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#or whenever they nap together
starrysymphonies · 1 year
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What if they were all in love huh? What then?
+ bonus doodles (one of which is an idea I had where Noah rejoins in Niagara Brawls and forms an alliance with Heather later in the season)
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😴
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I can’t stop thinking about the idea of Regulus and James in the Gryffindor common room, sharing an arm chair but Regulus is passed out on top of James.
And James just puts a blanket on Regulus so he stays warm and can sleep good. James doesn’t move because Regulus is not only on his lap but tangled with him. And moving would mean waking up Regulus.
So he just stays there until Regulus wakes up. (Despite the fact half way through this James started to really need the toilet).
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the-rogue-mockingjay · 3 months
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6 + 10 for the wol questions 🥺
ty gigi!! /dote 🩷
6. how does your wol feel about romance? are they a hopeless romantic, waiting for The One, or are they more casual? do they believe in soulmates?
O'ravi has some mixed feelings on it lol. In her youth she was something of a hopeless romantic, though it wasn't something she actively searched for (her priorities were more on traveling and learning every piece of music, art, and folklore she could get her hands on). She's always wanted a good, solid relationship, but she also hasn't considered it something attainable for most of her life tbh. She also just never really met anyone she had a connection with/felt attracted to (she's ace and autistic so it's a double whammy of not only are such feelings extremely rare, it's super difficult for her to identify what those feelings are when she has them ldkjfhdkjg).
Her feelings for Haurchefant had started shifting into the romantic in the time leading up to the Vault but she didn't recognize it until. Well. 🥲It was too late. She'd had a very fleeting like 3-day crush on Aymeric when she met him in ARR but after the initial 😳💕 he was just an ally/friend to her. She did eventually fall in love with Aymeric for real (in the days after the Royal Menagerie to be specific; it had been building for a while), and it tore her to shreds inside because she felt that even just being friends with him was putting his life in danger, by virtue of the death and chaos that follows her, Twelve FORBID she became romantically involved with him- in her mind, that'd be no different than going and personally shooting him dead fldgjkhfdkjgh. She didn't stop believing that until after the ENW finale, when she was finally, decisively free of her fate.
She wholeheartedly believes in soulmates, but not in the romantic sense, necessarily; her definition of it is someone who you will reunite with and love in every lifetime, regardless of the type of that love. The list of people that she considers soulmates includes Themis, Aymeric, Haurchefant, Hythlodaeus, and Emet-Selch. Zenos goes on that list too depending on the day, other days she hates him and finds him repulsive lfkjghfdjkgh. Regardless of how she feels, she fully expects to see him in every lifetime from here out, though. She has very mixed feelings about that.
10. how does your wol sleep? very light? very heavy? do they need a specific item to fall asleep, or does it take them forever? where do they prefer sleeping?
O'ravi's a very light sleeper, always has been, and she hates sleeping alone (her tribe doesn't do that, they typically prefer to share space or sleep in sort of cuddle piles if the temperature gets low enough where that's an option). When she first left home and began traveling Eorzea alone, it was a huge adjustment. She's also always been someone who dozes off for 5-10 minutes in the weirdest places (a la those pics of actors sleeping between takes in random nooks on movie sets), and now that she has fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue post-ENW, she's doing this more than ever. Catch her taking cat naps in the sun in between Dawntrail MSQ objectives 😂
After Operation Archon, she started getting nightmares on a regular basis, and this just continually got worse over time. I think she also struggles with insomnia, the intensity of which varies but was worst during Endwalker and Stormblood. Now, a year or two post-ENW, she still has these problems (and will for the rest of her life), but they're semi-manageable.
Her favorite place to sleep is cuddled up to Aymeric 🥹 she unofficially moved in with him a long time ago (sometime between Final Steps of Faith and Post-Dragonsong MSQ) and originally had her own room, but after ENW his room became her room too and it's probably the place she feels safest tbh
[pre-dt wol asks]
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soopysoap · 6 months
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honestly tho. ive gotta say that my absolute favorite grease phase is def them sophomore/junior year of hs. close second is them raising lily II probably
#LISTEN#its abt them having just#the most dramatic fucking relationship#in the history of teenagers#no fuck that actually they have the most Teenage Relationship in the history of relationships probably#like. its abt unspoken devotion to each other at the ripe ages of 15-16 without even REALIZING what it is#its about them being so god damn obsessed with each other - so OBVIOUSLY obsessed with each other- that literally everyone can see it#EXCEPT FOR THEM#its abt their incessant bickering to the point where they drive each other half insane BUT#there is always a layer that runs deeper than either of them that is just an unspoken understanding#its abt knowing each other better than literally anyone else in the world and KNOWING that the other person knows them this well just as#much as they know them but still refusing to admit that they care abt the other person#ITS ABT BEING INSANELY JEALOUS AND PETTY OF ANYONE WHO EVEN /MIGHT/ HAVE THE SAME BOND#AND BEING SO. TEENAGER. ABOUT IT.#like chris just all of a sudden becoming obsessed with showing off and proving that hes Better than gregorys partners#and gregory js sulking and pouting and getting snappier and more annoyed whenever the person christophe chooses to pretend hes half as#obsessed with walks into the room#they r so god damn#insane#and entertaining. and i love them#its abt napping together and hugging each other like the other person will literally disappear the second they let go at the ripe ages of#16-17. literally my favorites#grease (real)
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shayberri789 · 2 years
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I will never be over the fact that my allo brother was the first to get into a qpr
And I, the only aromantic he knows, who taught him about qprs in the first place,
WAS THE LAST TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT
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aroacesigma · 10 months
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awwwwww
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lesenbyan · 1 year
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Today has thoroughly sucked
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hozier-self-titled · 1 year
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I have covid and im on my period whilst its my birthday but my girl treated me to this cute day out in town and bought me a keith haring shirt from primark and treated me to a caramel frappe and a pepperoni pizza slice from greggs so its been a 10/10 day
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nochepsicodelica · 1 month
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Even more bear boyfriend Toji thoughts, because when is he not on the mind?
Naps, naps, naps, and more naps. He drags you into naps with him all the time. If he's going to nap, you best believe you're taking a nap too. He uses very little of his strength when it comes to holding you because he doesn't want to crush you or make you uncomfortable, but sometimes you try and fight your way out of his arms because you don't want to take a nap. You're not tired, but he is, and it's truly not his fault he grew accustomed to holding you whenever he's sleeping. It's become a habit now and he can't sleep at all without you around. Moments when you don't want to nap are when he does have to hold onto you a little tighter so that you tire yourself out as you try to free yourself from his arms. Eventually, you surrender and stop wasting your efforts on something impossible, and Toji lets out a satisfied sigh, before burying his face into the crook of your neck. You fall asleep at three in the afternoon and don't wake up until eight at night sometimes because when you start to stir awake, he hums and coos at you in his sleepy voice. It's always 'Not yet, mama. Still tired...' and 'Stop moving, pretty...' or 'aw, looks like you still need sleep, baby. I'll sleep with you, don't worry...' Supposed naps turn into hours of sleep with him :(
Will pull on your clothes for many reasons. You're on the phone, leaning against the kitchen counter and he's tugging on the back of your shirt to get you to turn around and look at him. You nod at him in question and he just grins before latching onto you from behind, burying his face into your back. If you're adventuring together, walking around and you start to wander off without him, he tugs on the hood of your sweater and brings you back to where he is, making you walk those same steps all over again, this time with him. Sometimes he'll pull down the neckline of your shirt to look at your boobs just because he's a total perv like that.
Size kink who? Size kink Toji. Loves knowing he's bigger and physically stronger than you. He loves when you shove him during a fit of anger, because he's grounded—he doesn't move at all and it pisses you off even more. When you refuse to talk to him after an argument that's gone on for too long (an hour </3) he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You can kick and yell for him to put you down all you want, but he won't put you down until the argument is resolved. He can't have you trying to run off every time you're in a room together. He cages you in with his arms sometimes, when he wants to be all you can see, hear, smell and feel. You should be just as obsessed with him as he is with you. He uses this proximity to steal as many kisses from you as he wants, really taking the opportunity to showcase how small you are compared to him when you can't move from the position he has you in.
