#shaking your hands. we are in this together

[luvyeni]

crazy questions ๑. ( 희승 - 제이크 )

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──── who would’ve thought your random questions would lead to you being fucked by your best friends ..

( 対 ) lee heeseung and sim jaeyun + fem. reader wc. 3k genre smut · contains! unprotected sex , a little mlm ( their tongues touch ) , oral mature content. / back to library

heeseung and jake. they were your best friends , your roommates, they were use to you saying odd shit ; so normally they turned a blind eye with just a head shake — ‘that’s just yn , she says weird shit all the time’ they’d say when someone would ask why they didn’t flinch when you said crazy obscured things.

but this time they couldn’t let it slide; especially when you said it so smoothly they both thought they were sharing some weird dream. “is it possible for two dudes to eat a girl's pussy at the same time?” you said with the blankest face ever. “what crazy choices of words to form a sentence.” jake said , his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “why are you asking this?” heeseung asked.

“well i was watching a video — it was porn.” you started. “and there were two guys and they were eating the girl out at the same time , but they were both in between her legs.” both boys were now turned to you , looking at you and then at each other. “what porn are you watching?” jake asked. “it just didn’t look comfortable , her legs were so spread out and the boys looked uncomfortable and would flinch every time their tongues touched.” you said. “like if you’re gonna eat out a girl together you can’t be afraid to do a little tongue touching , it’s not that much space.”

“i literally have no idea how to answer this question.” heeseung said; for the first time you’ve left them speechless with the shit you say — “obviously it’s possible seeing as you’ve seen a video.” jake said. “but comfortable? i’ve never eaten a girl out with another dude before.” he said. “but you do have a point you can’t be scared of tongue touching the other guy.” you shook your head in agreement , heeseung laughed at the both of you. “what is wrong with both of you.”

“would you do it seung?” you asked. “eat a girl out with another dude?” he let out a light huff like chuckle. “are you okay with a little dude on dude tongue touching?” you said in a teasing tone. “i would.” jake spoke up. “we know you would , you have a lot bisexual tendencies that we’ll address later down the line.” heeseung was staring you down now. “what?” you asked nonchalantly — like you didn’t just ask your best friends the most outlandish question. “it was just a question , i didn’t ask you to co-sign a loan.”

“i think he might be thinking about it.” jake said. “or maybe he’s done it before.” heeseung rolled his eyes. “heeseung.” you drew out his name. “have you done this before , who was it with? sunghoon? jay? oh my god! who?” you were genuinely intrigued now. “i haven’t done it like that with anyone,” he said. “did he just admit to us he’s had a threesome before?” you asked jake. “i think so , did you know about this?” jake shook his head no. “it wasn’t me , must’ve been sunghoon.”

“it was jay.” you both gasped. “you and jay had a threesome?” you basically shouted. “bro why didn’t you tell me.” jake said. “because it happened like a week ago and we were all drunk.” he said. “it just happened me and jay haven't even talked about it.” he said. “why is it awkward , did you two kiss and it made your dick twitch a bit?” a pillow was tossed at your head. “umph-” he picked it up ready to hit you again. “shut up.” you were doubled over in tears; holding your stomach laughing as he continuously hit you with the pillow. “okay , okay i’m done , i’m done.” you held your hand up. “stop whacking me with that damn pillow and get your heavy ass off me.”

you wiped the tears from your eyes. “i can’t believe you had a threesome before jake; if anything i thought you two would do that together.” you said coming down from your laughing session. “i always thought you two would be the ones to do that together.” you shrugged. “us?” jake said. “yeah , i mean you two always spend everything waking moment together so i assumed you two would definitely fuck the same girl.”

“you think about us fucking another girl together?” heeseung said; jake smirked. “i didn’t — is that why you looked that up; wanted to see if it was possible and if we could do it?” jake spoke up. “i don’t like how this turned to me.” you said feeling the shift in the air. “why are you so shy now? you were so bold telling us the porn you goon to.” “it was just a question.” you mumbled , heeseung chuckled. “you were curious; so it had to be a thought you’ve had before am i wrong.”

well he wasn't wrong; maybe the thought had crossed your mind a few too many times for your liking. the look on your face told them everything they needed to know. “ah not another girl.” jake said. “you.” your eyes widen. “no-no that’s not — we’ve been friends for years we know when you’re lying.” he said. “you don’t know anything.” you said trying not to sound like you been caught even though all three of you knew you had. “i thought about it.” heeseung said. “can’t think of a day i didn’t think about it for even a second.”

“what?” before you could even say something about it jake spoke up. “me either , i thought about it the moment you said something earlier.” the look of shock on your face made them laugh. “what , you walk around here shorts tiny as fuck and without a bra , saying sexual shit all the time like it’s normal.” he said. “i’m your best friend but like i’m also a man yn.”

“not to mention these walls are thin as fuck and your room is right next mines , and let’s just say that pillow you bite down on isn’t helping at all.” heeseung said, you gasped jake quickly followed up. “fuck the thin walls i can hear her down the hall , she’s fucking loud , is there ever a day you give yourself a break?”

