exactly.”

“It’s never as good as I want it to be,” you admit, finding it easier to look him in the eye now that some strange barrier between you has been broken, “It’s never quite how I imagine it in my head.”

Charles points at your notebook, “These are very good, really. I don’t see how they could be better. But,” he shrugs, “Eh, I will win a race and still think of everything I did wrong.”

You nod eagerly in understanding as you lean back into the chair, finally relaxing into the cushions. It’s strange to have this conversation, knowing you’re talking about two entirely different careers, but feeling like they’re so similar. Maybe it’s just you and Charles that are similar, maybe your jobs have nothing to do with it? You don’t know, you just know it’s nice to feel like someone gets what you’re talking about.

Charles continues, speaking like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get this off his chest, “It’s there all the time, do you know what I mean? Maybe I’m not thinking about it every second, but it’s always there waiting for something to draw attention to it. And people ask what else is going on in my life, and of course I do other things, and I enjoy other things, but I want to be on the track. I want to be driving whenever I can.”

You nod again, more subdued now, “Mmm, right. I want to be making art all the time, and when I can’t it’s like missing a limb. To me art is– it– it’s like–”

“–breathing,” he finishes, almost the lilt of a question to it, but not really, it’s like he knows exactly what you mean… how you feel.

You exhale, long and slow, “Yeah. Like breathing.”

Both of you are quiet for a little after that. You’re trying not to stare at him, but it’s not easy. He’s looking at you almost blatantly and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks the longer he stares. The air feels thick with some feeling you can’t place. All you know is there are butterflies in your stomach and a smile keeps pulling at the edge of your pursed lips.

The smile takes over as you catch him starry-eyed in your peripheral vision, you mutter, “Stop that. Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

You tip your head back so you can’t see him looking at you, “Because.”

“Because?” he laughs breathily, shaking his head at you, “Okay, well, tell me if I’m misreading anything, but I’m pretty sure that drawing of me in your notebook says something, at least.”

You run a hand down your face, sighing loudly, “Yes, okay. I suppose it does. But– I–” for a moment you struggle for the right words to explain yourself, “I guess I’m not really looking to date anyone.”

He tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows and looking for all intents and purposes, like a confused puppy, “You guess?”

You nod, resisting the urge to just launch over the table and grab his face. He is very cute and he is making this so hard for you.

He sucks his teeth briefly, shrugging, “I’m not really either.”

“Alright,” you say, “Good.”

As over as that should make the issue, strangely enough it doesn’t feel like you’re done with Charles Leclerc and it certainly doesn’t feel like he’s done with you either.

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Amalfi Coast, Italy

You try to avoid Charles after that, you really do, but he doesn’t quite let you.

For a few days of the holiday you give him pointed looks and purse your lips a lot when he’s around. Chloe catches on straight away and that makes it all infinitely worse until she finally realises she might need to leave you alone (yeah, shocker). When Chloe finally forces everyone to get off your back about Charles, it becomes much easier to be around him. You’re not glaring at your friends while they make eyes at you, or worrying if you’re acting weird; you’re just allowed to be.

It’s nice. He’s nice.

But you knew that already.

Neither of you are looking for a relationship so there’s no pressure for it to be anything at all. But you have this sneaking suspicion that perhaps both of you are looking for a relationship with eachother regardless. You try to ignore the thought.

On day five, you’re sitting together on an outcropping of rock that overlooks the ocean and you’re letting Charles doodle in your notebook with a ballpoint pen. The bare skin of both your arms are pressed together, they stick with sweat from the hot midday sun but neither of you seem to care. As you watch him doodle inexpertly you can smell him— salt and sweat and whatever cologne he uses masking the very faint scent of burning rubber. Your hair, still damp, brushes his forearm, you wonder if you smell of acrylic paint and mildew from all the water cups you accidentally leave out for your paintbrushes.

You reach out to trace a line he’d made, “Here, it should be more like…” you taper off, taking the pen from his hand and quickly fixing the curve of the beach before handing the utensil back.

“Hmm,” he hums, giggling a little, “I guess that looks better.”

“You guess?”

He nods, “What if I had a very specific vision?”

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, leaning back to look him in the eye you tease, “A vision. Did you?”

He tilts his head down to look at you. You’re very close now, you can feel his breath fanning over your face. In the reflection of his sunglasses you watch your lips part slightly and your eyelids flutter. Your chest grows tight with anticipation and maybe a little bit of panic. Still, you reach out and slide his sunglasses up to settle in his hair. You’re a little careless, but you like the way his hair pokes out from them at odd angles. As he breathes out you hear it catch for a split second.

“Did you?” you repeat, knowing he won’t remember what you were talking about.

He blinks twice, still staring at you, “Hmm?”

“You said you had a vision,” you breathe.

“Oh,” as he says it, his eyes flicker down to your mouth, only for a second, but it’s long enough to you know you’re done for.

You both lean in at the same time, your noses sliding off each other in your eagerness. You breathe a kind of laugh into his mouth and you feel him try to suppress a smile against your lips. It’s slow for the first few seconds, just you and Charles figuring out how your mouths fit together. His mouth is warm and wet and so soft, and it’s easy to lose yourself in it. You move the hand that had adjusted his sunglasses, sliding it up his shoulder to the back of his muscled neck. Your fingers weave into the short hair at the base of it, your nails scratching absently there. He groans, ever so slightly into your mouth and it sends heat skittering down your spine, into the low of your gut.

The hand of his that isn’t clutching onto your notebook slips forward and winds around to press at your bare back. He pulls you closer to him as you slide your hand up to cup the back of his head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Soon it’s a mess of tongue and teeth and Charles blindly shoving your notebook somewhere it wont slip into the water so he can grab you with both hands. He tastes like red wine and coffee and you love the way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his teeth have been grazing at your bottom lip, like he wants to sink into it.

You’re almost in his lap when you’re forced to pull away for air.

Foreheads pressed together, you breathe heavily into the space between you. Your hand is still stuck in his hair and one of his on the small of your back, the other holding your knee. The sides of your noses touch, you nudge yours against his affectionately, tempted by the proximity of his mouth.

He laughs and you feel it against your lips, intermingling with your own breath, “Alright. That was–”

“Yeah,” you finish, dipping forward to kiss him again.

You’re lost for another few minutes. Tongue and teeth and the sound of the waves crashing against the rock behind you. And his hand on your jaw and in your hair and pulling you closer closer to him.

He pulls away this time, turning his head to press your cheeks together, mouth at your ear, “So,” he drags the word out with a laugh, “are you looking for a relationship now?”

You snort unceremoniously, and tease, “Hmm. I guess I would be amenable to that.”

“You guess?” he asks— but not really needing to at all because you can feel his dimples pressing into your cheek as he smiles knowingly.

You nod, smiling too, “I guess.”

🎨 yes of course i made a playlist>> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cAJaZjvK0V7SrmxoMosBX?si=ADlJGHxxQYKnlZ1jWFJxfw&pi=a-AI0MKbo3RTqE

taglist: (pls message if you'd like to be added to the taglist for charles. my yuck! one is full so need to start a new one😭)

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two

a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!

Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex

non-mcu masterlist

part one

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes

The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.

Fuck Simon.

Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.

“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”

You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;

“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”

And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.

The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.

He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.

Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.

Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.

After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.

Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.

No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.

He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.

When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…

Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.

Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.

John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’

He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”

Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”

“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”

You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.

“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”

“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.

“Irritable you say?”

You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.

“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”

Relief.

The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.

You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.

“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”

That bastard.

You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.

“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.

Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.

It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.

Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.

“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.

John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.

“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”

Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.

“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”

“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.

He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.

“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”

You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.

The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.

You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.

“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”

His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”

“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”

“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”

[lovelytsunoda]

dancing in the dark | mick schumacher

summary: after her team gets totally ripped apart in court, yn returns home and changes into some comfy clothes, content to lounge on the couch for the rest of the evening. however, that flannel shirt drives mick crazy, and he has other plans

pairing: mick schumacher x law clerk!girlfriend! reader

warnings: 18+ content, cutesy smut, (seriously this smut should feel horny and like a warm hug at the same time), mick says some funny things. the lawyer referenced is mickey haller from 'the lincoln lawyer' because i fucking said so. (i literally just realized what i've done giving her boss and her lover the same name lmao i dont know any other tv lawyers so this stands and im making it part of the plot) it’s actually shorter and a lil less graphic than originally intended dont shot the messenger

court was rarely ever pretty, but usually yn could leave a courtroom feeling like she did the best she could.

not today. she was shaky as she left the courtroom, even after mickey haller, the lawyer that she worked for, assured her that she'd done nothing wrong.