He's a total bear even when it comes to his bouts of jealousy. Someone stares at you for more than three seconds and he's quick to block their view of you. He stands beside you, covering you so that the stranger gets a view of his back, instead. If you're standing in line at a restaurant or coffee shop, waiting to order something and someone keeps chatting you up after you've continuously let the conversation die, he steps in. Especially, if he notices that their eyes wander away from yours, to your lips or your chest, wherever. He's not loud about it verbally, but the way he'll just pull you back a few steps into him so he can wrap himself around you screams possession. You laugh off the gesture and finish off your response to the stranger. They don't try to talk to you anymore afterwards because the way Toji stared daggers at them was scary.
Toji constantly reminds you that you're more than enough for him. When you cook for him, when you spoil him in return with things you think he may like. He always loves them because you bought them for him. There are moments when he turns from this ferocious, obsessive, enormous bear, to the smallest, most adorable cub. He's a little more quiet, but his eyes are just as expressive. He stays in one spot for a while even if you're not there. He doesn't go looking for you, he can hear you whistling as you wash dishes, but it's not like he doesn't want you around. He just thinks sometimes. Thinks about how good things are with you—thinks about what he has and he feels like he could be crushed by it all. These are the moments where you step in and make him feel extra loved. You tell him that he's good to you and that he makes you feel safe. You tell him that you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. Up until one of those moments, there was always the dilemma of whether he was a sunrise or a sunset. You finally made your decision. "You're my sunset, baby." You always know just what to say to bring him back. Toji laughed because it made absolutely no sense, but you loved on him after saying it, like it was something real— like it's normal to categorize someone as a sunrise or sunset. Regardless of how dumb it sounds out loud, if he's your sunset, you're his sunrise.
(NSFW Below)
His hands are enormous. His fingers are long and thick and he loves being able to hold you down with just one of his hands while he works his fingers in and out of you. While you squirm and whimper in his lap, embarrassed at the mess you're making on his pants, he simply coos at you, finding the whole thing endearing. You can't control the mess you're making on him. He can, and he doesn't want it to stop. Sometimes, during moments like this where you're all teary eyed in his arms, your body trembling and trying to shrink against him as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you, he wants to hold you so tightly in his arms that you genuinely struggle to breathe or maybe crack a rib. The kisses he presses into the side of your face actually sting at some point because of the way he's so harsh and he's nipping at your skin. He wants to bite your shoulder so hard that he draws blood, he wants to pinch your tummy until his fingers leave marks on it. His bouts of cuteness aggression are no joke.
Loves when you try to take control, always so confident that you can do it, that you can ride him until you both cum. He's not gonna say anything, but he knows how you are, so he just lets it happen. His hands are on your hips, your hands on his chest as you bounce on his dick for as long as you can. You can feel yourself growing tired. Your chest is heaving and your thighs burn from the exertion. Your moans are released into the air through heavy breaths, your eyes twinkling as you realize you're right there. "C-Can't, I can't... so tired..." and Toji just looks up at you with the most lovestruck expression, a tint of pink dusted on his cheeks. You're adorable. "That's okay, mama. Let me." And he lays you onto your back, before finishing you off and finishing himself off. He cradles you afterward like you're something temporary that he doesn't want to let go of and you both end up falling asleep.
Sighhh Toji is a total bear boyfriend </3
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doeidawn · 3 months
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18+ MDNI
simon has told you countless times before that civilian life is tough for him. every time he comes back home from deployment, there's a tension in him that's hard to soothe. as rough as military life was, it gave him a purpose, made him feel like everything he did—down to the food he ate—was for something. it's not like that back home.
he doesn't like to sit around and do nothing all day. and you've told him that he owes it to himself to relax, to just sit down and enjoy the mundane. that's what being home is for, you'd remind him. but it's hard for him.
you've found it's a little easier for him to relax if you're doing it with him. so you'll invite him to watch whatever you've got on the tv, or ask if he wants to take a midday nap together. it gradually gets easier over time. he resists less each time you ask.
but you don't fail to notice how much he fidgets, like his very being is uncomfortable with sitting still unless it's for work. he's always moving somehow, fingers itching to do something.
the solution he came up with? he's got his hands on you whenever possible. it's easiest to relax when you're moaning in his ear.
even now, when there's a movie playing on the tv in front of you, simon has you sat on his lap with your legs spread in front of the screen. his head rests in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses on your jaw, and he's still able to keep his eyes on the screen so you don't scold him about 'not paying attention' later.
of course, it's not like you're paying attention either. hard to when he's got two of his thick fingers knuckle-deep inside your slick cunt. he pumps in and out at a steady pace that has your toes curling and your head falling back against his shoulder. the wet squelches that sound out every time he pushes in and curls his fingers is more enticing than the people on the screen, anyway.
"gotta take care of my girl," he'd coo in your ear. his fingers slide out and up to your swollen clit. he presses gentle circles around it before patting your sensitive skin with just enough force to make you squirm. "and gotta make sure she's gettin' enough attention, too, huh?"
right now, his only focus was on making you cum hard. he knew that angle to take to make sure his fingers hit deep inside, making your back arch off of his chest. your slick walls hugging and pulsing around his thick digits until you're squeezing tight and flooding his hand with your cum.
"that's it, baby," he groans, panting with you like he'd cum in his pants from just the sight of you. his fingers spread you open, sliding through the obscene slickness. "such a pretty fuckin' sight."
regardless how much you mewl and moan and whine, he doesn't stop until you're shaking, until you can't give him any more. but when that happens, he moves his hands off of you, letting you get comfortable so you can doze off with your head in his chest while he rubs your back in soothing strokes.
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gojonanami · 5 months
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR HOT COWORKER WANTS TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD, OF COURSE YOU'LL SAY YES !! ❞
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✧ pairing: vampire! choso kamo x f!reader
✧ summary: choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, coworkers to lovers, vampire!choso, vampire bites are an aphrodisiac for both the vampire and the victim, no real dub/con b/c these two are already down bad for the other, mutual pining, scent kink, blood kink, blood sucking from neck / wrist, implied masturbation (m!), oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / yume041624
✧ wc: 7,193
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It wasn’t as if you weren’t sure your coworker hates you—
 You were sure of it. 
He avoided you like the plague whenever the two of you were working on the same project. He always did his best to reply over email, avoid in person meetings, and he always seemed to get sick whenever the two of you had to greet the client together. But you didn’t know why — you hadn’t done anything to offend him, unless he had mistaken your hello for spitting in his face. And that wasn’t even the worst part. 
The worst part was that he was exactly your type — fucking hot. 
Dark locks tied into a bun with a few strands escaped its binding by the end of the day, his neat nails painted a dark purple that rifled through paperwork, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and lovely, deep eyes that barely had stolen a glance at you but you could spend a millennia exploring—
In summary, you had it bad. 
And he didn’t seem to know — or worse, he knew and he hated it. Or you. 
But maybe something could change today, you flicked a pen up and down between two fingers as you stole a glance at him across the now empty office, the two of you were stuck working overtime on this project for two days now. But he still had managed to avoid you — but not today when you were stuck in the same conference room sorting through boxes of files that your client insisted must be done today. 
You were getting some sleep at a hotel across the street, taking a quick nap and shower before returning, but Choso looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And you didn’t know why. 
You glanced up at him between sorting through boxes, and you saw him adjust his collar, loosening his tie, fabric gripped tightly under white knuckles. His head was hunched over, his expression hidden behind the box in front of him, but you saw a hint of red in his eyes. You bit your lip, now you were worried. 
Maybe for the wrong reasons. 
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“Choso, are you okay?” 
No, no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay after working overtime for two days straight. He wasn’t okay being stuck in this tiny, dimly fluorescent lit conference room reviewing files that would only prove fruitless and a waste of time for all parties, and what made it worse was you—
No, not you, his canines grew, sharp fangs digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lips, 
Blood. 
Your blood. 
The very thing running through your veins and arteries, pumping through every crevice of your body through your heart — crimson stained your insides as it would your skin if pierced or cut — and it was the very thing that Choso wanted more than anything else. 
But no, it couldn’t be anyone else’s — he bit his bottom lip as you stretched, your blouse and hair moving ever so slightly and exposing your neck — it had to be yours. 
He pressed his hand against his face, palm covering the bottom half of his face as he forced himself to avert his gaze from you, all too unaware of his thirst — the very same that pulled his muscles taut and made his mouth water at the thought of you. His face was flushed — that much was for sure, as he felt the heat radiate from his face. 
And he knew one thing for sure — that you were the one who’s blood would taste like the divine personified. But that’s why he had worked so hard to avoid you, to make sure he didn’t spend any time alone with you, lest his logic and sense fail him at once and he ends up with his fangs pressed to the nape of your neck at once. 