“well you listen , you don’t have to.” you said turning to heeseung. “and i don’t say anything when you walk around here without underwear like a slut.” he giggled , it was the most attractive thing you’ve heard in a while. “you think i don’t see you looking , you’re not subtle at all , just how we both know you feel jake staring at your ass all the time.” clearly there was some kind of tension that had been looming over the apartment that finally boiled over. “and we never said we didn’t like hearing you , just said we hear you; every single night , and now we finally know what you’re in here watching and what you’re thinking about when you’re in here stuffing yourself with your fingers.”

you bit down on your bottom lip; your thighs pressed together tightly; once again heeseung calling your bluff. “you’re getting turned on?” jake catching on , his eyes trained on your thighs waiting for the slightest bit of movement. “are you?” you were ready for them to get out so you can get rid of this new ache in between your legs. “okay , time to get out.” you said. “why aren’t we having fun?” heeseung pouted. “or is it because you want turn on your porn and goon out?” it felt like they were teasing you now , you whined. “fuck you heard that?” jake said. “told you sounds even better up close , when it isn’t muffled by a useless fucking pillows.”

heeseung tapped your bare thigh; his eyes darker than they were before — full of lust and hunger. “you gonna be a good girl and open them for us or am i gonna have force them open?” he gripped them , this is where you could’ve told them no , and they’d listen you could tell their eyes were also looking for a sign of rejection. but you’d also be a idiot to turn them both down; which is why you don’t say anything, slowly opening your legs. “you said you want to see if it’s possible?” his eyes flickering to jake who was looking at the both of you , mouth dry as he watched. “let’s see.”

jake got the hint; heeseung pulled you down so you were laying on the bed , pushing your legs far apart so they both could sit comfortably in between your legs; you let out a moan , then stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, you were surprised on how flexible you were. “moaning already and we didn’t even do anything yet.” jake who’s eyes hadn’t left your clothes lower region , brought his fingers to your clothed cunt , pressing down. “let me take these off , let’s see that pretty pussy.” you nodded and he quickly grabbed the waistband, pulling them down. “look at that.” heeseung kissed the inside of your thighs. “soaked right through these panties.” pulling them down your leg , your lower half now bare to them both.

“look at that; she’s fucking dripping.” heeseung smirk. “how long have you been thinking about this?” you whimpered , the light feeling of their breath on your cunt. “fuck just touch me.” you huffed frustrated. “oh someone is fucking needy , not even a please.” jake chuckled. “real ungrateful, here we are trying to worship your pussy and this is how you treat us.” heeseung pouted. “i’m upset princess , i don’t think we should give her anything jake.” “you’re right; she doesn’t deserve it.”

“n-no please touch me.” you shifted your body a bit , heeseung holding you down. “say it again.” jake smirked , you would’ve slapped him if you weren’t in this predicament. “pl-please touch me.” you repeated. “please.” heeseung hummed in satisfaction. “i think that’s enough , i feel like she deserves a reward right?” jake nodded. “i think we should test her theory out yeah?” heeseung agreed. “show her that it’s possible right?”

you felt the feeling of both their tongues on you, gasping out. “oh fuck.” you moaned; head falling back against the pillows. “oh my god.” you’ve been eaten out before , but this new feeling of both of them on you was addicting; eye rolling in fact , you had no clue what to do with your hands , but they eventually found themselves tangled in both of their hair yank at both their roots as they licked at your folds.

jake was definitely enjoying himself; just as he thought he would, jake never doubted his attraction to you , he was attracted to you the day you moved in; heeseung as well. they often talked about it together , the things they’d do to you, hearing you moaning and whimpering at night when you touched yourself , of course they've touched themselves to you , both thinking about what it would be like to have you , touch you , taste you — to fuck you. hearing you ask that question just set them both off , they had to have you.

they both were so deep into it , they didn’t even flinch like the guys did in the movies when their tongues touched; if anything it made it hotter to them , hearing your moans up close , not being blocked from the walls , tugging at their hair as you shout out a mixture of both their names and curse words. “fuck , fuck i’m about to cum.”

you felt the stretch of a finger entering your cunt. “so fucking tight , how can you take a cock if you’re struggling to take a finger?” jake cursed. “she’ll take what we give her.” heeseungs burned holes into your skin with his stare , wait for jake to add another finger pressing on your clit. “right.” you nodded. “yes yes , fuck!” you shouted. “you gonna cum yeah?” you nodded. “gonna make a mess.” jake switching between fingering you and licking your folds , heeseung staying up to rubbed your clit , watching your every movements. “i wanna see you cum.” he said biting his lip. “go a head, cum.”

a loud moan ripped from your throat as you came , your legs unable to close , which encouraged them to keep going. “ca-can’t , too mu-much.” heeseung pulled his hand from your clit , slapping in between your tighs , jake had to be pulled away. “calm down , gotta give our girl a break here.” jake’s lips were glossy , licking them. “sorry , she just tastes too good.”