"that was my mistake, not yours." he had insisted. "everything you put in that document i told you to. lorna and i checked it three times before i filed it."

of course, that did nothing to make her feel better as she drove back home, taking the rest of the afternoon off. mickey had insisted, which usually meant he had something to work on that he didn't want any help on.

when she pulled into her driveway, she dragged herself out of the small car, and into her empty house. mick was still out, presumably with the dog. he had training this morning, and then a meeting in the afternoon, so he had likely taken angie to his mothers.

still feeling off, she stripped out of her court clothes, donning her fuzzy socks and a plaid flannel top. she let her hair down from its tight bun, gently massaging her scalp before heading to the kitchen to make a mug of hot chocolate.

the file was still in her bag, along with a red-marked copy of the form that had been misfiled. the entire trial had to be postponed, so the haller camp was likely the most hated set of people in that courtroom.

she turned the kitchen radio on, a habit she had picked up from her grandparents. her grandfather loved seventies music, so there was always some don mclean or dolly parton playing in his house when she grew up. she herself preferred the eighties: inxs, springsteen, blondie, benatar.

she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of mick's duffel bag hitting the floor. she listened to his footsteps, and it was soon enough that she felt his arms wrapping around her waist.

"i thought you were in court today?" he mumbled, kissing her shoulder softly. she could smell his cologne, a musky and earthy scent. something inexpensive, for he saved the dior for special occasions.

"we got absolutely destroyed this morning over a misfield document with the courts, so mickey sent us all home to regroup."

truth be told, it was days like this one that had yn questioning why she'd even started this job in the first place. lately she'd had more bad days than good ones, but lorna had assured her that it would pass.

"you know what the great thing about being alive is?" mick said softly, taking her by the hand and gently spinning her to face him. "you can always try again tomorrow. nine times out of ten, there is always a second chance."

"i know you're right. i just feel guilty since i was the one who drafted the document." it didn't matter that mickey checked it and lorna filed it. she was the one who drafted it, so the error was hers.

"your lawyer checked it over, right? and he didn't see anything wrong with it?"

"yeah but-"

'no buts. i refuse to see my brilliant girlfriend be down on herself for something that isn't her fault."

she was about to protest again when mick swayed their bodies into a dance, slightly out of tune with the springsteen song that was playing from the corner. 'dancing in the dark'. it was their song. she smiled despite herself, laughing along and joining in with the dance. mick twirled her around the kitchen twice before hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her into the air. she laughed in surprise, gripping his shoulder as he carried her over to the couch.

she giggled as he dropped her onto the couch, climbing over her and planting himself between her thighs. mick leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. she smiled into the kiss, exhaling softly as she unconsciously bucked against his crotch.

“you know this shirt drives me crazy, right?”

“this one?” she pursed her lips. “it’s almost a decade old. it’s the oldest shirt in my closet.”

mick grinned, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he nuzzled his cold nose into the skin between her boobs. “you’re like a sexy lumberjack.”

she laughed as mick kissed over the flannel on her shirt, slowly making his way down to her exposed hip where the shirt had ridden up when he placed her on the couch. "what does that even mean?"

he pressed his nose against hers, her slender legs wrapping around his toned body. "hey, pretty girl. what can i do? how can i make you feel better?"

"mhm, i think i have an idea." she smiled shyly, running a finger down his chest.

"does it involve you screaming my name in pleasure?"

"why yes, i think it does."

laughing, mick kissed her again, gently nipping at her lip before he pulled her into his arms, her legs securely wrapped around his torso. he carried her to their shared bedroom, placing her at the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees on the plush carpet.

he pulled his white t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere across the room as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, gently kissing up and down the expanse of her leg.

the sight of mick between her legs never failed to give her butterflies. he never hesitated to get on his knees for her, no matter how sore they may be in the morning. she never even had to ask. mick always seemed to know just what she needed.

her chest was filled with love as mick kissed, licked and sucked his way across her inner thigh. he was her sweet boy, her love. mick thought that she was an angel on earth, and had even made the cheesy 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' joke the first night that they spent together.

he tongued at her wet core through the black cotton of her panties, eliciting a gentle gasp from the woman above him.

"you liked that, sweet girl? did that feel good?"

"yeah." she breathed, shifting on the bed, arousal jolting through her body. "i want you, mickie."

"it's so weird that you call me that when the guy you work for is also named mickey."

"it's spelt different."

"same difference." he laughed, pinching her thigh gently.

"i guarantee you that i'm not thinking about my boss right now, mick."

mick laughed, his warm hands traversing her thighs, up to her ass, and pulling her closer to his face. "raise your hips, honey pie. let's get those pesky panties off of you."

across from her, a large round mirror sat on top of the white ikea dresser, and she couldn't decide what was more erotic: the reflection of her blushing, panting face and the back of mick's head between her thighs, or looking down and seeing the look of lust and adoration in mick's eyes as he slid her calvins down her legs.

making eye contact with her lover, she teasingly began to undo the buttons on her flannel, letting the fabric fall away and expose her naked curved body to the man on his knees in front of her.

“you fucking undo me, baby.” mick said, voice husky as he visibly held back a moan. “so pretty just for me. I don’t deserve it.”

he gently ran a hand up and down her thigh as she used her legs to draw him closer to her core, the heat radiating off her skin and warming his.

he kissed her core gently, smiling at the soft sigh he drew from his lover before he began to lick at her slit, juices running down his tongue and around his lips.

“holy fuck.” she exhaled, throwing her head back.

if she looked in the mirror, she’d be able to see micks shoulder blades rippling under his skin every time he pushed himself closer to where she needed him most.

“yeah, you needed this, didn’t you? needed me to help you feel better? that’s what I’m here for baby, you don’t even gotta ask.”

there was reverence contained in every lick, every nuzzle. every time his nose bumped her clit. every gasp and moan she let out spurred him on, encouraging him further as he continued to make out with her pussy.

“fucking hell, mick. that feels so good.” she moaned, rutting against his lips. “oh, god!”

“atta girl.” mick encouraged, snaking his arms around her waist. “just use me to feel good, baby.”

she was flush against his face now, practically grinding herself against his tongue. she chanced a look down, moaning at the look of sheer lust in micks eyes as he met hers, his long pink tongue licking at her opening, face practically covered in her juices.

“mick, oh my god!” she squealed, thighs closing in around his face, fingers twisted up in the duvet as she tried to stay upright.

she came with a scream, arms threatening to give out beneath her as mick continued to work her to the edge, never giving up his relentless pace

“that’s my girl. come on, give it to me. I know you can, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

she slumped backwards, allowing the duvet to pillow around her as she felt her legs go week. her hands moved to ruffle micks hair, a lazy smile on her face. he continued to kiss her thighs as she lay there to recover, listening for every breath, every soft sigh.

“how’re you feeling?” his voice was soft as he crept up the bed, gently hovering over her body. he laced one hand with hers, his nose running along her cheek.

“absolutely fantastic. you always know how to make me feel good.”

when he kissed her, she could taste traces of herself on his lips. in the beginning, she’d felt so awkward about tasting it. now? now it just served as another reminder of how much mick loved her. a reminder that he enjoyed pleasuring her.

“can you taste how sweet you are?” he hummed, kissing her softly again. “just like heaven, princess.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, pretty girl. I’m pretty sure heaven is right between those thighs of yours.” there was a sparkle in his blue eyes, and a cheeky grin on his lips. “you know, you’re more than just pretty. you’re fucking smart too. I wish I could be half as smart as you are. do you think that if I slipped my cock into you right now, I could absorb some of that knowledge like through osmosis or whatever?”

she grinned stupidly at the sheer absurdity of the question. once you got him in the bedroom, mick schumacher had no filter whatsoever.

“wanna try it and find out?”

mick drew back, undoing the top button on his levis while she sat up just enough to toss her flannel aside and move up the bed. she slipped a small throw pillow underneath her hips when the lay back down, sweaty hair brushed behind her ears. mick clambered up the bed to join her, large hands reaching to the knob on the bedside drawer for a condom.

he slid inside her with ease, buried to the hilt as he kissed her forehead gently. she squirmed underneath him, gently rutting her hips into his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

his thrusts were gentle, yet still deep as he drew one of her legs up and around his waist, her arms coming to link around his neck as she pulled him close. he was a gentle lover, a passionate one. he believed in taking his time to make his partner feel good.

“my god, babe, you feel so fucking good. so good for me.” he groaned down her ear, teeth nipping at her earlobe. “taking my cock so well.”

hands on his shoulders, she could feel his muscles rippling and undulating under her dainty hands, french nails leaving small scratches along his tanned skin.

“oh, just like that.”

the pace was slow and comforting, sensual and erotic as mick somehow managed to make every thrust feel like his cock was going deeper, deeper, deeper.

“eyes on me, honey pie. I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” mick encouraged, seeing her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, cheek resting against the pillow. “where’s my sexy model girlfriend?”

a smile crossed her features, a moan escaping her throat as mick brushed against her spongy walls. she turned her head slightly, staring right up at his goofy smile and sweaty face.

he leaned down to kiss her, moaning into her mouth before slipping his tongue in and touching it against hers.

his hands travelled up and down her body, over all of her curves. over her breasts and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispered, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“mick,” she moaned softly. “faster.”

he smirked, snapping his hips quickly against hers. “how’s this, baby? you close?”