No, he had decided he couldn’t do that. There were far too many times he had seen other vampires find partners this way — succumb to the urge — the draw of bloodlust — only for their partner to grow addicted to the pleasure that comes from the bite, and the relationship only fell apart when it was the only thing holding the relationship together. The bite could only do so much, it was an aphrodisiac for both parties, but not a miracle worker — chemistry burns bright and fast, but it could not make love exist if it wasn’t there to begin with. 
And his avoidance of you had made any relationship between the two of you hard to happen — especially when every word you spoke sounded sweet and honeyed from those pretty lips. It didn’t help that he was reserved to begin with, but you made all words fall from his mind with only a glance — so what would a conversation do to him — much less a kiss? 
“Choso, have you reviewed this one yet?” You ask, grabbing a box from his side, “I finished my half so I thought I’d help you finish yours,” 
He shakes his head, “Go ahead. Thank you,” he barely manages through nearly gritted teeth, with barely a glance up — fuck, it didn’t help that you were always so kind, good at your job, and so pretty—
Fuck, the document he held crumpled under his tight grip, he shouldn’t have let it get this bad. Why had he let it get this bad? A few overtime shifts weren’t usually a problem for him — but being stuck with you? It was torture in the highest order — especially since he hadn’t been able to get home to his reserves at home and he had just run dry of the bottles he kept on himself this morning. 
He sees you stretch again, this time your neck, and a heat began to creep on as he watched right over the top of the document he read. 
Oh, he was so fucked. 
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You were going to ask him. 
You were going to confront him about why he avoids you. You had made up your mind — you were tired of walking on eggshells without a reason. If you were going to be stuck working with him on future projects, especially with this client, he needed to tell you if this was how it was going to be. 
And yet, you still sat, rereading the same document over and over, as the two of you were almost done wrapping up your work for the night. Choso was placing the last box he finished up away, a sigh stuck in his throat as he got to his feet. 
“I’m going to head home,” he gets to his feet, a sigh on his lips, as he rakes his fingers through his black locks, “do you need help cleaning up?” 
“No, I’m fine,” and he’s grabbing his things, as you bite your lip and stare at the shiny laminate of the conference table in front of you — fuck it, “I did have a question,” as he’s walking by in the doorway of the conference room, as your scramble to your feet, reaching for him, your fingers brushing his shoulder by mistake, and he’s tensing, “sorry, I didn’t mean—“ 
“It’s fine, what’s your question?” His reply is curt but he won’t even turn to face you, his fingers fiddling with the watch on his wrist. You furrow your brow, was it you or was his body shaking? 
“I just wanted to ask you if you had some sort of problem—“ and then his bag clattered against the floor, contents spilling out, as he supported himself against the door frame, slumped against it, as his fingers gripped it. 
You gasped, a quick brush of your fingers to his shoulder again, “Are you ok? Choso?” 
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Choso’s head swam — he could barely hear anything — every sound drawn out and garbled, as if he had plunged his head underwater and words were echoing in his ears. He felt his knees buckle under his weight — and he can’t think straight — and for a moment of clarity he realizes why—
Your touch — it was a spark amongst a field of wheat in a dry heat — and it was enough to set his entire body alight. And now—as he barely held himself together, muscles tensed and eyes fluttering — a haze of heat blazing ribbons up his body, and down — right to his cock. 
Fuck. He’s swallowing, his muscles taut, as he tugs at his collar, even the brush of his clothes against his skin enough to drive him to the point of insanity. And it doesn’t help that your scent fills his nose, honeyed and cloying and he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing the scarlet gaze would do nothing but elicit a scream. 
“Please leave,” he says through gritted teeth, he can imagine the concern written across your expression, “go—“ 
“I’m not leaving you like this alone,” fuck, you only draw closer, the brush of your fingers against his shoulder enough to have him nearly keening for your touch — he’d nearly do anything you want for one touch, one drop of your blood, but he can’t — he can’t, “do you need water? What do you need?” And you’re helping him sit down on the floor of the conference room, as he clutches his bag to his front, desperate for something put between the two of you. 
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I needed, just go,” he’s pleading, head falling back against the wall — his mind is hazy, he can barely think about anything else but you — the way your soft lips are pursed in worry, the way your hands are so gentle against his skin and would feel so good gliding across his body, the way when he saw the multitudes contained within your eyes, but he only wanted to live in the warmth of your loving gaze, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 
The words come as a confession, a last plea for you to leave, but you seemingly only chuckle, furrowing your brow, “how could you hurt me when you’re more terrified than I am?” 
And oh you were so ignorant that you were inches away from a monster — a rabbit in a lion’s den, while you thought of him as a sheep — and his words weren’t enough to convince you, but maybe something else would. 
His eyes flutter open to find your own, and he finds his own reflection in your irises — a blood red reflected back in your lovely gaze, as your mouth falls open, brow wrinkled, and breath caught. 
“I-I-what?” and he sees your confusion written across your face, your fingers shaking as they brush against his cheek. Your touch sets his senses alight, a soft groan as he leans into your hand, his nose brushes against your wrist, and the thrum of your pulse ringing in his ears. His gaze finds yours — half moonshine with how it’s glazed over, “how?” 
And his lips part, when your thumb drags down his cheek, hypnotized and entranced under a spell he didn’t mean to cast. He turns his head so your fingers catch on his lips, parting almost obediently, flashing fangs that has a flicker of confusion swallowed by horror and then consumed by fascination completely. 
“Choso, what is—“ 
“You should go,” he murmurs again, “you can’t give me what you need,” 
And you’re speechless, as if you wonder if you’re seeing what you are — but the longer you stare, the quicker it seems to sink in. You swallow. 
“So you need my—“ and the sentence is cut off seemingly by the absurdity of the situation, as you mutter to yourself, “this can’t be fucking real,” 
“It doesn’t have to be, you can leave right now,” he pants, sweat slipping down his forehead, and you’re still frowning. 
“What will happen to you if I leave?” And he can’t think straight enough to lie, your fingers find his neck, to check his temperature but all it does is drive it higher. 
“Nothing you need to worry about—“ 
“Well, I am worried,” you cut him off, squirming in place, “if you just take some of my blood, will that—“ 
“It’s not just that,” he’s shaking his head, fangs nearly grazing his bottom lip as he sighs, “do you know what your blood will do to me?” His eyes seem to flash, a chill down your spine, “but more importantly worry what it will do to you,” 
And you stiffen, the spell waxing and waning as fickle as the moon never was, and that the thing about humans — you could never count on them to be consistent as all other things were. A beast can be predicted — their moves largely the same, caution put before hurt, but man gained consciousness and lost all reliability. 
And you were no beast, not like him. 
“What would…it do?” Your words are hesitant, carefully chosen, small jumps across stones rather than a leap across a rushing river. 
And he lets the raging white water brush against your skin when his hand cups your chin, leaning closer and letting his breath warm your skin, “To reduce the pain, my bite is like an aphrodisiac,” his thumb rubs back and forth across your cheek, “you won’t be able to stop yourself, and since your blood would do the same to me — I wouldn’t be able to help myself either,” his nose brushes against your cheek, as he leans in to whisper in your ear, “you should go.” 
But you don’t, silence settles over the two of you, until you choose to break it,  “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 
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That’s what you had said — but how did that land you here? 
You both walked to your hotel room in silence, his flushed face hidden behind a mask, dead on his feet as he trailed behind you to the room. It was lucky you had a room right across the street from your workplace. You didn’t know what you would have done if you had to stay in the office — the blood would have been hell to scrub off the wood. 
And now here you sat after your shower, hair still damp as you toyed with the edge of your fluffy bathrobe, as you chewed on your lip. What had you gotten yourself into? You listened to his shower run, a sigh on your lips — it was fine. It would be fine. You just stick to the plan. You’d let him drink your blood, and he would lock himself in the bathroom — and you both would ride out your…symptoms alone. 
Fuck, you bury your face in your hands, what the hell are you doing? And that’s when the water stops — the quiet rustle and shuffling of himself in the bathroom makes your heart leap into your throat, as you sit looking down at the floor. 
“Are you okay?” his voice makes you jump even as you expect it, as your head snaps back to look at him. His black hair still wet from his shoulder, long locks clinging to his hair, droplets ran down his bare abs, your eyes following one down right to his happy trail only hidden away by his boxers— 
Fuck. 