“did you like that?” heeseung asked , you nodded. “it-it felt good , but my legs are a little sore.” you giggled , heeseung let your legs down , jake moving out the way. “it’s achievable for sure , but fuck after a while i thought i was gonna lose feeling in my legs.” you could feel heeseungs hard on pressed against your thigh. “seems like i wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it.” you grabbed his cock , he groaned. “was it me or was it jake.” he scoffed , grabbing both of your wrists. “you’re such a fucking brat.” he turned to jake. “lets do something about that yeah.?”

your shirt was quick to go along with their clothes , heeseung pushed your legs open once more , jake on the side of you. “get a look at these.” the aussie boy grabbed your boob. “been waiting to see these for months now , real nice.” he gave your bust a squeeze, you didn’t have a chance to even react to that because heeseung was pushing himself past your folds. “fu-fuck you’re so tight.” he groaned. “such a tiny pussy -fuck- you’re choking my cock.” cursing as he stretched you out. “heeseung fuck!”

as quick as he entered you , he was moving; his hips slapping against yours. “come here.” jake guided your hand to his cock. “lets put that pretty mouth to use.” helping you guide your mouth down on to his cock. “oh fuck.” he sighed , throwing his head back. “such a good cock sucker.” he held the back of your head , using your mouth to get off. “god damn , such a good cock sucker.” he pushed your head down , gagging on his cock.

it was pure pleasure that you were feeling; heeseung pushed your legs to your chest as he pounded into you. “oh fuck such a good cocksleeve huh , letting us use you like this - fuck - is this what you think about when you’re in here alone?” he grunted. “playing with your pretty pussy while thinking about your best friend use you like this.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “look , we’ve fucked her dumb.” jake still using your mouth. “sh-shit , should’ve used this mouth long ago.”

“wait until you feel her pussy , fuck i’m in heaven.” you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you; unable to warn them , your legs shaking as you came— no you squirted , all over heeseungs lower half. “of fuck , she squirted.” he pulled out , stroking his cock. “fu-fuck!” he came directly after ; painting your stomach white. “shit that was too fucking hot.” he huffed.

jake came not soon after; pushing your head down. “gonna let me cum in your mouth? fill your tiny throat with my seed?” you nodded. “good girl -fuck- then take it all the way.” he held your head down, groaning. “ah fuck.” his cock twitching as he came. “sh-shit.” he pulled out , tapping his wet cock on your cheek. “fuck , i’m still fucking hard.”

it didn’t stop there either , the three of you went at it for what felt like hours. sometimes one of them would take a break and you and the other would go at it , it was like the three of you were trying to drain each other of everything you had — and you did , the known but unknown tension in the apartment fueling the three of you until it didn’t any more and the three of you passed out right then and there , covered in sweat; the room smelling of sex.

you woke up last , the sheets were changed; your body covered in a shirt that wasn’t yours and a pair of panties. you slowly got up, the consequences of having your legs open for that long definitely caught up with you in your sleep , trudging down the hallway to the living room. “oh she’s risen.” jake said with a smile. “you’ve been out for 4 hours , i was certain you were gonna sleep the night , really did a number on you.” heeseung smirked to himself. “oh haha , laugh it up , sorry i don’t have the fucking stamina of a high rhino like you two.”

“us two?” heeseung said. “baby you’re the one with the never ending stamina.” he said as you sat down. “we were trying to keep up with you.” jake nodded in agreement. “at one point i was about to tap out completely.” your face was hot. “you’re either really freaked out or you really wanted to fuck us” you scoffed. “you definitely have many talents.” heeseung said. “you were real eager to show us them too.”

“says the only who was overly excited to play tongue twister with his best friend in between my legs.” you bit back. “why am i in it?” jake said. “you and that mouth , gonna get you in trouble.” he said. “really?” jake stood up from the table. “count me out this time , i have nothing left in me.” he left the both of you at he table. “i’d rather tap out now , than embarrass myself by shooting blanks later , you two have fun.”

heeseung burning holes into your skin once again. “what are you looking at?” he didn’t say anything, just got down on his knees under the table opening your legs. “st-stop im sensitive.” you whimpered. “good.” he said.

“i want you in tears by time im done this time.”

©️LUVYENI

[fckmebarnes]

bucky finding out about squirting nd now ever time u guys have sex he tries to make you squirt every single time …

oh yeah…

“c’mon baby. give me one, i know you wanna.” as he’s slowly fucking his cock into your cunt at an agonizing pace but he has his vibranium thumb pressed firmly against your clit — vibrating

your legs are shaking as your back is arching and you’re trying your best to keep it together

“princess, please. cum on daddy’s dick.” you grit your teeth as you tip your head back when his cock hits your sweet spot, the added vibrations of his finger rippling through your body

“there we go, fuck…didn’t know you could fuckin’ squirt baby.” you’ve soaked his whole lower half and cock, your cheeks heating up

he gazed towards you grows feral, once you come down from your high. he takes your hands in one of his, pressing it above your head as he fucks into you faster. “you’re gonna give me another one, got it?”

[dior-luxury]

i dont know if your requests are open but if they are can you pretty please make a part 2 of the how they'd propose to you with other characters like Sebek and Ruggie and anyone else you would like? (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

How'd They Propose To You

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] cater . ruggie . floyd . kailm . vil . rook . idia . lilia . sebek

- [𝐩:𝐬] nothing . just the boys being romantic

Note: This series like my 'Kiss And Make-out' series was heavily request so... Part two, here we go!! Also everyone, get your tissues out cause this is going to be an emotional one.. 😭

Cater Diamond

Cater always made everything look effortless. From his impeccably filtered Magicam photos to his playful, lighthearted persona, he was the guy who breezed through life like a summer wind — colorful, vibrant, and hard to pin down. But the moment he realized he wanted to spend his life with you, the thought terrified him. Not because he didn’t want it — but because he did.