“yeah.” she whined. “think so.”

she curled her legs tighter around him, trying to pull mick closer and closer to her, trying to take him deeper and deeper. his breath was heavy on her neck as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake. one of his hands came down and over her waist, thumb rubbing gently at her sensitive clit. she moaned out a small curse, nails digging into his back.

“please.” she panted “don’t stop.”

his free hand desperately clenched around the sage green duvet, his grip white-knuckled. her walls contracted around his cock, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. he swore in german, his hips faltering as he tried to keep his composure.

“give it to me baby, come on, I know you can. keep taking my cock. fucking shit, baby, I’m not gonna last.”

“mick!” she screamed, back arching, skin pressing against his, walls contracting around his thick dick.

her nails were digging into his back, her face flushed and facing away from him as she came. at this angle, he was happy to lean over and press gentle kisses to her face, softly whispering praise and encouragement as he continued to work himself to the edge.

his hips stuttered, cock twitching as he spilled into the condom, body shaking as he lowered himself to rest beside his lover. he had yet to pull out, their legs still locked together. her skin was warm as he pulled her into his arms, swollen lips leaving kisses against her sweaty hair and her fingertips drew shapes against the bare skin of his chest.

out in the kitchen, he could faintly hear the radio. it had long since changed from springsteen, now playing the dulcet tones of paul hewson and u2.

he knew he should get up. he at least needed to take the condom off. maybe pull a blanket over their bodies.

but having her in his arms was a type of heaven within itself. her scent overwhelming his senses, her touch comforting over his flushed skin.

he needed her beside him like he needed oxygen to breathe.

“mick,” she mumbled, head still resting against his chest. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you’ve still got most of your lower body weight on me.”

he grinned sheepishly as he disentangled himself from her, watching from the bed as she strode to the closet, pulling a silken robe around her lithe frame.

he was so in love. he hoped this would be his forever.

[kitashousewife]

“m’gettin sick,” osamu sniffles from his cocoon on the couch. ever since he got home he’s been quiet and sleepy, cuddling up with a blanket despite being hot to the touch.

one thing you’ve learned about osamu, is that he is never sick. ma always joked about how despite every illness that passed through the twins’ schools, teams, or even work; osamu made it out perfectly healthy. you’ve found this to be true. even when you’ve been at your worst, osamu’s immune system has never faltered.

“i can’t be sick,” osamu’s mumbled voice is stuffier than normal, and his nose is a rosy pink. “i got work in the mornin’.”

“not like this, you don’t,” you pour some water from the kettle into his cup and dip the tea bag inside. he waves you off.

“what? just close shop for a day? i can’t do that,” he snatches a few kleenex from the box on the counter, turning around when you raise an eyebrow at him.

“you can actually, and you should.” you slide the tea over to him before heading towards your shared bathroom. “just post something tonight to give everyone a heads up.”

osamu shuffles behind you, tea in one large palm with tufts of kleenex in the other. he huffs when he feels hot once again, flinging off his sweat shirt as quick as he can.

“but kita-“

“kita can deliver to our house, baby. we can bring the rice over a different day.”

you fold your arms and stand by the bath as it fills. osamu copies you, leaning against the doorframe with a pout.

despite being sick as a dog, he won’t go down without a fight. out of principle, of course.

“what about the special i was gonna run?”

“you can do it next week,” you test the water with your palm before adding some epsom salt in.

“what will the regulars do when they head to the store?” osamu puts his palms up dramatically and snorts when you roll your eyes.

“im heading into town tomorrow, i can put a sign in the door. trust me ‘samu, i think they will appreciate you being closed. who wants to eat onigiri from someone with a runny nose?”

he doesn’t say anything. for a minute, you think he’s finally rested his case. after he slips in the bath and lets out a comfortable sigh, he decides to put one last ditch effort in.

“produce gets delivered tomorrow! i have to be there for that!” he’s comically large in the small tub the two of you share, knees folded up as he tries to sink in. you shake your head and he groans.

“fine, fine. okay. i’ll close tomorrow. ya happy?”

“thrilled,” you place a towel next to the tub and sit down. “you need to rest, samu. the shop will be there when you’re better, i promise.”

he pouts again, but this time it’s genuine.

“but i’m never sick,” he splashes water on accident when he leans his head back against the wall. “i take good care of myself! i take my vitamins, drink lots of water, get good sleep,”

your lips tug into a smile.

“and that will help you beat whatever you have even faster. but for now, let’s take it slow okay? get plenty of sleep, heal your body, and stay home.”

osamu nods, and let’s his eyes close. he soaks for a few minutes, relishing in the relief his achey joints feel for the first time all day. while he gets ready for bed, he can’t help but feel his heart swell as he watches you grab extra blankets for his side, knowing he will probably be chilly tonight.

“i’m probably gonna sore with all this shit in my nose,” he sinks under the covers, propping his head up on the extra pillows you set up for him.

“you snore anyway,”

“do not! ya liar,” he smacks your bum when you snuggle up next to him. “don’t touch me, i’ll get ya sick. i’m real contagious,”

you place a big kiss on his forehead before getting back to your original spot.

“i’ll take my chances,” you listed to osamu’s steady heart while he falls asleep. osamu is always taking care of you, grabbing your favorite things from the shop because he’s thinking of you. carrying you when your feet hurt from the heels he told you not to wear, bringing you glasses of water because he knows you aren’t drinking enough, and never asks for anything in return.

“i love ya,” osamu whispers, half asleep and hums when you squeeze him closer.

“i love you too, samu. sleep well.”

[indulgentdaydream]

Hello luv, first of all... I LOVE NURSE!READER!!! OH god the last lines were soooooo heartwarming for my social worker heart!! LOVE LOVE IT 🩷🩷

So, may I request a Jason x reader again but with a little something... Jealous Jason because reader and Roy know each other longer than Jay and reader and then he gets all jelly and and—! Oh god I love a jealous petty man.

Missy when she fucks up the queue and queues this post for NEXT YEAR by accident 🫣🙃 NEXT YEAR?? LIKE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED LAST FRIDAY AND I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THAT IT DIDN'T GO UP

anyways AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH your words are already heartwarming ♥️

I loveeee jealous jason imma cook this up so quick just you wait and see (i wrote this when i first made the draft and i found it funny to leave it. It’s literally been a month I’m so sorry)

I also made this into headcanons because I had a VISION and did not think to give it any justice. (koi youre seriously my number 1 supporter i hope you enjoy this garbage I just threw up, really)

Pining!Jealous!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: slight jealousy (not too overly consuming), alcohol consumption

Roy had invited Jason to hang out at the bar

Bros being bros

except...

Roy brought you along (because he KNOWS Jason has got a fat crush on you whether or not he’s told him)

(He tried to convince roy it’s not a crush, but always fails because his whole demeanour changes when you walk in the room)

examples:

he's always going to be standing beside you, consciously or not

jason isn't always a tense guy. But he for sure isn't as long as you're talking to him/looking at him/etc. (but if you put your hand on his arm/touch him in any way, it's game over)

your name is brought up, he's listening SO INTENTLY

like a dog when it hears its favourite word

Anyways

The three of you are sitting in a booth

It was originally you and roy before jason showed up, the two of you on either side

Jason shows up and just sits right next to you. No hesitation.

You and roy are laughing away, recounting stories and telling jokes.

Jason is just... really quiet

unusually quiet

He doesn’t look at you guys, rather looking out across the bar, trying to hide the fact he’s feeling this way

That he's feeling unreasonably jealous of his best friend

who literally brought you FOR JASON

He knows it’s stupid. He trusts both of you. You two are the two people he trusts the MOST

He hates that he’s like this, but he can't help it

Roy's better than him. You've known him for longer. He's making you laugh harder than Jason ever has. He's better looking, too. Older. More experienced.

His thoughts are clogging up his head. He's really not listening anymore, just holding his beer, eyes scanning the bar floor, watching the other patrons.

Then Roy is standing in front of him, saying something about using the bathroom.

He is giving a VERY pointed look at Jason.

a "make conversation with your crush or I'm shoving an arrow down your throat" kind of look

Jason felt a little stab of genuine anxiety shoot through him.

He's talked to you alone before. Many times. You two were friends, of course. He doesn't know why this is how he's feeling right now.

Then your hand is resting on his forearm.

Poor boy is still so caught up in his head he just looks down at your hand for definitely a second too long before finally meeting your gaze

Your gaze with those stupidly pretty eyes.

Then comes that horrendously pretty voice, "You alright?"

He nods. Shrugs. Like a stupid teenager who doesn't know how to handle his emotions.

He has to admit he's still a little tense about your attention being focused more on Roy. But not to you. He'd never admit it to you. You'd probably find it unattractive and then he'd really never have a chance.

“Yeah, no, im enjoying the talking. Always forget how well you and roy know each other”

“Oh yeah he just knows how to get me going. You know how he is”

Jason doesn’t know how he does it.

Like some leap of faith.