He only continues to towel himself off, before grabbing his undershirt to pull it over his torso, as you choose to avert your eyes then — as if him getting dressed was any more scandalous than his shirtless state, “I am, I’m just a little—“ 
“You don’t have to,” and your eyes slide back to him, his face was still significantly ragged, dark bags and fatigue  clung to body worse than the water did — looking more like a corpse than a bloodsucker, “it’s not too late for you to leave—“ 
“No I decided I was going to help, so I’m going to,” you say, and his brow forms the same peaks and valleys he had all day — and you were sure his skin would remember the carvings at this rate, “what?”
“Why do you want to help me?” he mumbles, arms crossed, a distinct flush in his cheeks settling that surely wasn’t just from his shower, “I don’t get it, we barely have spoken—“ 
“We have spoken, our first week,” and his eyes snap to yours, “you may not remember, but you helped me,” and your cheeks burned, squirming in place as you couldn’t quite meet his gaze, “I had messed up on a project, I made a huge mistake on a document, one that could have costed the company a lot of money, and my job,” you murmur, “but you also took responsibility, even though it wasn’t your fault,” 
“I didn’t catch the mistake either, so it was my fault too—“ and you shake your head. 
“It was mostly mine still,” you offer a small smile, “and so if I can help you like this, I want to,” you shift, swallowing as an awkward silence falls over you both that you break, “why did you want to shower first anyway? You were ready to pass out earlier,” 
“I still am,” he admits, and you notice the subtle shake of his hands, “but I figured the shower would make us both feel a little more comfortable, and it helped to…calm me down,” he cleared his throat, and it slowly dawned on you, cheeks burning, “again, are you sure—“
“I’m going to close you off in the bathroom, and we should be able to ride it out — you said you don’t lose control of yourself or become violent,” and he shakes his head, “then it should be fine,” you have him draw closer, his soft steps against the plush carpet fell silent as he sat beside you on the bed. The creak of the bed as he sat on the other side a little awkwardly, “you should be closer,” and he’s nodding, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. 
“I know, I’m just trying to…prepare,” he gives a shaky sigh, “your scent is—“ he scrubs a hand down his face, “it’s hard for me to be around, especially when we’re so close,” 
“My scent?” And his hand covers the bottom half of his face, turned away, as he murmurs. 
“Your scent is particularly strong — it’s…enticing enough for me to be distracted all day if I don't keep my distance,” and the pieces sink into place. 
“You avoided me at work because of that?” And he nods, as you bite your lip, a small chuckle on your lips, “I thought you hated me,” 
And his head snaps to you, blinking, “I don’t hate you far from it—“ he cuts himself off, his fingers grip the edge of the bed, “I’ve seen you in the office — you’re always so considerate, kind, and you always try to help, even people who don’t deserve it—“ he cuts off, “I don’t want to take advantage of your—“ 
You move closer, his breath hitching as you shrug your robe off your shoulders, leaving only your bra covering your chest, “You do deserve it,” Fuck, he was so close — you could feel the need come off of him in waves, the soft pants of his breath as his eyes fluttered. And you offer your neck to him, brushing your hair away — a silent offer. 
You see him bite his lip out of your periphery, but he’s leaning down, warm breath fans across your skin, as he ran a finger down your neck, “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a raspy whisper, “you smell so good,” and you nearly shiver as his lips brush your skin — soft lips against your skin, the barest brush, as if he’s trying to acclimate you to his touch. But it only stoked a fire — the same flame burning even before today, the one that wanted more than a bite at the apple — you wanted him down to his core. 
His lips press another kiss to your neck, lingering longer, as he noses the skin there, and you’re biting your lip, the want bubbling into boiling need, “Please—“ you gasp as his fangs graze your neck now, the sharp points lightly dragging across the muscle, right before his fangs sink into your neck. 
Your lips part, head nearly lolling back into his warm palm cupping the nape of your neck. Any pain only registers for a split second before disappearing under whitehot pleasure. Your blood turns to heady wine straight from his bite, his muffled moan vibrates against you, sending a wave of heat right between your thighs. Your head spins, all logic melts with as the wildfire only consumes — leaving only want behind. 
Coherent thoughts don’t form — instead fractured thoughts spiral into a chant. You want more. You want more of his touch, his body, his words. You want him. 
You want him. 
And when he’s pulling his fangs from your neck, the sound of his teeth pulled from your skin only rings in your ears for a moment, before blood roaring in your ears replaces it. Burning — it felt as if every part of your body was aching, a deep throbbing with no end in sight. You glance at Choso — and only one cure. 
Fuck, his skin looks so lovely when flushed a pretty pink — nearly a scarlet that lit a trail up his neck and across his cheekbones all the way to his ears. The heavy pants that left his lips did little to assuage the desire for him — his defined chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his long jet black locks hanging like a curtain around his gaze. 
Your fingers are reaching for him, “Cho—“ and he’s shaking his head, as his muscles tense, as he leans away from you. 
“Give me a moment,” so you do — you pull back, and he’s rising to his feet, shaky still, but seemingly for a different reason as he turns and flashes the rising tent in his boxers. 
And you press your thighs together, wondering just how big he was — eyes fixed on the growing damp spot on his boxers — how he would shiver when you squee3/ him at the base in your hand, what sounds he would make when you’d flick your tongue against his weeping tip, and how he would moan your name when he sunk into you— 
You were so fucked — if your drenched panties were anything to judge by. 
“Choso, please—“ and he already knows what you’re asking for between the lines of your plea, and his eyes find yours, his dark gaze catches yours, ensnared in the blackhole that only pulls you under and apart, pinned underneath him. 
“It’s just the bite, we can’t,” he’s covering his lips, as he takes steps away from you, towards the bathroom, “we just have to wait until it passes. It won’t take too long—” 
“What if it’s not just your bite? Not for me,” you murmur, and the words are being spilled from your lips like honeyed truth with no bitter aftertaste, “it hasn’t been for me,” his brow is furrowing as if he can’t imagine a single person liking him, “I’ve spent the last year working with you and all i know is I wanted nothing more than to be the one you smile at — the same soft way you do when you your little brother visits you at work,” 
And he’s swallowing, a deeper blush on his cheeks, “you noticed?” 
“I also noticed how you always bring the person you work with their favorite coffee order, the way you try to make others feel valued when the company doesn’t even do it, and how you always do your best — even when it comes at your own expense,” it’s so easy to say these things, but it only makes you long for him more, “let me do more — let me take care of you—“ 
And he’s covering his mouth with his forearm, “do you know what you’re saying?” you slowly get up from the bed, taking careful steps towards him, “our heads are clouded, we aren’t—“ and he swears under his breath but he doesn’t resist your approach, the bathroom door right behind him, “I don’t want to hurt you—“ 
“Do you feel the same for me?” and his gaze softens as he meets yours, “because I get the feeling you do — at least you like my scent,” a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, “hopefully not just my scent?” 
And you didn’t know it was possible for a vampire to be this pink in the face, but Choso was — and you weren’t sure if it was your words or your closeness, “It’s not just your scent,” he’s mumbling against his arm until he’s pulling it away, to reveal his lips colored a faint scarlet from your blood, “I have feelings for you — I have for a while,” 
God, he was fun to tease, “What’s a while?” you’re murmuring, his lips part, flashing his fangs while he does. His eyes avert from your face, only to land on your neck, grazing over the bite mark he left, and you decide to spare him, “but if it’s been a while for you and for me, then—” he’s shivering again, a sigh caught in his throat, muscles tensed as if he was a tiger ready to pounce. 
“It’ll be hard to stop once we start — we should think—“ your fingertips brush his cheek, his eyes falling shut at your touch, the want inside you only grew, as you felt him lean into you. 
“Who said we’re going to stop?” and he breaks, his hand is sliding around your waist, tugging you closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his words nearly muttered against it. 
“Are you sure?” 
“I am—” and that’s all he needed. 
In a flash you’re pinned on the bed, blinking as you glance at the spinning ceiling fan for a moment before he’s leaning over you. 
His eyes are tinted with red and laced with desperation, fangs flashing as his fingers cup your chin and he leans down, “I’ll show you how much I like you, pretty girl.” 
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“Oh, Cho-so,” your arms are wrapped around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, his hot tongue dragging up the side of your neck, licking at the rivers of blood dripping down, “fuck, please—“ 
“Can’t waste a single drop, not when you taste so good,” he’s murmuring, nearly hypnotized by your taste — his sticky saliva and your blood mixed together, “fuck, I could kiss every inch of you and it wouldn’t be enough,” 
“Please, I need more,” and he’s chuckling, nibbling at the base of your neck, a whine parting your lips that made him nearly bust a nut then and there, “please—“ 
And his lips find yours in a searing kiss, fangs lightly biting your bottom lip, swallowing your gasps with a smirk, and how is it possible your lips are even sweeter? It was as if you were made of molasses, and he was more than happy to indulge. He parts your lips, dragging a thumb down your kiss bitten lips, your saliva clinging to his skin. 