You’d been together for a while, enough to see past his curated charm and into the subtle sadness he kept hidden behind his eyes. You saw the moments when his smile faltered just a second too soon, when he stared at old class photos for a beat too long, when he tried too hard to make everyone like him. And despite it all, or maybe because of it, you stayed. You loved him, not the persona.

He wanted to return that love with everything he had.

So he planned it down to the second. Not flashy, not performative, but genuine. A proposal just for you two — no hashtags, no likes, no audience.

You were led on a surprise “casual date” through campus, each place tied to a memory: the greenhouse where you first studied together, the corner of the courtyard where you surprised him with lunch one day, the little music room where you once caught him playing guitar alone. At each spot, he left a small printed Polaroid of the memory, with scribbled notes like “Can you believe you caught me blushing here?” or “Still the best sandwich I’ve ever had, btw.”

Finally, you arrived at the abandoned tower that overlooked the rose gardens. It was dusk — golden hour. A string of soft lights framed the edge of the balcony, and a blanket lay spread out with two drinks, his favorite strawberry soda, and your favorite too.

Cater stood there, not in any extravagant outfit, but in his everyday clothes, a little flushed, a little nervous. His Magicam was nowhere in sight.

“I know I’m not always easy to read,” he began, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “I’m a master of filters. And honestly? I’ve spent most of my life trying to be someone that other people like. But with you… I don’t have to be anyone else. You make me feel like being just ‘Cater’ is enough.”

He knelt, pulling out a small velvet box that he almost dropped because his hands were shaking.

“So… if you’ll have me, for all the mess, the moods, and the million selfies — will you marry me? And keep reminding me that being myself is okay?”

His voice cracked, and you could tell it wasn’t a line rehearsed for flair. It was Cater Diamond, bare and honest.

You said yes, of course.

And that night, he took one photo — just one — of the two of you silhouetted against the golden light, laughing through your tears.

No filters. No edits.

Just love.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie Bucchi never thought he’d be the type to propose. Where he came from, marriage was practical, not romantic. You partnered up, you made it work, and you did your best to survive. Love? That was a luxury. He grew up knowing how to scrape by, how to hustle, how to keep smiling when your stomach was empty.

But then he met you — and everything shifted.

You saw past his tricks and street-smart charm, past the sly grin and the mischievous glint in his eyes. You saw someone capable. Someone worth loving, not just useful. And that meant more to him than he ever let on.

He saved for months. Scrimped every madol he could without you noticing. Side jobs, extra errands, even turning down a few schemes with Leona when they felt too risky. He wanted this to be his, something he earned with his own effort. Not flashy — but real.

One day, he invited you to his hometown. He played it off as casual — “Hey, wanna see where the magic began?” — but you could tell he was more nervous than usual. His tail twitched a little more. His jokes came faster. He wouldn’t meet your eyes for too long.

You arrived in the Slums of the Sunset Savanna, where he grew up. It was loud, dusty, and full of kids shouting and running barefoot in the alleys. But Ruggie looked… peaceful. At home. He gave you a tour like it was the royal palace — proudly showing you the bakery where he got day-old bread, the crumbling wall he used to climb for fruit, the school where he taught himself to read better.

That evening, he brought you to a quiet hill just outside the neighborhood. It overlooked the city, bathed in orange from the setting sun.

There was a picnic spread, nothing fancy — some homemade snacks, cold drinks, and a little bread pudding he tried (and failed) to make look neat. The bread was a little burnt. He kept muttering that it wasn't perfect.

And then, out of nowhere, he said:

“Y’know… I used to think I’d just grow up, keep scrappin’ my way through life, maybe end up old and alone with a bunch of stolen pies under my belt.”

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“But then you came along and messed it all up — in the best way.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a tiny, slightly lopsided ring box. Inside was a simple band with a small, pale gem. Not expensive. Not glittery.

But made with his whole heart.

“I don’t got a palace. I don’t got riches or magic castles or nothin’. But I got you, and I wanna spend every day makin’ you smile. So… what do you say? Wanna keep causing trouble together… forever?”

His ears were flat against his head, and his tail was still as stone.

When you said yes, he lit up like the stars were inside him.

And he never stopped smiling after that.

Floyd Leech

Loving Floyd was like dancing with a storm: unpredictable, wild, sometimes overwhelming — but breathtakingly beautiful. He could be sweet one second, biting the next, and then melting into your arms like seafoam. And through it all, there was something real behind his mercurial moods — a strange, raw devotion that ran deeper than the ocean.

So when Floyd started acting… weirdly consistent, you knew something was up.

No wild mood swings. No threats to squeeze someone into a pretzel. Just this quiet intensity in the way he looked at you, like he was memorizing your every blink.