Some, jealousy super-powered leap.

He tries to be non-chalant about it.

“It’d be nice to do this again sometime. Maybe without Roy around.”

BOY'S HEART IS POUNDING

Sipping on his beer, looking down at it instead to avoid eye contact with you so he doesn't lose his cool.

Or someone show on his face that he is actually shitting bricks

You don't respond for a second and the alarm bells start going off in his head

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY-

"It would be nice," you say, "Could we make it a date instead?"

He's smiling, turning to nod at you, "Course we can."

But his internal dialogue is just straight screaming at himself

"IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE MADE IT OBVIOUS YOU WANTED IT TO BE A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE"

The things jealousy will make you do

Roy comes back and sits down

Jason's into the conversation now

It doesn't really matter that Roy is still making you laugh

because he's not the one holding your hand under the table

AH I HOPE YOU LIKE -missy

I also love a jealous petty man (as long as it doesn't become toxic and he doesn't use it as an excuse to be an asshole)

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙i told my friends u were the one | 2023 grid˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pt2

pairing: 2023 f1 grid x nepo baby y/n prost reader (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: nepo baby spoiled girl :) this is part 2!!!

summary: in which everyone's favourite nepo baby has to share her time between all the f1 garages

a/n: second part:)) any guesses on who she could be dating💌

request!!!!: I would love a smau with reader who’s a nepo baby but is everyone’s fave nepo because she’s just living life aesthetically and the grid loves her and she’s hinting at a soft launch (idrc with which driver)

fc: gracie burns

my masterlist

part 1 �� part 2 • part 3 •

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, carlossainz55, and 683,193 others

yourusername i guess the race season started

view all 8,193 comments

user1 this post screams my bf is f1 driver lance stroll

carlossainz55 ferrari garage missed you this weekend

yourusername i was preoccupied 😔

lance_stroll better luck next time

landonorris not fair y/n ur supposed to share ur time between all of us

yourusername i'll do better next week i promise

charles_leclerc you better

user2 got so many conflicting feelings

user3 ikr so many mixed messages likee

user4 as a y/n lover this race season is gonna be so fun

yourbff

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 19,283 others

yourbff life following my best friend around the world

view all 4,183 comments

user5 IS THAT LANCE AND Y/N

user6 URMMM

user7 well

yourusername i love u so much im soo lucky 🍀

yourbff i love u

user8 i feel changed by this post

landonorris are u avoiding me y/bff/n

user9 he's always in everyone's business for no reason

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 702,928 others

landonorris slay

tagged: yourusername

view all 4,183 comments

user14 the caption

yourusername slayyy 🧡

danielricciardo of course ur behind all of the slaying

yourusername what's ur problem

oscarpiastri you slayed lando!

user15 why is everyone saying slay😭😭

user16 yet another spanner in the works

user17 LOL didnt lando confirm that they're just friends

charles_leclerc y/n orange doesnt suit you

yourusername will keep that in mind thanks

landonorris shutup charles

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 291,283 others

landonorris get over it

oscarpiastri you can ignore him & talk to me 😊

mclaren he's in trouble for this

yourusername oops

scuderiaferrari this would never happen at our garage

yourusername thank u ferrari ❤️

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 849,293 others

yourusername on race days we wear red ❤️‍🔥

view all 13,293 comments

user18 why is the most exciting part of race weekend seeing what teams garage y/n picks to hang out at

user19 no fr why is it so funny

scuderiaferrari and the crowd goes wild!

charles_leclerc looks much better ❤️

yourusername thanks i feel honoured fr

oscarpiastri anti slay😕

landonorris 😔😔

yourusername you had your chance !!

user20 not y/n bringing slay into the grid vocabulary

pierregasly we wanna join the competition y/n

yourusername of course you can contact my secretary and we'll be in touch 😊

lance_stroll im her secretary

yourusername no you arent

yourusername posted a story

liked by lance_stroll, pierregasly, and 362,193 others

landonorris hard launch when

user21 WHO IS HEEE

user22 whoever he is is the luckiest man alive i fear

user23 i wont rest until we get a hard launch

user24 could it be a ferrari driver considering she was there today😭😭

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 793,193 others

yourusername alpine was the most fun so far because it has kika

view all 5,283 comments

francisca.cgomes had the best time giggling with you.. come back soon

yourusername i'll be back as long as you are there😻

pierregasly okay? that's my gf can you relax

yourusername shut up pooerre

user25 POOERRE😭😭😭

estebanocon i love y/n!

yourusername i love estie bestie!

estebanocon 🤔

user26 im so obsessed with y/n being all over the grid every race weekend

user27 i love her so bad

user28 y/n prost u will always be famous

lance_stroll come back i miss you

yourusername aww you sweet sweet boy

user29 wait.. i love them

lance_stroll posted a story

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 548,023 others

user30 URM HELLOOO Y/N

alex_albon FREE HER

lilymhe we want her

maxverstappen1 you are hogging her

lance_stroll you snooze you lose

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, and 892,193 others

yourusername & here's to my real friends!!!!

view all 18,345 comments

landonorris ?? what the hell y/n

yourusername the last pic is me when the weekend ends & i have to leave williams garage

lilymhe you r so obsessed with us not even a pic of urself on this one

yourusername i would just distract from the pure slay vibes

logansargeant 💀 stop saying slay

yourusername no.

user34 lol y/n loves williams so much

user35 & when williams merch sales increase because of this post then what?

liked by yourusername and williamsracing

williamsracing we love you y/n! keep slaying

alex_albon not you too 💀

yourusername 😊😊😊

maxverstappen1 the order you have chosen to visit each team garage in is alarming

yourusername aww is maxie angy coz he wins everything but bitches??😕

danielricciardo HAHAHA

maxverstappen1 nevermind you are no longer welcome at red bull

user36 💀 poor max getting bullied

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, redbullracing, and 972,191 others

yourusername i remember this garage being much more fun when daniel ricciardo was around ...

view all 26,283 comments

user37 is she allowed to say that...

user38 one thing about y/n is she will always say whatever she wants

maxverstappen1 i respect the honest review i will do better next time

yourusername aww dont worry max emilian i had the best weekend 😊

kellypiquet ❤️❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

danielricciardo i just laughed out loud at this

danielricciardo this is such an unprovoked comment

yourusername omg yay it worked i got your attention

danielricciardo you need therapy

landonorris i've been saying this!

user39 daniel ricciardo stans rise

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, lilymhe, and 842,194 others

yourusername u were my daisy 🌼

view all 8,183 comments

user40 omg she's insanely beautiful

lilymhe please y/n give me one chance

yourusername one? i got a million for you

alex_albon ?

lilymhe why are you trying to ruin a special moment between two girls

charles_leclerc wow

danielricciardo wya y/n?

yourusername ur mum's house

landonorris are you from tennessee

yourusername dont you say another word

oscarpiastri slay 🧡

user41 🤔

yourbff how has ur side profile sent half the grid running away blushing

lance_stroll it's not just the side profile i fear

yourusername female gaze vs male gaze..

yourbff omg im living in hell

THE END 🤍

[e-vay]

so… i turn thirty this year & after two failed relationships, im unsure how to have hope i’ll ever find my “person”. Ive been following you for a long time… how did you have hope that you’d eventually find someone and have a happy relationship?

If this is too intense or personal to ask, dont worry i just,,, i dont know. Its a struggle to feel like i’ll ever find The One and i know you went through something similar so… maybe you’d just have advice?

Thank you,,, i hope youre having an amazing night ❤️

I don’t mind you asking me this. If talking about the hard times I went through can help others get through it, I think it’s worth discussing. 

Like you said, I also struggled with love for a long time and after a few devastating relationships I gave up on dating altogether for a while. But, in hindsight, that ended up being a blessing because I was able to spend time bettering myself and—most importantly—learn to love myself. Yes, having a partner can make our lives richer, but I think it’s important to be able to enjoy your own company. Before, I thought the void inside of me needed to be filled by another person, so I would go out of my way to find somebody to do that without actually worrying whether or not they were the correct fit for me. Having time to focus on myself made me a better person (I think), and it ultimately ended up being for the best because I no longer felt like I was less than. Of course, I would still feel lonely from time-to-time and I’ve always been a romantic so I love the idea of love, but I got to the point where I felt fulfilled enough on my own so that when I met my now-husband, the feeling was significantly different. It wasn’t “I need to put this person in the hole that is my heart so that I can crawl my way up out of this pit,”... It was instead “Oh, this person significantly ADDS to the joy in my life” and that’s one of the reasons why he stood out to me as a partner. Though I would have liked to have met my husband sooner in life, honestly? Had we met sooner, before I matured and improved myself, we likely wouldn’t have worked out. I'm not saying you need to improve yourself. I'm just saying that that's what helped me and ended up giving me hope.