“You know how long I wanted this? Had to touch myself in the shower to stop myself from pinning you the moment we entered the room,” he murmurs, recalling how his fingers had reached for his cock, already nearly covered in pre, his thumb running across his slit was nearly enough to make him burst. But it paled in comparison to the sight of you, disheveled under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, chest rising and falling fast, and your lips nearly begging him to kiss you again and again, “and now I want to take my time, love,” but he doesn’t, instead he bends down again, to nip and suck marks all over your skin, savoring the drops of blood he steals from each one — a constellation dotting your neck and collarbone to remind anyone that you were his. And his fingers find yours, just as he was yours. 
And you whimper, as he kisses his way down your arm, sweet pecks dotting down, until he reaches your wrist. He noses it, feeling the rush of your pulse underneath your skin, the sweet scent of your blood clouded his mind, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, as he flashes a gaze upward for your silent permission. You nod. 
Your nod was all he needed, before his fangs sinks into your wrist. It was potent — you were potent rather — he had grown used to his normal supply of blood, blood that he had acquired through the proper channels, and though it quenched his thirst, it never satisfied it. 
You were more than satisfaction itself — you were ecstasy incarnate, and he was utterly addicted from the moment he had his lips pressed against your lovely skin. Scarlet dripped from the bite and the corners of his mouth — the blood flooded his mouth, an unending pool of need that only grew with each second. 
And as he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips, he watched your eyes flutter open, legs spread for him, as he licked his lips clean. 
“Such a waste to let even a single drop go,” he drags his tongue up the rivulets of blood that ran down your wrist, and a whimper escapes your lips, and his lips curl, “what do you want, love? Tell me,” 
And you’re biting your lip, averting your gaze, but he’s guiding it back to his, “Choso, please, I need you to touch me,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, “please—“ 
He pulls your hand away, and kisses your lips again in a bruising kiss, before he’s pressing sweet kisses down your body, easing the straps of your bra down. He kisses the swell of your breasts, one after the other, making you squirm in place.
“Pretty girl,” he’s murmuring, his lips kissing each one of your erect nipples, caught in a thick haze of lust, “so good for me,” and he’s lighting a trail of kisses down your body, and he’s resisting the urge to mark up every inch of you — no, there would be time for that later, his eyes flicking up to meet your half lidded gaze, “gonna be good for me?” His skillful fingers slide under the elastic of your panties, snapping the fabric against you, making you gasp, “either way, I might just eat you up,” 
A shaky chuckle escapes your lips, “Promise?” And he chuckles, as he’s spreading your lips, leaning down to press a hot kiss to your inner thigh. 
“Be careful what you wish for,” his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before running over the mark with his tongue, before his fingers are running over your drenched panties, and it takes everything in him not to sink his fangs into your plush thigh, but no — he’s carefully tugging down your underwear down your legs — he had to stay focused. 
His breath catches at the sight of your dripping cunt and swollen clit, glistening with your juices that told him just how much you wanted this — and it was enough to nearly have him cumming in his boxers. And then the sweet scent of your precum becomes too much for him—
And he can’t wait. 
His tongue flicks against your clit, making a squeal escape your lips, fingers finding purchase in the long strands. It’s too good — judging by the way your hips nearly rut into his lips, while your own moans his name. But it was even better for him, as he groans against your pussy, licking the pre sticking to his lips. 
“How do you taste so good? Sweetest thing I’ve tasted, as good as every part of you,” 
You gasp when his fingers spread your folds, “Cho—“ and he’s circling a tip of one of his lithe fingers around your entrance teasingly. 
He hums lightly, “Can’t decide whether I want to use my fingers or my mouth, love,” he murmurs in contemplation, whilst his tongue teases your needy clit, “what do you think, baby?” 
“I need you—anything—“ and he’s licking a stripe up your sweet pussy, before he’s sinking a finger into your fluttering walls, “Choso—fuck—“ and the wet squelch of your cunt and the feel of your fluttering walls around his digit makes his dick twitch in his boxers, “s’good,” 
And you’re melting into his touch, your juices soaking his fingers and wrist as he fucks you with his finger, knuckle deep in your warm walls, rubbing at your clit with his thumb. 
And you’re so sensitive, every move of his finger has your walls squeezing him tight, his other hand sneaking into his boxers to palm at his erection, “Cho, I need more—“ and he’s adding a second finger to the first, fucking you deep until he finds that spot — and that’s enough for you to fall apart. 
You cum, back arching as you do, stars bursting behind closed eyes, as you moan his name. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around his fingers, thighs tensing around his hand. You come down from your high, chest nearly heaving from your pants, as he eases his fingers from your pussy. A soft sigh leaving your throat as your cunt flutters around nothing. 
Your eyes flutter open to see Choso licking his fingers clean — still sticky with your release — fangs flashing with the part of his lips, and you shiver at the sight. He’s leaning back down, pressing kisses to your thighs, before his tongue drags up your leaking pussy, making you gasp. 
“Please, Choso—fuck—“ and he’s smirking, glancing up with lips glossy with your release, placing a chaste kiss to your puffy clit, your eyes falling to his hand palming his boxers, “let me touch you—“ 
“Not yet, baby,” his tongue circles your slit, circles growing faster before sinking into your insides, nose bumping against your swollen clit, as he laps at your messy slit, “not until I’ve swallows every drop of you,” his fangs pinch at your clit. 
It’s already too much for you — your second orgasm sneaks up on you — a coil wound tight as he slurps and sucks at your cunt, all too eager to taste every last drop. And oh, he does — until he uses his thumb to rub at your clit, and it’s too much—
You squirt all over his face, soaking his face and fingers with your release, his lips more than eager to lap up every drop of it. Even as he pulls away, your cum is dripping down his chin, his dark eyes lidded as he looks up at you. 
And he can’t wait anymore—he needs to sink his dick into you. He’s licking his chin clean, pussydrunk on your cum, as he smashes lips to yours. Your moan is stifled as you taste yourself on his lips, tongue sneaking into your mouth as you part them for him. You hear the shift of the sheets as he tugs his boxers down, pulling his lips away only to finish kicking them off. 
But that’s not what you were looking at. 
Fuck, he was huge — his engorged tip was a deep red, large pearly beads of precum dripping down, while the rest of him was flushed a lovely pink. The veins that went along his length made gou tempted to trace them, mapping out his cock until you remembered every inch. You were hypnotized as your fingers reached for him, thumb flicking against his slit, before grasping at his base. 
He gasps, head lolling back, as you spread the pre along his length, beginning to pump him, “Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he’s covering his lips, cheeks flushed to match his cock, “please, I won’t last—“ and he nearly blows his load when your mouth sucks at the tip, before sliding his dick past your lips. your tongue tracing along the veins.
And a whine leaves his throat, as you start to bob along his length, spit and precum dripping down the corners of your mouth as you messily sucked at him. His hips jerk, as his fingers thread into your hair, tip brushing against his throat, it’s almost too much. 
He’s easing you off his cock with a tug of your hair, your lips parting with a pop, strings of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. And god, he wants nothing more then to pump his cock and let him spill all over your face. 
But no, no, he rather spill inside you. 
In an instant he’s gotten you onto your back,  the head of his cock brushing against your dripping cunt. He’s dragging the head of his dick against your dripping folds teasingly, making you squirm. 
“Please,” you’re whining, drawing a soft chuckle from him, as he’s lining himself up, groaning in unison as his tip bumps against your slit, “fuck, Choso, I need you—“ 
And he obliges, sinking into you inch by inch, a grunt from his mouth, “Already trying to swallow me whole, love? No need for that — I’m already giving it to you,” the delicious stretch of your warm walls pull him in deeper, stretching as he works himself inside your cunt, “so tight, baby,” and he’s finally bottoming out — cock twitching against your sweet cunt. 
He’s reaching places you didn’t think were possible, his 
You were far too tempting, “Please, Cho, please move—“ your words cut off with a gasp as his lips against your neck again, fangs piercing your skin as he bites you, right as he starts to slowly fuck into you. 