He’d drag you along for “dates” that were more like mini adventures: exploring underwater caves off the Coral Sea coast, racing each other through twisted kelp forests, picnicking on giant sea turtles (you hoped it was legal). He’d laugh, splash you, nibble your ears when you weren’t looking — but then fall completely silent when you watched the sunset over the waves.

That silence carried something unspoken. Something serious.

Then one day, he brought you to the edge of the Mostro Lounge after hours. No lights. No music. Just the dark water shimmering under moonlight. Jade had subtly cleared the area, probably under Floyd’s “friendly encouragement.”

Floyd stood by the pool, barefoot, wearing loose, sea-salt-dried clothes. He looked wild and untamed, like he’d just swum from the abyss.

“Ne~ shrimpy,” he started, voice low and lilting. “You really stuck around this long, huh?”

He didn’t look at you at first. He stared at the water, watching it ripple like something might rise from it.

“Most people get scared. They say I’m too much—too loud, too weird, too hard to keep up with. Even Jade gets tired of me sometimes, y'know?”

He turned, and for once, his eyes weren’t playful. They were clear — crystalline, serious.

“But you… You let me be me. Even when I’m a pain in the tailfin.”

He stepped forward and pressed a tiny shell into your hand. At first glance, it looked ordinary — until it opened with a soft click, revealing a shimmering, black pearl nestled in its center like a star trapped in the deep.

His hand slipped into yours, fingers squeezing tight.

“So, what d’ya say? Wanna be my forever shrimpy? I can’t promise I won’t get bored sometimes or drag you into weird stuff… but I can promise I’ll never leave. ‘Cause when I say you’re mine, I mean it.”

He grinned then — sharp teeth and all — but there was a rare softness to it.

When you said yes, he scooped you up, twirled you into the air, and shouted your name into the sea breeze like it belonged to him now.

Because, well… it did.

Kalim Al-Asim

His love was the kind of love that sparkled — joyful, loud, radiant. He loved with everything. And when he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, there was no hesitation. No fear. Just overflowing excitement and the desire to make it perfect.

So naturally… the entire city had to know.

You started noticing little hints. He’d smile at you longer than usual. Ask strange questions like “What’s your favorite kind of flower, just hypothetically?” or “Do you like fireworks or doves better? No reason!”

But the day of the proposal? He kept it hidden perfectly.

You were invited to a “casual dinner” at the Al-Asim family estate — nothing fancy, he swore! When you arrived, the garden was transformed into something out of a dream: floating lanterns bobbed gently in the air, casting a golden glow; fragrant jasmine vines curled around the trellises; rose petals lined the walkways in careful spirals.

And in the center of it all stood Kalim, wearing a white and gold sherwani embroidered with intricate sun motifs — custom-made, obviously.

He took your hand and pulled you close, his smile so big it looked like it hurt.

“Surprise!! Okay okay, I know I said this wasn’t a big deal, but I might’ve lied a little,” he admitted, practically vibrating with excitement. “I wanted this to be special. Because you are.”

He led you through the garden, pointing out little scenes — memories you’d shared together recreated in glowing, magical dioramas. The first time he gave you a ride on his flying carpet. The time you accidentally got stuck in the rain together and danced anyway. Even the first time he tripped and landed face-first in a pile of fruit during a festival. Each one floated in a soft golden shimmer like preserved dreams.

Finally, at the very end of the path, the lights dimmed. Music began — a quiet, melodic tune played by a live ensemble hidden behind silk screens.

Kalim dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring so stunning it looked like it belonged in a treasure vault: warm rose gold shaped like the sun, with a diamond center surrounded by sunstone and opal, glowing faintly with enchantment.

His voice trembled slightly, but his eyes never left yours.

“I know I’m… a lot. Loud, excitable, maybe too much sometimes. But my heart? It’s yours. Every day. Every moment. I want to fill your life with so much joy you forget what sadness feels like. Will you… will you marry me?”

You could barely answer before fireworks burst overhead in a dazzling cascade of color — forming your name, a heart, and then the words “Will You Marry Me?” again for good measure.

He laughed, teary-eyed, pulling you into a spinning hug the moment you said yes, nearly tripping over a pile of lanterns.

And he swore — over spiced sweets and glowing stars — that loving you would always be the most joyful celebration of his life.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil Schoenheit had always been perfection incarnate.

He chose his words carefully, curated his life down to the last detail, and ruled over every room he entered with grace and quiet authority. But love? Love was unpredictable. Messy. Vulnerable.

And yet… with you, he chose it anyway.

For months, he kept the idea of proposing buried beneath a polished exterior. Not because he doubted your love — no, never that — but because he feared imperfection. What if the moment wasn’t enough? What if his words failed him? What if he wasn’t enough?

But one morning, as you were wrapped in a robe, sipping tea while lazily flipping through one of his scripts, looking utterly unbothered by the world — his world — he knew. No stage could rival this.

Still… he had to make it perfect.

The proposal wasn’t sudden. It unfolded like a symphony — days of subtle preparation, each moment building toward the crescendo. First, a handwritten invitation slipped under your door, sealed with gold wax in his personal crest. It read:

“You are cordially invited to an evening of celebration — for a love that deserves the finest stage. Wear what makes you feel radiant. The rest… is mine to handle.”