I also think society gives us too many unrealistic expectations and goals that we’re expected to meet by certain “deadlines”. Everybody moves at their own pace and has their own journey that’s unique to them. We can’t all be expected to follow the same linear path; humans are just too different. I was my husband’s very first girlfriend and he was 36 years old when we started dating. But when I’ve asked him if he’s upset/disappointed he never had a relationship before meeting me, he’s told me “No, I think we met when we were supposed to.”

Lastly, I want to address my personal beliefs on “The One.” Y’all know I’m a romantic and I do believe in soulmates, but I also believe we’re capable of having more than one soulmate. The world is too big for us to be limited to the chance of only ever finding one single person who is compatible for us. And if we miss out on meeting that one person, our chance of love is shot??? I just don’t believe that. When widows/widowers remarry, does that diminish the love they had for their late spouse? Of course not. It doesn’t mean their first love wasn’t just as important and meaningful as their new love. So, maybe you could find it helpful if you adopt this mindset as well. I think it makes the idea of romance seem less impossible.

I don’t know if this makes you feel any better but at the very least I hope you don’t feel worse for having read it! I don’t know you personally, but I wish you absolute happiness.

It's going to be okay 🙂

[iloveslllycatss]

RUNAWAY

— pairing : post naruto vs sasuke fight!sasuke uchiha x fem!reader  — genre : angst , fluff — summary : sasukes always seen the worst in everything, even you. and when he realizes all the hurt he’s caused for you, his word crashes (again) — a/n : i love my man and i love kanye west. LISTEN TO RUNAWAY BY KANYE WEST! (lyrics not in order, i picked the ones that go most with what’s happening) bold + italics is lyrics NOT PROOFREAD.

SASUKES ALWAYS despised everything. but never you. 

at the beginning, he mistook his love for hate, always complaining about you to himself, yet always willing to protect you. he always pointed out your faults, always thinking about himself. but you? you always prioritized him. he was the reason of your existence, the reason you kept living. 

now that sasuke was back, he had apologized to you for his past, to everyone. his past was something he wanted to forget. he wanted to be better. for himself, for you. but after the two of you got together, it seemed like he only saw the worst in everything. it felt like he wasn’t even interested in you. but you dealt with it, your biggest fear being the possibility of him leaving. you had grown attached to him.

he knew this, of course. he knew you couldn’t leave, and that you wouldn’t even if you had the chance. he knew he was hurting you. sasuke always noticed that look on your face when he said something wrong. he noticed the way you’d look at him with those eyes, the look on your face filled with hurt and disappointment, but you’d quickly conceal your feelings when you saw him. he noticed how you’d always hide how you felt, just so you wouldn’t burden him.

he felt guilty. guilty for the fact he’d hurt you without even trying. for him, it was like a reflex. he unconsciously pushed you away all the time, always keeping that cold, emotionless look on his face, as if he didn’t even care. but he did. and he knew it was getting to you.

and i always find, yeah i always find something wrong, you’ve been putting up with my shit just way too long

he tried to hold back his cruel words, he did. but he’d always end up pushing you away. saying things like ‘you’re annoying’ or ‘shut up’, he never wanted to say those things, they just kinda came out, he’d mutter a small ‘sorry’ after he’d say it, but it still hurt. and he didn’t know how to fix it.

im so gifted at finding what i don’t like the most

you couldn’t remember the last time sasuke told you he loved you, or the last time he’s initiated affection with you. you’d always initiate affection, hugging him and kissing his cheek, he liked it. but sometimes it was a little too much, so he’d lash out, his tone would be cold, and he’d tell u to stop smothering him, or that you were being clingy. he didn’t mean it, of course. he just didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you. he saw himself as a monster, especially when you’d give him that look again. he had hurt you, and he didn’t know how to stop.

you’d grow a little distant after that happened, cutting down on how much affection you’d give him, even if you craved it. you had stopped talking to him as much too.

you always tried to be perfect for him, always willing to change yourself for him. it was always about him. you put his opinion before yours, his feelings before yours, his wants before yours. you couldn’t help it. you loved him with every cell in your body, and you didn’t want him to get bored of you one day and leave.

when sasuke would get angry and he’d come home, he didn’t bother hiding it. his eyes low and cold. his glare piercing into the back of your head, and you felt it. you could feel how pissed he was from just standing by him, the only problem? he’d take it out on you. 

he wouldn’t raise his hand at you or anything, he wouldn’t dream of it. he wouldn’t yell, either. he’d just give you that look of hatred and disgust. not because he felt that way towards you, but because his mind was going crazy at the thought of whatever had pissed him off. when he’d speak to you, he’d blame you for whatever he was mad at, but he’d do it subtly. he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t help it. sasuke didn’t know how to control his anger without taking it out on someone or pushing them away and keeping it to himself.

and i just blame everything on you, atleast you know that’s what i’m good at

after he’d calm down, he would apologize, first thing when he saw you. his voice would be low and he’d avoid your eyes, keeping an even tone with you. his breathing would be calm, and steady. and you’d forgive him right away, like you always do.

and i always find , yeah i always find , yeah i always find something wrong.

you’ve been putting up with my shit just way too long.

i’m so gifted at finding what i don’t like the most.

so i think it’s time for us, to have a toast.

what really got to him, was when he saw you curled up on the bed at night one day when he got back from a mission. he saw you hugging yourself, under the covers in the dark bedroom. you looked peaceful yet bothered. your sleep wasn’t a good one, and it showed. he felt so guilty for how he’s been treating you. he wanted to be better. he wanted to show you he could be a good boyfriend.

he showered and got dressed, laying next to you on the bed after, he hesitated. only for a little bit, before he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. it startled you a little, you woke up, your vision blurred and your voice drowsy

“sasuke..?” you asked, your voice was low, almost a whisper. you were confused by the sudden affection. but not complaining though, you had wanted this the whole time. and the first words that came out of his mouth surprised you.

“…… im sorry, y/n.” he mutters, quietly. he needed this. just as much as you did.

baby i got a plan, runaway as fast as you can.

his apology made your heart melt. you shifted a little, turning around to face him as he held you. “it’s okay, sasuke. it’ll always be okay” you say, quietly but sweetly. your voice like honey to him. he couldn’t get enough of it.

“.. i don’t understand….. , why you stayed with me for so long , even though i’m always hurting you.” he mutters again, his voice faint. his tone even, and his grip on you tightens.

runaway from me, baby …… run away,

runaway from me, baby …… run away.

when it starts to get crazy,  why can't she just, run away?

baby, I got a plan, runaway as fast as you can..

you stayed quiet, his words hit close to home for you. you didn’t know why you stayed. for you, it was like you just couldnt leave. you didn’t know if you could handle living without him. especially considering all the times you thought you had lost him. you loved him. more than anything. 

you understood why he treated you like that, he’s never been with anyone else, he didn’t know how to act in a relationship. but he was gonna try to be better, for your sake. he’s never been much of a romantic, he didn’t know how or what to do to make you feel good (not sexually u dirty mf 🤓). he was scared you’d leave him. he didn’t know how he’d manage without you. you were the calm to his storm. he couldn’t imagine it. he didn’t want to be with anyone else. just you.

never was much of a romantic, i could never take the intimacy ;

and I know it did damage, cause the look in your eyes is killin me

i guess then you at an advantage, cause you could blame me for everything ;

and I don't know how I'ma manage, if one day you just up and leave.

…

“i love you, sasuke. i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” you murmur, engulfed in his warmth. your voice was quiet, and only truth was told. “i’m not going anywhere, ever.” you say, reassuring him. 

but when you said those words, 3 words, 8 letters. his eyes widened. he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe that you loved him. even after everything he’s put you through. his grip on you only tightens. he’s scared to let you go, scared to lose you if he does. he hesitates a little,

“…….. i love you too. i’m sorry.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, and you just turn your head up at him and press your lips to his jawline softly, a small  show of affection to reassure him some more.

he was gonna try for you. whatever it took, he would do it.

he just wanted to be perfect. for you.

© spiderruna 2023 , no swiping guys

[cherry-pop-elf]

Drink With Me

George Weasley x Reader

AN: For poor @im-trying-my-best-yall who needs some needed fluff

Sum: George has been acting pretty weird around you recently. He keeps trying to say something to you, but whenever he does he seems to switch topics right before he says it. You figured he’s just stressed about planning for WWW after school ends, but it’s getting annoying now. So you confront him

Warning: Short and Sweet

“Georgie! Hey, I gotta ask you something!”

There you hurried after him, to cut him off from heading to his next class. The rare times he and Fred weren’t glued to the hip. George took up new class that just wasn’t Fred’s speed. Was something about Baking if you recall correctly. Fred prepared to cook. Had to take the chance, while he’s alone, so no one could intercept you both.

“Hey shortie, what’s up?” He would ruffle at your hair, as you quickly fixed it. Those Weasleys and their string bean genes. Made him tower over you. Always left with a hurt neck if you talked to him too long. Hopefully this will be short.

“You’ve been trying to ask me something for the past few days, and I figured now that I caught you that you can tell me. So what’s up?” You asked him. Asking seemed to be what he feared the most out of you.