White hot pleasure rips up your spine — the bite and the way his cock fucks you enough for you to already cum around him, your mouth parted in moans, as your walls clamp down on him. He’s sucking greedily at your blood, and he wasn’t sure what was better, the way your sweet blood tasted against his tongue, or the way your release squelched around his dick, as he fucked it. And he barely registers that his cock is growing larger against your spasming pussy, but you sure do, as you moan his name. 
“S’big, Choso, too big,” you’re whining, as his hand presses against your lower half only to feel a slight bulge, and he only makes him want to thrust harder, too far gone to think — only one thought circling the drain of his pin sized perspective — that he wanted to fill you up, 
“Cho-so, please—“ and he doesn’t know what you’re asking him, to slow down or to go faster, as he pulls his fangs from you. And he could cum just looking at you — your forehead slick with sweat, while scarlet rivulets of your blood ran down the side of your neck, eyes blown out in such lust — and everything about your body begging him to fuck you more.  
“S’pretty for me, baby,” as he fucks you through your orgasm, another building in its place, as he watches his cock piston in and out of your fluttering cunt. And it feels too fucking good. And he’s leaning back down to lick up the blood staining your neck, as he gives a particular hard thrust that has you seeing stars, and he knows you’re close—and he knows he won’t last much longer — not with the way your vice grip cunt is squeezing around him. 
But you’re confirming it with your moans, filling his ears along with the lewd noises of skin slapping together, “I’m close—I’m—“ and he’s grunting in agreement, as his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, only to pull a breath away to ask: 
“Where?” And the flutter of your walls that pulls him impossibly deeper tells him the answer, but you reply with words as well.  
“Inside, please, need to feel you fill me—“ you cum then and there, words cut off with a moan of his name, and he’s fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts stutter as he grows close, before groaning and pressing another kiss to your lips, biting your bottom lip to draw blood, as he spills inside you, painting your insides with his hot release, fucking it inside you as his hips slow. 
He’s pulling away from your lips, pulling himself from inside you, a soft gasp leaving your lips, as he moans himself when he watches his seed mixed with your cum slip from your pussy. 
He’s caressing you, pressing sweet kisses to your face and neck, your quiet pants filling his ears like a metronome. 
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter open, lips curling slightly as you nod, a sigh on your lips. 
“I’m more than okay,” you press your lips to his again, a sweet kiss that grows more insistent as your tongue drags against the seam of his lips, before you hear a wet squelch, and your eyes open darting down to only find him stroking his cock, “Choso, are you—“ 
“Mm, the effect of your blood hasn’t quite subsided for me,” he murmurs, “but I think I can take care of it with—“ and he’s flipped onto his back, eyes blinking up as you, sitting on top of him. 
And he sees the blatant want in your gaze, as you begin to lower yourself onto his dick, a smile pulling at your lips, as your lust pulled him under and his cock inside you. 
“I told you I’d take care of you, Choso,” and you offer your neck to him again, dragging your wrist across his face, “so let me.” 
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“You’ll be working with Choso again on this project,” you have to bite back your smile, when you nod, “the two of you did a good job on the last one. Thank you for the overtime you put in. It did not go unnoticed,” 
“No problem, sir, anything for the job,” and your supervisor smiles, as you turn to leave, “I’m sure Choso would say the same,” 
“The two of you make a good team. I may pair you two together more often. Is that okay? I’ll have to run it by Choso, of course,” and you nod, hand already on the door knob. 
“I’m sure he would be more than okay with that, sir.” 
“Ah, baby, please just one bite?” Choso’s got you pressed up against the conference room door, “spending all day at work with you makes me so needy,” he mumbles against your skin, as he’s already unbuttoning your button up, the shirt already creased with he’s tugging it free from your slacks, “please,” 
“Cho, you had one this morning, it’s barely lunchtime, and you’re this desperate—” and he’s grinding his tenting erection against your clothed cunt, and your hand barely is able to make it in time to stifle your moan with your fingers, “fuck, fine, one bite, but don’t make a mess, this is a white blouse, babe—” 
He’s already tugging down your shirt, wrapping his arms around his middle, as his red tinted gaze meets yours in the shaded drawn window of the conference door. And now you were sure — your coworker loved you, even when you thought he didn’t.  
“Don’t worry, love, I won’t spill a drop.” 
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✧ a/n: this fic was weirdly hard to write. i was very stuck for a while. i couldn't figure out how to write it even though the idea struck me. but i hope you all enjoy <3 thank you for @laneysmusings and @gaylatteart for betaing and being the best moral support <3
✧ taglist: @yourwaifuhatesyou, @cira273, @kakashineedstotouchgrass, @whereismysane, @kaedeolgy, @keirangoldenwatch, @indieotterxoxo, @mua-for-now, @b3llair3, @evieslook, @shervinss, @saltymeow77, @svt-backup, @dazailover1900, @kentocalls, @yamaguccitadashi, @simply-a-s1mp, @rita-ritarita, @gorepain, @jupisloveletterz, @ice-echo26, @lemonpoppy-seed, @turtletaubwrites, @complexivelovely, @tiramatsumu, @strangehuman101, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @adrenova, @chosoitos, @stonecoldsensitive, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunamatic, @maetziniscool, @muichirosbestie, @monstrousbuu, @spider-fan72, @nakariabnrb, @petalshxwer, @talkativetranscendant, @fairyxgothic, @jupisloveletterz, @crystalkat6747, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @hotcocokiss, @angstigone, @sunnykento, @dantaku
5K notes · View notes
emphistic · 6 months
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Bf!Sukuna who sometimes calls you 'girlfriend' — and not in a flamboyant way
"Girlfriend, c'mere."
"What do you want, girlfriend?"
"Sure, girlfriend."
Bf!Sukuna who loves having your lips on his; he'll just randomly come up to you and slot his lips against yours without a word
Bf!Sukuna who walks around the house shirtless, and teases you by saying, "You should try it out," only to get a pillow thrown at his head
Bf!Sukuna who would pause his video game just for you
Bf!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, and cannot function without having you in a foot radius — but will never admit it
"I'm going to go get groceries now."
"I'll come with you," he said, immediately standing up from the couch.
"I thought you hated errands."
Sukuna shrugged, "'m bored."
Bf!Sukuna who spits in your food when you're not looking
Bf!Sukuna who, when he can't sleep, will just stare at you — a few times, you've woken up to his creepy crimson eyes staring back at you, and you socked him in the jaw
Bf!Sukuna who claims to hate your music, but whenever you two are in the car, he'll always let you handle the aux
Bf!Sukuna who purposely forgets to do your laundry so he can see you be forced to wear his clothes instead
Bf!Sukuna who is the king of keeping eye contact
Bf!Sukuna who'll hover around while you do your makeup and just ask random questions
"What does that do?"
"Why the fuck is it shaped like that?"
"It's almost as big as my dick."
Bf!Sukuna who steals your things and raises them above his head where you can't reach just to mess with you
Bf!Sukuna who never gets cold, and while that may seem like a good thing in the winter because you have a personal heat generator, it is the absolute worst during the summer — you have to ban cuddling because Sukuna is just too damn warm
Bf!Sukuna who doesn't help you bring in groceries, even if your hands are full
Bf!Sukuna who ignores you for the rest of the day if you forget to give him a good morning kiss, or good morning text (if you guys are temporarily apart)
Bf!Sukuna who is good at everything he touches
— a/n: kinda irrelevant if you ask me, but I just had to include this
Bf!Sukuna who pretends to forget if you guys have planned a date together
Bf!Sukuna who gets a hard-on when he sees your angry face; he loves having you pull on his ear and drag him away to a secluded area to hear you yell at him — he thinks you sound so sexy and look so hot
Bf!Sukuna who isn't above doing extreme pda when he sees someone staring at your ass
Bf!Sukuna who whines about going to work, claiming it's boring, but in reality: he just doesn't want to leave you — or vice versa: he doesn't want you to leave for work
Bf!Sukuna who swears up and down he doesn't want kids and hates children, but when he sees you taking care of his little brother Yuuji, he finds himself doing a mental 180°
Bf!Sukuna who goes into a trance staring at your ass
Bf!Sukuna who has no purpose for an Instagram account: you forced him to make one — he never posts on there, but when does, it's only pictures of you and occasionally him and you
Bf!Sukuna who has a drum set in your guys' shared apartment, but refuses to play it for anyone but you, and even then, he only plays to annoy you or wake you up from your nap
Bf!Sukuna who permanently quit smoking when he saw you plugging your nose near him
Bf!Sukuna who enjoys chasing you around the apartment, sometimes with a knife in hand just to make you extra scared
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk (pls lmk if u only want to be tagged in my boy nextdoor series or all of my work) @lillycore
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cyber333angel · 3 months
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somono with rafe !