You arrived at a private rooftop garden in the heart of Maquillaville— Vil’s favorite filming location. Every inch of it had been transformed: strings of enchanted lights that pulsed like heartbeats, violet roses laced with flecks of gold, a crystal runway leading to a single, candlelit platform under the stars.

Vil stood at the end of it, not in a costume, not in a role — just himself. Beautiful, yes, but bare. No stage makeup. No lenses. Just Vil, with his natural elegance and a look in his eyes like he was seeing you and only you.

As you approached, music swelled from invisible instruments — soft piano and violins, as if the stars themselves were holding their breath.

Vil took your hands, his thumb stroking your wrist gently.

“I have played many roles,” he said quietly. “A prince. A villain. A monarch. But none… none compare to the part I’ve played in your life — myself. No masks. No script. You have loved me.”

He lowered himself to one knee, not out of tradition, but reverence. The ring was an opalescent band shaped like a flower in full bloom — not ostentatious, but hauntingly beautiful. Regal. Just like him.

“And I want to spend the rest of my days proving that I am more than a face on a screen. That I am yours — wholly, imperfectly, and honestly. Will you marry me, my dearest?”

Your yes was the kind of answer that echoed through your soul. And when you kissed — fireworks didn’t go off.

But you could’ve sworn the stars shifted.

Rook Hunt

To love Rook Hunt was to walk the edge of obsession — not in a dangerous way, but in a way that made you feel seen. Utterly seen. No piece of you, no habit or flaw, escaped his gaze. And he loved every detail with fervor and poetry.

So, when Rook decided to propose, it wasn’t a question of if or even how. It was a question of when the moment would feel like destiny.

And he waited for it with the patience of a hunter watching from the trees — breathless, quiet, focused.

It came during an autumn evening. The forest outside campus was bathed in gold and amber light, the air crisp and still. He asked you to take a walk, his tone casual, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes. The kind that made your heart stir.

He led you into the woods, deeper than usual, through a path dappled with falling leaves and faint trails of candlelight — candles placed just out of reach, like fireflies guiding you toward something sacred.

Eventually, you came upon a small, open glade. In its center stood a circle of white lilies and dried pampas grass, arranged with almost ceremonial care. Strings of paper birds fluttered from the trees — cranes, owls, hawks — each meticulously folded and each with a word written inside: Admiration. Fascination. Devotion. Enchantment.

You turned to Rook, who now stood behind you with that soft, unreadable smile.

“Mon trésor,” he breathed, voice velvet-smooth. “You are my greatest muse. The most magnificent mystery I’ve ever encountered. I have followed your footsteps, your laughter, your sorrow — and I find myself always… captivated.”

He circled around you like a dancer, his hand brushing your cheek, then resting over your heart.

“To hunt is not merely to chase — it is to understand. To behold. And I understand now that no beauty compares to yours. No thrill equals the way my heart stirs when you smile.”

Then, with the flourish of a magician revealing his final act, he drew from his coat a black-velvet box — aged and worn, like an heirloom passed through generations. He knelt, the golden leaves falling around him like confetti from the sky.

Inside, the ring was unlike anything you’d seen: a twisting band of silver and moss-green enamel, crowned with a delicate white diamond shaped like a feather — symbolizing the pursuit, the admiration, and finally, the surrender.

“Would you, my radiant one, do me the indescribable honor… of being mine, forever? Not as prey. Not as an object. But as the one I choose to walk beside, for all my days?”

When you said yes, Rook exhaled — deeply, reverently — and kissed your hand as if pledging allegiance to a monarch.

Idia Shroud

Proposal? Marriage? Social interaction? That was high-tier anxiety content for him. Even the thought of confessing to you, back when it all started, had nearly sent him into a shutdown spiral.

But now, here you were — his person. The one who understood his silences, who gamed beside him through 72-hour dungeon crawls, who sat beside him in eerie, comforting stillness while the blue glow of his hair flickered in thought. Loving you felt like logging into a private server only the two of you could access — quiet, secure, and safe.

And Idia, for all his dramatics and gloom-posting, loved you with an intensity that didn’t need fanfare. Just… data. And intention.

So, when he decided to propose, he made it a quest.

Literally.

You received a handmade invitation on your phone one morning: "Player 2, your presence is requested for a legendary raid. Final boss: Emotional Vulnerability. Rewards: Eternal Love + Rare Ring Drop. Do you accept?"

He built the whole thing himself: a pixel-art RPG styled just like your favorite fantasy games. The title? “Shroud.exe: A Love Story.”

As you played through it, you encountered your story together — from your first awkward hangouts in the Ignihyde dorm, to the moment you held his hand during a panic attack, to every late-night cuddle session where his hair dimmed peacefully beside you. Every NPC was a digital recreation of your favorite characters (Ortho, obviously, had an adorable role as the overly enthusiastic love-coach sidekick).

Each level was built with custom dialogue, full of Idia’s signature wit and fourth-wall breaking commentary:

“This is the part where MC doesn’t leave me despite my trash social skills. Truly S-tier behavior.”

“Warning: Final boss approaching. His defense stats are ridiculous but he’s got a glass heart. Weak to unconditional love.”