His wand was soon rubbing his neck, his freckles cheeks flushing, and his doe eyes darting. He just seemed to instantly clammer up. Just not seeming to be the confident ladies man he normally is. He is just a wet hand mess. What was going on?

“Oh yeah….That. Yeah uh….Um.”

Oh how his eyes were darting around. He was trying so hard to find an excuse to not Ben in this situation right now. To find something to make him shut up. To escape this pin. But no one was around. No one anywhere, not even Peeves to give mercy to the bastard in the Gryffindor Robes. He needed to face this head on.

“Was um. Just wondering if you wanted to hit up the Three Broomsticks together. That’s all.” He tried his best to act casual, and shrug. Made you all the more confused.

Why is this making him so flustered?

“Ok…..Werido. That sounds nice. We could hit it up sometime after class. Fred and Angelina should be-“

“Without them…..”

Oh…..Oh.

Just the two of you. No brother, no other friends. Just the two of you. Like a date. Like a normal date that normal couples do. Normal normal normal little dating. Just a date between two people. A date date.

“……I uh. Yeah, I think I can do that.” You swallowed, as this was starting to really register now. He wanted to ask you out on a date. Still, why was he so flustered over it? He’s asked out plenty of guys and gals before. Never sweat this much. Even Fred straight up called Angelina across the table to the Yule Ball, and that was the end of that. What made you different?

“You weren’t dared to do this, were you?”

He stared down at you with the most offended expression possible. As if you called him a blood traitor. Some kind of slur that would make Molly faint. He looked ready to smack you, but of course he wouldn’t. He never would lay a hand on you. Unless you asked.

“What?! The hell you mean ‘was this a dare-‘ bullshit? No! This isn’t some dare. What gave you an idea like that? Fred and I have standards. Pranks like that are not only overly simplistic, but there is no joke at the end of it. Who’s laughing? No one. Give me some respect-!”

He gave you a hip bump, and it made you laugh. Helped you feel a little better over the whole situation. Maybe you were different for other reasons. Maybe he was bashful because you two had been friends for so long. It is pretty awkward to ask a friend out. If they say no, well….You can’t really take back what you said.

“Ok ok, I’m sorry Mr. Weasley. I shall never question your pranking methods again. Now hurry to class, before you get detention. If you get detention we can’t grab butter beers. Go on and get-!” You hip bumped him right back, and he gave that cute crooked smile. One that showed there was no worries to ever hold. That he’s all laughter.

“Alright I’m gone! All gone! Poof!” And down the hallway he went. Vanishing around the corner, as you now were dancing a squealing. Flapping away at your robes in total utter glee.

George Weasley asked you out.

Had you stimming like crazy, unaware that a certain red head had his own stimming session all the same. Flapping his hands to try and calm down. So damn happy you said yes.

[yusa-lisaxyuta]

JORDAN LI HOURS OMH

ok guys im sorry i just have some thots i must share about my lord and savior Jordan Li bc oh my GOD

the different genres of Jordan too mmnmsmsnsnhshshsmd

LIKE LIKE LIKE

we have your average roommate!Jordan thats an absolute dick to u bc they want u so bad bro

always pissing u off on purpose with stupidly loud moans, PRAYING it pisses you off enough times after youve had to find refuge in marie or andre's dorms bc wtf

the way theyre so desperate it doesnt make sense anymore i swear

they literally have not even the slightest clue on how to show how much they fucking adore you so they decide to be a dick about it every chance they get because theyre more emotionally fucking constipated than katsuki bakugou himself BUT JORDAN CANT HELP IT!!!! THEY WANT U!!!! JUST U!! ONLY U!!! And they're tight asf when they cant have u!!!! LIKE WHY CANT THEY HAVE U!!!

soon they corner u and confess everything to u while just blindly raging bc they're sick and tired of this shit n at first ur js like "um what" bc you didnt realize at all and thought they hated u

and they say it so condescendingly too??? on some "Stupid fucking freshie, your fuckin' scent is all over my shit. Shit drives me wild, you know what you fuckin do to me? I dont think so. Of fucking course you dont." LIKE AAA???? But in REALITY they're praising EVERYYYYY little thinggggggg. DOWN TO UR SHITTY HANDWRITING WHEN YOU JOT THINGS DOWN?! Fucking perfect to them. But it gets them so mad, they're used to getting what they want. And they dont know how to handle it when they cant-

OH BUT WHEN JORDAN GETS U FINALLY???? OH ITS OVER FOR U POOR THING

you genuinely arent prepared for the type of down bad desperate needy sex you two have your first time together oh my GOD you dont understand

"Mine- fuckin' waited way too long, and fought too hard for this pretty pussy- pussy's mine, heart's mine- shit- can feel the heart in the pussy, mama- fuck-!"

oh no but then we have Mafia!Jordan???? UM HELLO???

(cw/tw: guns used during sex [im sorry something in my head goes wonky with jordan and guns in the same vicinity])

GETTING BENT OVER AND RAILED WITH JORDAN PUTTING A GUN TO UR HEAD???!??! AUUUURRRRR?@?!?!?

no because the dirty talk would be on POINT oh em gee think about it

"Cmon princess- don't fuckin' run. I'll make you regret it- cmon, baby. Take this fuckin' dick- fuckin love this princess cunt."

HELLOOOOOO???? sorry brb i DIED FROM OVULATION

bros makes my ovaries do backflips i swear

AND THE WAY THAT THEY SPOIL YOU?!!?!?! Now see EVERY JORDAN finna apoil tf outta you BUT MAFIA JORDAN OH GOOD GAY GOLLY GUYS. OHHHH GOLLY. The way they're such a fuckin jerk and so cold to everyone else but they make sure you ALWAYS feel like their precious little princess AUUUUGGGHHHH

"I swear, ask me for the price of that shit one more time- just fuckin' get it. Ok? Last fuckin' time i say it. Now let's go, you said you wanted to stop at Prada, right?"

this person would watch you take hours to pick out cute outfits, blow a couple racks on that shit, and watch you skip to the next store happily knowing DAMN well they have every intention to ruin that outfit.....also with the intention of buying you a better one, of course.

BACK TO THE GUNS IM SORRY BUT HEAR ME OUT- someone getting too close to u for their liking and touching you with the cold metal as punishment <3333 i mean they know you only have eyes for them but where's the fun in that, yk?

"Im guessing you like this, huh? Like when others give you attention so i can get like this, baby? If you wanted this you just had to ask... but, 'm mad now.. 'n you're gonna take everything i give you."

gahshshgshagdhsg sorry guys the demons took over im still waiting for s2 of genv 🙏 pls i need more jordan 🙏 🙏 🙏

[judasgot-it]

HELLO‼️‼️ If you’re okay with it could u maybe write Tecchou with an s/o who tends to injure themselves on missions because they feel the need to “protect” him even if he is the strongest hunting dog😭😭 AHAKXBSBSKSSNSNJAJKS I don’t mind it if you write a oneshot or headcanons, i rlly don’t mind anything tbh (or just ignore this in general if you have no motivation/ideas for it)

I would do this because Tecchou is my pookie and I'm stupid as hell. Delusional, even.

The new chapter was terrible and I hope Tecchou stays alive. MY POOKIE MUST LIVE

Scenario: Getting injured while defending Tecchou (i guess this is angsty sorry its the mood im in)

You had fucked up. Big time.

Being a Hunting Dog meant that you were going to be injured. Also meant that you were going to fight while you were still healing those injuries.

It didn't matter. It never mattered.

This was what the job called for, and you were always going to have to just deal with it. That's what it meant when your body was never truly yours.

But you were stupid, and sometimes you would rather forget this part of yourself.

You weren't the strongest in your group - far from it. Nor were you the smartest.

Maybe the dumbest. Because right now, you were sure you had just killed yourself on the field. A stupid decision, really; it hurts to die. It hurts a lot, and you don't know why you didn't know that.

"Y/n."

"I'm sorry." What were you supposed to say? You died. Came back, but you had also died.

And now Tecchou seemed upset at you for it. His golden eyes were making holes through your skull, which was honestly a horrible feeling. He was usually easy to read when you knew his little quirks - the lines of his face, and how his body was almost always relaxed around the team.

Right now it was like he was on high alert. But also angry. His face hadn't changed, and it was making you scared.

"Y/n," He breathed in a breath so large it was as if he was breathing in slow motion. The only time he took his gaze away was to blink, and it was frightening how yellow his eyes really were. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"I'm not stupid." Tecchou laid his sword out across his lap - hard to tell if he was relaxed or trying to intimidate you. Just his stance, the way he spread his large body out in the hospital bed so naturally had made you feel so small.

"I just don't know what you mean."

"Why did you die?"

"...Because I got stabbed in the neck?"

Tecchou's face looked as if you had farted at a funeral. It was almost an impossible feat to pull the look from the man, so you should really give yourself an award.

Unfortunately, he only gave you a few seconds to enjoy the look, as he wiped it away quickly, instead starting a staring contest with a poster on the wall.