rafe had just got home from a deal, more than a little ticked off because it didn’t go well. so of course he just wanted to go home and see his favorite girl to cheer him up and make him feel better. he walked into your shared bedroom seeing you take a nap, thinking you were probably waiting for him to come back home but fell asleep in the process. the two of you had decided some time ago, that you were allowed to use each other if one of you were asleep, knowing how needy the both of you get. so as he crept up to the bed and gently lifted the covers, revealing your body dressed in one of his shirts. he chuckled to himself knowing you like to smell like him whenever you missed him. he then lifted up the shirt, seeing your plump ass and the cute little panties you were wearing. sliding them to the side he sees your messy cunt, dripping with arousal. “fuck..” he mumbles under his breath, feeling his dick start to harden just from the sight. “so needy for me even when your asleep huh baby?” he unbuckles his pants and pulls down his boxers, exposing his large cock. he jerks it a couple times and holds the cloth of your panties to your ass cheek giving him space to inset himself. he plunges his cock onto your cunt, making you jerk in your sleep. your face cringing from the stretch. “oh fuck..taking this dick so good sweetheart.” he starts with slow thrusts, carful not to wake you but gradually picks up the pace as he starts to feel your wet walls clenching around him. he picks up a faster rhythm, a loud sounding of plap-plap-plaps coming from your pussy and you stir out of your sleep groggily, your eyes blinking awake as you try to understand what’s happening. “mmm ra-rafey?” you ask, gripping at the sheets with the bed creaking back and forth. your hips smacking against his skin, feeling a fullness in your tummy. “hey sleepy girl. you miss me?” you nod your head slowly gaining back all your consciousness, “yes i missed you so much!” you whine for him. you hear rafe mumbling little nothings under his breath, “i missed you too baby.. and this tight fucking pussy.” the praise mixed with how fast he’s going creates a sudden tightness in your tummy, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock. “s’really deep daddy..slow down a b-bit..” with his hands on your ass, he carelessly thrust into you. letting the fat of your ass bounces back on him, doing all the work. “your alright, being such a good girl for me. you gonna let daddy cum in this pretty little pussy? hm?” feeling yourself start to climax you nod furiously, a series of pleads coming from your mouth, wanting him to fill you up. “shit..” rafe mumbles under his breath, he cums hard into your cunt. the white liquid covering your walls as you whimper below him. your cunt spasming as your cum from his dick “mm f-fuck daddy..” rafe pulls out, watching the two of your mess mix together and drip out of your leaky cunt. “that’s my girl. cheered me up real good.”
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luveline · 4 months
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JADEEEE i'd love to see an interaction between hotch and teacher!reader outside of school? maybe jack sees her first and step away from hotch for a moment to say hi, hotch gets scared when he realizes jack left but reader comes with him just a moment later because she's panicking too like 'why are you alone? where's your dad?' and jack takes her to him. is that ok??? i hope so! love you <3333
I love you ty for your request! —Hotch flirts with Jack’s favourite teacher, because he’s never as subtle as he should be. fem, 2k
Jack reads a couple of books a week now his dad is home more often. His mom used to read to him some because he loves them, but she preferred to tell her own on the fly. His dad isn’t as good a story teller, and when he does try the stories don’t end up very happy, so they read. Sometimes two or three books a night if they're short ones. 
With Jack’s library card they can borrow ten books. With his dad’s, another ten. Twenty altogether, enough to last the month if they’re careful or if dad gets called away a lot, which he usually does. 
“Can I look for Super Pup?” Jack asks his dad. 
Aaron sits on a chair a little too small for him in the kids section. “What?” he asks, looking up from the back of the large picture book Jack’s just handed him. 
“Super Pup?” 
“I’ll help, buddy.” Hotch looks like he’s going to stand, then hesitates. “In a second. Don’t go where I can’t see you, Jackers.” 
Hotch is tired. He didn’t come home until very late, but he’d woken Aunt Jess anyway and, when Jack woke, there his dad was sleeping in the beanbag by his bed. He’s sore all over now and exhausted from a restless night. Jack feels sorry, as much as he can for being six nearly seven, but he also knows that his dad doesn’t mind the hurting. It was nice to wake up together after a few days apart. 
And now he’s brought him to the library, and after that they’ll go for groceries. Jack should be quick. If they get home before dinner time his dad will ask him if he wants to nap together, which is the best. They just lay there in the big bed with the fan on and snooze until it’s too late to cook, so his dad breaks out the takeout menus, and promises he won’t do it again with a quick hug from behind. 
As though it makes him a terrible parent for feeding his kid. Jack can’t know how guilty it makes Hotch feel to do it, and Hotch doesn’t seem to notice how much Jack loves these days where his dad is exhausted and totally his. 
Jack runs around looking for Super Pup. Hotch’s phone beeps in his pocket, and he fights to keep his eyes open.
A ways away, you browse the fiction section in a crouch, knees somehow totally under your skirt, flicking aside spines of skinny books for something you can read at lunch time. Something that doesn’t require much attention, and could be read in short intervals. You used to demand a half hour to yourself when you first started teaching, but that was before the lonely kids started cropping up. Kids with no friends, or sad smiles, who want company and quiet alike. 
You reach for a pink-spined Japanese translation as a little hand pats your elbow. You’re so used to kids you say, “What’s up?” before you remember you aren’t at work. 
You turn in your crouch to look behind you. “Oh, hi, Jack! What are you doing here?” 
“Me and dad are looking for books.” 
You smile at him genuinely, happy to see your favourite student, even if you’re terrified on the inside at the prospect of his father. He’s the most gentlemanly man you’ve ever met. He’s arduous in how respectful he is, he’s understanding, and he’s tall, dark, and handsome. It is a chilling collection of traits. You stumble whenever you have to talk to him. 
But Jack is easy. You and Jack talk every day. “What sorts of books? Just for fun?” 
“I want to read Super Pup.” 
The kids love Super Pup and his magic bark. You stand promptly, suddenly much taller than Jack as you brush down your skirt. “Wait,” you say. Mr. Hotchner gets called away for work all the time, but he wouldn’t leave Jack alone, would he? “Where’s your dad? You’re not by yourself, are you?” 
Jack laughs. “No! I’m looking for Super Pup! Dad’s tired.” 
You can’t decipher exactly what those two things have to do with each other, but you can guess how panicked his dad will be to find Jack so far from the kid’s section. Fiction is the other side of the library. “How did you end up over here?” You offer your hand. “Should we go back and find your dad?” 
“I saw your skirt, Miss L/N. I like the flowers.”
He takes your hand, clumsy to your gentleness. “Thanks, honey. Let’s go find dad before he calls his scary friends and has your name on the news.” 
You get to the kids section slowly. Endearingly so, but nerve-wracking, too, because Mr. Hotchner can be intimidating. Jack likes holding your hand, you think, clinging to your fingers as he guides you across the library, past the staircase down to the first floor, and back to the kids section. 
“Jack?” Mr. Hotchner asks loudly, turned away from you both near the graphic novel selection. “Jack.” 
“Mr. Hotchner,” you say. 
“Dad!” 
He spins on his heel. His shoulders relax noticeably, but the stress in his gaze remains. 
“Jack, I said stay where I can see you,” he says, not half as scolding as he could be as Jack lets go of your hand and runs to his legs, where he stops. “Please, buddy. You gotta listen to me.” 
Jack turns between you and his dad with a smile, “But look, it’s Miss L/N.” 
“I can see,” he says softly. 
Mr. Hotchner leans down, taking Jack up into his arms with impressive ease, and begins the walk to you where you’ve stayed. 
“I hope he didn’t interrupt you,” he says. 
“Please,” you say, “he’s my favourite. Just–” You wince. “Don’t tell anybody at school I said that, Jack. Please.” 
“I think we can keep this secret,” Mr. Hotchner says. 
“He was just telling me that you’re looking for Super Pup. If you don’t find it, we have copies at the school library. And we can always order you one.” 
Mr. Hotchner gives you a small, and what you know to be rare, smile. “I don’t think he even looked.” 
“I did look!” Jack disagrees, though his disagreement barely has any attitude to it, a credit to his upbringing. 
“You clearly weren’t looking in the right place.” 
“I was too. How would you know, you were sleeping!” 
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Mr. Hotchner says to you. 