Finally, at the end of the game, the final cutscene began. And instead of sprites on screen, the video feed switched to live camera.

There he was.

Idia. Sitting in his room. Nervously fiddling with something in his hands — a small velvet box. His flame-hair flickered erratically, and he was in a carefully chosen outfit you’d never seen him wear before. Formal, but still unmistakably him.

He looked directly at the camera — right at you.

“I, uh… I figured I should do this in a way that makes sense for me. For us. Not in some overhyped, real-world, normie way with candles and violins and… people.” He cringed just saying that last part.

“But I wanted it to be real. So… here I am.”

He opened the box with trembling fingers. Inside was a ring shaped like a circuit loop, inlaid with glowing lapis and delicate code etchings — the ones you both designed together for fun once. The pattern pulsed faintly with light.

“I’m not good at words IRL, but I can say this: You’re my favorite co-op partner. You made all my side quests feel like main storyline material. So, will you… like, marry me? And maybe keep patching me for the rest of our lives?”

You didn’t even need the dialogue box to appear.

You just whispered "Yes" to the screen — and moments later, Ortho popped into the game world cheering with pixel fireworks in the background.

You looked up — and there Idia was, standing awkwardly in your doorway, holding the ring in real-time. Blushing furiously. Looking like he’d risked everything.

And when you kissed him — he glitched. Heart racing. Code crashing.

And he didn’t want to reboot. Ever.

Lilia Vanrouge

He had watched centuries pass like seasons. He’d lived through empires and starlight, laughter and war. He’d known many things — joy, grief, loyalty, loss — but love? True, soul-deep love? That was rare. Precious.

You, however, had changed that.

He never planned to fall for you. It simply happened. Like a song that begins as a hum and ends in a chorus that takes your breath away. With every shared moment — your laugh, your clever comebacks, your kindness — you pulled him out of memory and rooted him firmly in the now.

And so, one day, when the time felt quiet and right — he began to prepare.

The proposal wasn’t flashy. It was intimate. Lilia’s style had always been part mischief, part myth, part poetry. And so, he invited you to a place he hadn’t shown anyone in centuries.

A clearing deep within Briar Valley’s forest — hidden beneath vines and weeping trees, where the moonlight filtered through like silver lace. Fireflies lit the air in lazy constellations. In the center stood an old, stone ruin covered in moss — a place once sacred to the fae.

Lilia held your hand and stepped into the clearing with you, a small smile on his lips.

“Do you know what this place was?” he asked, voice soft like dusk. “It was a fae courting ground. We used to come here when we were ready to say, ‘This is it. This is the one I’ll write songs about.’”

You blinked at him — heart stuttering.

He stepped back from you, then lifted his hand. Magic shimmered like crushed moonlight around his fingers. With one slow motion, the ruins bloomed to life — glowing vines wrapping around pillars, flowers that hadn't blossomed in centuries opening in a swirl of glowing petals. The whole grove sighed, as if exhaling from a deep sleep.

“I’ve done many things,” Lilia said, stepping closer again, eyes shining. “I’ve lived through battles and lullabies. But I’ve never done this. Never wanted to. Not until you.”

He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a delicate silver ring carved in the shape of intertwined bat wings and thorns, centered with a faintly glowing green stone that looked like a captured firefly.

Kneeling — he looked up at you, unguarded and eternal.

“You have made my immortality feel like a blessing again. Would you walk with me through what years I have left, and let me love you through each one? Will you marry me?”

The forest held its breath with you.

When you said yes, his smile was the softest thing you’d ever seen. He pulled you close — kissed you slowly — and whispered, “Then we’ll write a love story even time won’t forget.”

Sebek Zigvolt

For a long time, Sebek Zigvolt didn’t understand love. Not in the way he understood duty, or training, or the fierce loyalty he bore for Lord Malleus. Love was… unpredictable. Emotional. Disruptive.

But when he began to feel it — first in small ways, like watching you speak with others and getting irrationally flustered, or the way your touch lingered in his mind for days — he was angry at it. Frustrated.

And yet, you stayed. Through his yelling, his dramatics, his constant declarations of greatness on behalf of Malleus. You never teased him. You understood him.

One evening, after an exhausting mission outside Briar Valley, you found him standing guard alone under a stormy sky — soaked, grim, but stubborn as ever. You put your cloak around his shoulders and stood beside him in the rain.

He never forgot that moment.

It was when he realized: You are who I want to stand beside forever.

Sebek’s proposal took months of planning. Everything had to be worthy — of you, of his feelings, and of the future he wanted to protect. He asked Lilia for advice (and immediately regretted it after hearing “fake dragon attack for dramatic flair” — no thank you), trained twice as hard every morning, and spent evenings carving something in secret.

When the day came, he invited you to the castle gardens of Diasomnia at sunrise. The sky was still dark and quiet, a soft mist curling between hedges and dragon statues.

Sebek stood waiting at the center, in formal attire — the ceremonial armor of the Draconia Guard, silver and forest green, etched with runes that glowed faintly with magic. He turned when you arrived, eyes wide and serious, breath fogging in the cold air.