You wanted to say something to make him feel better - you had died, so really, shouldn't you be celebrating the medical miracle? Plus, you did die to save him.

Why would he be upset?

Carefully, you pulled yourself up from your hospital bed, leaning closer to the chestnut-haired man and gave him your best smile. You felt a little gross, and you hoped he wouldn't mind - you hadn't gotten the chance to brush your teeth since your last battle, so you were sure you looked disgusting.

"Are you okay?" You felt almost weak saying that.

Of course he would be okay. He was Tecchou Suehiro, the strongest hunting dog. He was sitting in the chair, untouched, while you were bedridden and covered in new scars.

"I'm," His hand reached for your wrist, thumbing around to feel the bones that hid underneath your skin. His eyes said nothing, only staring at your skin as he prodded around. "You fucking died."

"Died for you."

The concept wasn't hard. It was so easy to say it, but Tecchou only stared at you, as if he had heard it again for the first time.

I would die for you.

Not a new concept for lovers, by any means. Although, maybe it meant a little more when you were both soldiers.

"I can protect you, Y/n."

Tecchou looked up at you, his amber eyes glassy. His hand grabbed your shoulder, a firm grip as he leaned in close enough to breathe in your air. You would have leaned away, but he had eaten something sweeter earlier and it lingered on his breath, making the interrogation bearable.

It was also impossible to look away, given that his face was beautiful underneath even the worst of hospital lighting.

"I want to protect you, Tecchou."

"But you died."

"That's our job."

He sighed, leaning his body against the bed. You were trapped, and there was no way to escape him. Tecchou had practically started to steal your breaths as they came out of your mouth, the conversation continuing as normal.

"I would rather it be me than you."

One of his hands reached up to brush your hair out of your face, taking his time as his fingers reached a knot and gently brushing through it. He took his fingers and played with hair like this, slowly dragging them across your scalp.

"That's depressing. We can't both die."

You tried your best to laugh, despite the stitches along your throat. The best you could do was a smile, which Tecchou returned with mercy.

It wasn't funny, but neither was dying.

this probably should be longer but like yolo

[xopearlz]

pinky promise | katniss e.

𓆉 katniss everdeen x fem reader

summary: katniss made you a promise before the games, and now that she’s back she’s going to keep it.

cw: fluff!!, little angst, but not much, rain kiss scene bc why not??? sfw!!

a/n: first ever post!! might not be the best as im not that good at writing yet but thats ok. beginning takes place before the games and the end takes place after, time jumps are divided by a dash (-)

wc: 1.1k

your hands brush past the rough bark as you move briskly through the trees, keeping your eyes out. you hear a snap of a twig, causing your movements to halt as you listen closely. a hand places itself in the small of your back, causing you to let out a small gasp as you jump away, turning. you smile once you see who the hand belonged to, walking over.

“gosh, you scared me! you have to stop sneaking up like that.” you grin, katniss smiles back.

“if you’re going to be out in the woods, you have to focus better on your surroundings. who knows whats out here.” she replies and you roll your eyes playfully. she reaches out a hand which you take, interlocking your fingers as they brush against her slightly rough skin.

she leads you further into the woods, stopping at the edge of a lake. you let go of her hand and head to the edge, sitting upon a big rock that rests besides the water. you dip your fingers in, relishing in the cool sensation. katniss watches you for a moment before walking over and sitting besides you. you turn to her with a soft smile and she reaches a hand to brush the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“you always look so pretty, especially surrounded by nature.” you blush slightly, turning your head to look at the lake. she smiles at your reaction.

“i’m serious, you really do.” she says softly, watching over your features, her thumb gently brushing your cheek as she holds the side of your face in her hand.

you and katniss had been seeing each other in secret for a while, not wanting to risk anything with the chance of getting reaped still present for the next few years of your lives. you had known each other for only a few years, but it felt like forever. you chew gently on the inside of your cheek, thinking about the reaping which was upcoming in the next few days. katniss noticed the change in your face and her brows gently furrowed.

“what is it?” she asks, causing you to turn back to her. “what’s wrong?” you sigh softly.

“it’s just the reapings… what if one of us gets picked?” a slight hint of worry is in your voice. her hand still cups your face gently.

“it’ll be fine, they won’t take you from me. i won’t let them.” you shake your head slightly.

“but what if they take you?” she looks you in the eyes, gaze unwavering.

“i’ll come back to you. then we can be together.” you nod before holding up your pinky.

“promise?” you ask, to which she smiles softly.

“promise.” she confirms as she wraps her pinky around yours.

-

you sat on the couch, blunt nails digging into the armrest as you watched the broadcast of the annual hunger games. katniss had volunteered for her sister primrose who had gotten picked, and many things have happened since then. for starters, the male tribute, a bakers boy named peeta, declared he was in love with katniss. to make matters worse, you had to watch them as they kissed. you barely focused on the games after that, tuning in from time to time to get an idea wether or not katniss had survived, yet the bitter feeling of jealousy washed over you. you were never officially together, only in secret, so you couldn’t really be mad. maybe katniss just found something better and assumed because it was private then there wouldn’t be a point in discussing it. your stomach churned at the thoughts.

-

the day had come of katniss’ return. of course, she was returning with her newly found lover, yet all that mattered was she survived. at least, that’s what you tried to believe. you couldn’t ignore the feeling that washed over you when you saw the two of them get off the train together, holding hands. you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around and going home rather than trying to greet the other. you also couldn’t stop yourself from staying locked in your house, avoiding any possible encounters with katniss. you could only avoid the inevitable for so long, however.

you find yourself back at the lake you were at only a few weeks ago, watching the small tadpoles swimming around the clear water. there’s a light sprinkle of rain, raindrops falling softly onto your face. you don’t sit on the rock as you did before, instead standing off to the side. you feel a presence, causing you to turn around. you were greeted by katniss who offered a small smile.

“guess you started focusing on your surroundings.” she says slightly sarcastic. you chew on the inside of your cheek, turning back towards the lake. katniss’ smile drops as she walks over.

“hey, what’s wrong? you’ve been avoiding me ever since the games…” she starts, reaching her hand towards yours. the metallic taste of blood slightly fills your mouth as you bite harder down. you focus your gaze on the tadpoles.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, considering your new ‘star crossed lover.’” you mutter. she brings a hand to cup your face and turn your head towards her. your gaze finally meets hers, her hands are softer than before.

“he’s not my lover. it was for the games.” she breathes out a small sigh through her nose. “you are my lover, nobody can change that.” she smiles, and you feel your heart quicken.

you had been jealous of the boy, enough to not see the accomplishment katniss had made by winning the games. you offer a soft smile, shaking your head slightly.

“i guess i was jealous.” katniss lets out a small laugh.

“why?” you gently bite on your lip, looking down.

“because he got to kiss you.” katniss is silent for a moment, her thumb brushing your cheek.

“he doesn’t get to kiss me now.” she says quietly, causing you to look at her once again. her eyes are soft and she smiles slightly, and she starts to lean in. your eyes flutter shut as her lips meet yours. her lips are slightly chapped, but you could care less. she had come back to you. 

the rain seems to fall harder as you wrap your arms around her neck. after a while, you both pull away to breathe. you smile at her, fingers brushing through her hair she had chosen to keep down.

“i told you, i promised you.” you nod, giggling slightly. you take a moment to look her over, sensing a new level of maturity she gained from the games. even at sixteen, she seemed older.

“what?” she asks, causing you to focus.

“you’re just so pretty.” you say, and she smiles. you giggle slightly as she places another soft kiss on your lips.

she takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers together. you lean your head on her shoulder and look back to the lake, the rain going back to a slight drizzle as it splashes gently on the water.

[theworldofotps]

The Nights (Drabble)

Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Counter: 780 Description: He's just trying to get over the thought of you.

Loosely based off the song Stick Season _______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @hotgirlgraps @madhatterbri @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @alyyaana @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. Hook Tag list: @wickedval ________ Another night, another cloud of smoke encircled his head as he sat on his fire escape watching the city buzzing by. His phone lit up illuminating his face as he read it hoping but knowing it wouldn’t be a text from you.

‘We’re really worried about you man nobody’s heard from you in a week least let someone know you’re okay.’ Setting the phone back on his lap Tyler took another inhale of the joint holding the smoke until his lungs burned then blew it into the dark night sky. Of course, he was okay well at least physically he was but emotionally he probably wouldn’t be the same ever again. Not after losing the most important person in his world.. “This is going to be amazing mamas I can’t wait for you to come back to New York I have so much for us planned.”

Tyler smiled as he put away the last of the laundry making sure his apartment was clean and suitable enough for you. The line remained quiet with the only sound being the tires on the road before you let a breath out. “Actually, I’ve um changed my mind.” He didn’t know this but at the time you spoke these words you passed his exit and continued driving. “I’m sorry what?” “I know it’s a shitty thing to do on the phone but I’m going up to Canada to visit a friend for a few weeks. I didn’t know how to tell you and honestly wasn’t sure how I was going to.” “Why didn’t you just say anything?’ “Because breaking up over the phone isn’t something I planned to do but I think it’s for the best. We’ve been growing apart with your traveling and my work schedule. I’m tired of not seeing you and of not having a boyfriend close by. I’m sorry this is the last thing I wanted to have happen, but I think it’s for the best.”