You tuck your hands behind your back. “It’s okay, Mr. Hotchner, I believe you. In my classroom we like to say we’re resting our eyes.” 
“Aaron,” he says, as he says whenever you speak to each other, and as you always forget to call him. Not a demand but a suggestion you’d swear to be bordering affectionate. 
You’ve been Jack’s teacher for two months this year, and almost the entire year previously. In the summer when they leave, you’ll find out if you’re moving up a grade with him, but until then, you’ve made the most of such a nice kid, and you aren’t shy to tell that to Aaron. You don’t mind that Jack spends his lunch time with you. He embodies all of the reasons that pushed you to become a teacher in the first place. 
And his father is a good reason to stay. He’s one of the only nice (hot) dads. 
You do worry often that he can read your expression. His lips have quirked into a bemused smile, what’s so funny? He’s terrifying. 
“Aaron,” you rush to say, and fill the silence you’ve made, “It’s nice to see you.” 
“It’s nice to see you, too. You’ll see me on Monday, so you’ll be sick of me by Tuesday.” 
You rock ever so gently on your heels. “You aren’t working.” 
“It’s Jack’s birthday.” 
You nod, pleased. “I know! I know, we already talked about what cupcakes he wants, didn’t we? Everybody’s gonna have rainbow sprinkle, and for a treat we’re going to watch a movie before lunch.” 
“Do you do that for every kid?” 
“I do.” 
“How do you afford it?” He lowers his gaze. “I just mean, it’s expensive to do that for every birthday.” 
“Luckily for me and unluckily for the kids, quite a few of them have birthdays outside of term time. Thirty students is three trays of ten, and that doesn’t usually break the bank, even if things get tight. But… I don’t know, I guess I just have to make room when it does. It’s special to feel special, and,” —you smile, exuberant and a little shy at once, clutching your elbow in your hand— “Jack always makes everybody else feel special. ” 
The boy in question turns into his fathers chest, pleased beyond words. 
Aaron gives you a long, long look. “Thank you,” he says. 
“Oh, you’re welcome.” 
You say goodbye to Aaron and Jack and wish them both a good weekend, which you spend wondering what the pressure of Aaron’s hand would be like on your shoulder, and if you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking about it at all. He seems like he’d give a good hug. You catch yourself picturing him opening a door and ban yourself from thinking of him at all. 
Monday morning, you stand at the door ushering your students inside, and you can’t help beaming when Jack and Aaron arrive. 
“Aw, Jack, where’s your birthday badge?” you ask, fall air nipping your nose. 
“He was feeling too shy,” Aaron says. He’s in casual dress again. Some men should be banned from half-zips, it’s inhumane. 
“You were?” You bend just a bit, hand in your pocket. “Well, I thought you might be, so I brought my badge from home. It’s super shiny, bud. What do you think?” 
You show Jack the badge, It’s My Birthday in silver against a rainbow backdrop. 
Maybe it was silly to bring, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t want to wear one, and maybe he should. He deserves for all his friends to give him some attention, and to have them fight over who gets to sit with him at lunch. 
“We have something for you,” Jack says. 
You stand straight. “You do?” 
Aaron hadn’t been expecting to be the one to give it to you, that much is obvious. He hesitates for a second before he passes you a small brown box, the top of which is made up of four leaves folded into a dome. You have an inkling of what it might me. 
“Thank you… Can I open it now?” you ask. 
“I think you should wait for lunch,” Aaron says. 
You raise your eyebrows but abide by his suggestion, murmuring another thank you as Aaron bends to give Jack a hug. “Have a good day. I’ll be here to pick you up, I promise,” he says.
It’s a great day. The kids are excited for cupcakes and overjoyed to get them before lunch. Not a crumb goes uneaten, and as they all sing for Jack with his borrowed badge, he’s actually happy for the attention. He doesn’t eat with you at lunch, which is a great thing even if you love his company. 
Alone, you fold back the leaves of your mysterious box and smile like an idiot when you confirm what’s inside. A cupcake slightly more sophisticated than rainbow sprinkle spreads icing across the brown carrier, and a business card leans against the other side. 
The front of the card is as you’d expected it to be spelling out Aaron’s contact details from work, and you combust thinking he wants you to call him, but it’s the back that you’d been meant to see. You read it as you fold down the leaves of the cupcake carrier, 
Thirty students, three trays of ten. What does that leave for you? —Aaron. 
Flirt, you think firmly, happily. He’s such a flirt. 
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pumpkin-bats · 2 months
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One Piece Boys As Lovers - Headcanons
The poll has spoken! I kinda figured this was gonna be the result but I was curious anyway. So without further ado-
Law:
Works with you asleep in his lap.
Doesn't get jealous often, but it's obvious when he is.
Not big on PDA but loves subtly showing people that you two are together, and looks real smug about it the entire time.
Massages your hands when he's distracted or thinking about something and accidentally made it into a habit, so now he does it to bring him comfort.
Lots of late night cuddles. He's a big koala. The stickiest parasite, does not let go even when bribed.
Huffs at a lot of your most energy draining ideas, but always goes along with what you want or say regardless. Often has a fond smile as soon as you aren't looking.
Zoro:
A lot of nap time sessions where he's your pillow and blanket. But he'll wake up the second you ask him to.
Spars with you and tries to teach you to swordfight because he likes sharing his interests with you.
Does not make it obvious, but he worries about you a lot.
Doesn't like it when you're out of his sight for extremely long periods of time, it makes him antsy.
Holding hands almost all the time in public. Not as much in private, because the private time between the two of you is a different kind of safe intimacy.
Has a sixth sense for when you're upset and acts on it instantly.
Sanji:
Favorite foods, all the time, at all times. No food request is off the table, he'll make anything you crave when you crave it without any fuss. Sometimes he'll make it just because.
Really likes to dance with you, whether it's wildly spinning around the room or slow dancing under the moonlight.
The physical embodiment of 'just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door.'
He's very weak to cheek kisses. Melts. Like butter.
Rubs your shoulders when you're tired.
Matching couples outfits. His idea of matching with you is wearing a shirt or tie that matches the general color of your outfit.
Ace:
He occasionally takes you stargazing where you spend the entire time making up constellations and the stories behind them. Eight times out of ten you end up huddled together and asleep outside.
Cuddling gets rough in the summer because his temperature runs high, but it's non-negotiable during the colder months. Personal heater go brrrrr.
Holding hands while walking down the street, swinging your arms and laughing like love struck fools.
A lot of adventure themed dates. Amusement parks, hiking, canoeing, or even little walks through the park.
Needing to label your food in the fridge so he doesn't eat it all. He eats it anyway, but always apologizes and makes up for it.
Brags about you a lot to his friends.
Mihawk:
Candlelit dinner dates that become regular dinner nights because they happen so often.
Makes you breakfast every morning and knows how you take your coffee/tea like the back of his hand.
Pet names. It's always 'my dear' or 'darling' and never just your name.
Not the most physically affectionate but always takes care of you.
Occasionally he'll do something for you and you'll be like 'oh I love this' and then he'll proceed to respond with 'I know, you- [brings up extremely obscure habit/interest/trait/tic of yours]'.
Sleeps significantly better with you in his arms and the morning after a night without you he'll offhandedly mention how he slept well but not that well.
Buggy:
You do each other's nails and makeup. Sometimes when he's too tired, he'll ask you to do his makeup for him.
He adores it when you play with his hair. Whether that be styling it, washing it, or simply just running your fingers through it, he loves it all. Goes literally weak in the knees and has to sit down.
Bad jokes when drunk that are so bad the both of you spend an hour straight just laughing.
He gets very easily embarrassed whenever you do nice things for him or compliment him. His face gets redder than his nose- which you may or may not tell him.
A lot of singing together. All kinds of songs and tunes, at any time of the day. Also very loudly. Sometimes off key.
He'll try to be straight faced around you, but the second you say something or make physical contact he giggles like an idiot. He's very shy about physical affection, and acts nervous about it every time.
Crocodile:
The physical embodiment of 'they asked for no pickles.'
He really likes to keep an arm around you whenever he's next to you, and will occasionally tug you a bit closer.
Long, mellow conversations that turn into late night talks.
It's hard to tell when he's jealous because he tends to glare at anyone and everyone that gets a bit too close to you.
Buys things for you. Not to be nice, it's actually a genuine problem. He buys way too many things for you because he tends to get something if it reminds him of you, which happens often.
Does face masks with you on the weekends and you can occasionally convince him into doing a spa night with you
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