Thinking back over that night all these weeks later and if he was honest with himself, he knew something wasn’t right. You had been acting weird ever since the two of you started making plans for a visit, you’d trail off or switch the subject to something else.

He was still dealing with all the feelings that came from having a relationship suddenly end, he felt pain that he never experienced before not even in ring. His chest was heavy and often felt tight, he was angry that you wouldn’t even give him a chance to try and make things better or reassure you it would work out.

But he knew it wasn’t just all on you, he’d been a bit too busy with work and didn’t call you as often as he should have. He never imagined he would be at this end, sure other relationships failed but he always had faith that yours would last. And now just like that you were gone, you who was supposed to be Tyler’s future. The love of his life the person he hoped to marry someday not that he ever got the chance to ask you.

Despite the breakup being over two months ago he still felt like he did the night it happened; felt like a whole opened in his chest. It got worse because he saw your mother recently. She stopped by to pick up some of your things and told him that you were taking it hard despite everything she knew that you loved him. It helped a little but not enough to make him want to rejoin society.

He'd called a couple of times and even sent a few texts to try and see if he could change your mind but you never returned them. Tyler knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to get back to real life. Tony was trying to be understanding and give him time, they wrote him off with an injury, but he knew he needed to get back. Most days he spent smoking trying to numb the longing and loneliness he felt for you, but no matter how much he smoked he still thought about you. At night was the worst when the rest of the world was silent his mind and dreams were plagued with different versions of you. No matter what he tried he just couldn’t escape it all. Tyler knew in time he would get over you, knew that one day in the future you’ll be nothing more than just a thought in his mind. As for now? He would just have to take it a day at a time trying to get over loving you.

[djtommotomlinson]

last november i was in china when my little brother called me and told me to come home. over summer my nan, my mums mum, had passed away before i had managed to get back to see her and my mum, my best friend in the world, had a heart attack soon after. i was with her then. we went to the funeral. she got better. we saw robbie williams live. we went out drinking and to the beach and watched coyote ugly and la la land together, our fave movies.

when my brother called me to tell me mum had cancer i knew it was bad. i lost my best friend to cancer when we were just 16 years old. thats never a good word. but its my mum. and to quote her days after her own mums death 'i always knew one day my mum would die but i never knew she would, like, actually die'.

i knew in the back of my head why i was going home but i didnt believe it. i watched spiderverse for like the third time on the plane. i went to grab my suitcase and laughed when i realised i was at the wrong shanghai - gatwick conveyor belt. who knew there were two at almost the same time.

then my brother, my baby brother, who is 30 next year but was 28 and always our baby brother, called me and my life is never ever going to be the same. i knew the moment he called. and i sat on the floor at gatwick airport shaking and people kept coming over to ask if i was okay and finally my sister and my aunties, my mums sisters, arrived and they were let into the baggage area when they explained and picked me off the floor.

i dont think this is a grief that has settled yet. i was meant to see louis that night. i havent listened to a song by him since despite his music getting me through some of my hardest times. my denial, she'll walk through the door and say this was all a joke, phase went on for months after we planned and executed a funeral and wake on the beach in malta. i made a great playlist, i wrote a great eulogy. i did that but it didnt properly sink in why.

i still, almost a full year on, wake up and think about messaging her to tell her how im feeling and check in on her.

my mum used to send me one direction news she found on facebook every day. harrys got a new album emmy did you know? and i was like no mum wow thank you (of course i already knew). she loved niall and we were going to see him live together. she wasnt a big fan of louis' music but ached for what he'd been through. i woke up the day after hearing about liam expecting a text from her checking in because she got me 1d tickets in 2014 for my 23rd birthday and she brought me merch and the dvd of the movie -

my mum who hated the beatles because they were too mainstream but loved what i loved because i loved it and was passionate about it. god she would have been crushed for me today. she would have been heart broken.

and i think this has hit me like a train not only because everyone who knows me knows how much i loved liam as if he was my own friend, but also because this past year has been so full of grief i dont always know how to get out of bed. my dads mum passed a few months ago. my family are wrecked with it. this past year has been a nightmare we can't get out of.

i always related to liam as someone who was bullied at school and as someone who suffers from mental illness and has suffered from alcoholism, thankfully, for me, something ive managed to come back from and im sober and i always hoped for that for him. its such a hard fucking mountain to climb and i didn't have to deal with the fame side of it and this whole other thing he had to carry. i always wanted him to get better but in the back of my head i had this feeling, i had this fear that i would one day log into tumblr and see the worst.

i still cant, and im sure for a long time won't, believe this real. thats one of my boys. we were very much meant to get old together. i wanted to see him get better. i cant begin to comprehend the fact he wont have that chance. this still doesnt feel real to me man. thats my boy.

just a few days ago I was in a convenience store and they were playing heart meets break and i was jamming and excited to hear my boy in a store. i keep remembering its happened, and i look at the photo on my bedside of me and my mum at the robbie williams concert and i could really do with her right now. a link to a facebook article and her over use of emojis - a shocked and crying face and a broken heart. because what else can express this?

i know i didnt know him but i always had the comfort of knowing of him, of listening to his music and watching his videos and feeling less alone in a cruel and lonely world.

its okay to be a fucking mess, if you can take time out please do. i wish this world allowed more of that. after my mum everyone had to go back to jobs and life and it still blows my mind that i was walking down the street then and today and everything was the same. the world should pause but it doesn't.

at the end of all of this, one day this might settle and make sense but right now it doesnt at all and thats how these things work. i love you all, this is not something i thought we would have to face until we had all grown old and spent all of our money on reunion tickets and seen our boys grow old and live their lives.

give people you love a hug, tell people you love that you care about them, work out problems and differences if you can and make the most of it. you never know how much time you have.

[heartssatoru]

Hey! I love your HCs so far! If you do smut could you do JJK men wanting to have sex or are horny and how they go about asking you/initiating it? (Gojo, Megumi, Sukuna, and Itadori)

Yes of course! I know a lot of my readers request fluff so if you don't like smut im so sorry😭

Characters: gojo, megumi, sukuna, itadori

Warnings: smut smut smut!! Afab reader

I have a few request im working on, to all the others that requested! :)

Gojo

In public:

Starts off flirty but then becomes needy cause he's extremely horny

At a date

Slips up and tells you a dirty joke by accident. And does that little giggle

It maybe depends, because there's times where he thinks he can hold it but can't

Most of the time he hints it. If you don't get it then he'll say it shamelessly

Doesn't care if its in public or not. He just wants relief.

He kinda does care😭 but doesn't at the same time.

Bathroom, alley way, really whatever. Tries to make sure no ones really there though

Someone spots you two? Oh shit let him finish atleast

Tells you to just relax but it's extremely hard when his cock is pounding into you

If your hiding your moans then he'll make you either way. Cause that's just offensive to him

Will deny your organsm if you hide them too. So lesson learned

Megumi:

At home:

Tries to ignore it. But its too much to even ignore, wouldn't be surprised if you could notice

Prefers to hint because he feels embarrassed. No matter how much you tell him he doesn't need too.

You already know because that's always how he gets when he's horny

Doesn't want to risk being caught. And he always makes that clear.

Always at home no matter what. He can wait, maybe..

Excusing that, he skilled with his fingers, and always uses his fingers to prep you

He doesn't want to cause you pain. Really just pleasure for both of you.

Will be a little hard or deny your organsm if he's having a bad day. But still will let you cum

By the time he's done you guys will be fast asleep, but always makes sure you fall asleep first.

Sukuna

anywhere, literally doesn't care:

Will straight up tell you. Maybe if you don't take so long he'll actually be nice to you.

1% chance of that. But its better then nothing!

Will fuck you anywhere. Unlike gojo, he has nothing to worry about

Doesn't even care if anyone sees. They'll simply see how much of a slut you are for his cock

Said by him of course

Does it for his own pleasure, if he's feeling nice he'll let you cum

Also if you try and touch yourself then thats another reason why he shouldn't.

Abuses your poor cunt, especially with his size

Rough, but knows your limits. Maybe goes aganist them every one in awhile to see your fucked face

Cause it drives him near the edge even more.

Itadori

Feels guilty each time so he always tries to go on without anything

However if he's desperate will beg you to let him fuck you

Makes sure your comfortable and everything. Sweet as hell

But just because of that dont expect to not be teased

Will always let you cum though, unlike the others, besides megumi

Goes gentle, unless you want it hard he can do that. Just doesn't want to hurt you

Asks every once in awhile just to make sure your comfortable and everything

No matter how tired he is, will still try to clean you up afterwards

Gives you the best care. Would feel guilty once again, if he didn't