“I… I wanted to say this in the place where my heart was forged — under these towers, in these shadows, where I learned what it meant to serve.”

He stepped forward, taking your hands in his own — warm despite the chill.

“But then I met you. And I learned something greater than duty. I learned love. Fierce. Relentless. Protective. The kind I would fight for. Die for. Live for.”

From his belt, he drew a small box. Inside it was a ring made from polished emerald steel — hand-forged, slightly rough around the edges, but unmistakably beautiful. It bore his family crest inside and tiny runes around the band for strength, loyalty, and passion.

“I will not promise perfection. I am loud. I am difficult. But I swear to be yours with every heartbeat I have. To protect, to cherish, and to learn. Always.”

He dropped to one knee — knight-like, formal, trembling — and looked up at you as though you were the most sacred being in the world.

“Would you do me the extraordinary honor… of becoming my partner? My future? My heart?”

Your “yes” rang through the mist like sunlight.

When he stood, his composure nearly broke — eyes damp, mouth trembling — and when he kissed you, it was with the passion of someone who had finally learned what it meant to love freely.

And though he never said it aloud again in front of others — in private, every night after, he whispered: “Thank you for choosing me.”

[stillswoon]

see you again | nanami kento

tw: breakup, angst!

“i don’t think we would be a good fit.” those words landed heavy, sinking straight to your stomach. it took everything in you not to drop your drink, but somehow, the burn on your lap wouldn’t matter anymore.

lately, nanami had been distant, cold, making excuses to spend less time with you, claiming he was busy. but you’d spot him out at a ramen shop, a cafe, even the arcade with his friends. yet somehow, he couldn’t find time for you?

you swallowed hard, setting the warm cup down, trying to keep your face neutral, but it betrayed you. “okay…” you murmured, your voice shaking. “why?”

he stared at his cup, his calm composure unwavering, but you couldn’t read him. “we come from different worlds. i don’t want to put your life at risk,” he muttered.

a silence stretched between you till you broke it.

“that’s not really fair of you, you know.” your voice trembled, barely audible, like it was made of fragile glass. it was so soft that it pulled his eyes up to meet yours, a frown marking his face.

“i know… i’m sorry.” his fist clenched tight in his lap, digging into his palms.

“no, you’re not.” you scoffed, eyes stinging. “and the promises you made.. the ones where we’d graduate together, move away, live a long life?” tears slipped down your cheek. “you made empty promises this whole time—”

“—i’ll come find you in the future. just not now, not for either of us.” he cut you off, his voice low, almost apologetic. it was clear he expected this to go differently, maybe even worse. he wanted you to yell at him, to make this easier somehow. but you were cold and that hurt even more somehow.

“save those stupid promises for someone else.” you muttered, pulling a few bills from your wallet and leaving them on the table. grabbing your now-cold drink, you turned your back. “goodbye, nanami.” and just like that, you were gone, like you’d never been there.

five years later, nanami spotted you again, this time, in the rain. you were impossible to miss, an aura around you that made you stand out in the crowd.

he hesitated, watching you as you smiled, radiating something he hadn’t seen in so long.

before he could move, a man approached you, and the smile you gave him, a smile so filled with love and joy.. was the same one nanami once shared with you.

“cho… you’ll get sick,” you said, tucking him under your umbrella. he smiled back, pecking your temple before handing you your favorite warm drink. nanami froze. that was the drink he used to get you.

you murmured a thank you, and he nodded, glancing at your cold hands. then, without thinking, it slipped from him, natural and effortless:

“didn’t want my wife to catch a cold.”

oh.

the word hit nanami like a punch to the gut. his heart squeezed painfully, and his grip on his umbrella tightened. he couldn’t look away.

he was stunned. you were married?

“…you get cold too easily,” choso said, gently patting your shoulder, his ears turning red as you smiled softly at him, the same smile that made nanami’s heart stop. your soft, familiar laugh followed. one nanami would never forget.

he stepped back, adjusting his glasses, unable to take it in. regret hit him hard, the weight of what he had lost, of the mistakes he had made.

and in that moment, he realized…

he wished he’d never let you go.

this is so shit but it needed to get out of my drafts </3

[oreo-creampies]

“𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠!”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! overstimulation, fingering, oral, squirting, hints of mind break, ex-husband!gojo, pussy-drunk!gojo, cock-drunk!reader, pierced!gojo has his tongue and cock pierced, needy gojo wants to get back to together, mama used one, heavy praise/very light mocking degradation/teasing/confessions, slapping your cunt a few times, light pain kink, scratching your thigh, pinning you down, light size kink, pinning your hands above your head, kissing

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! ❛this is a one time thing.❜ w ex!gojou

Your thighs are tremble, toes curling, slick drips from your squelching cunt. Twisting your hips away from Satoru’s persistent tounge and fingers. He tightens his grasp on your thighs, pulling you back into place, keeping you still.

Grinding your sensitive clit on his soft tongue when he growls. The pleasure of the vibrations and the warm metal bar makes it impossible to think straight.

Lifting your head and biting your lip, Satoru is rutting his hips into your blanket. His pre-cum no doubt smearing on it as the soft sheet rubs his cock.

“Fuckmealreadynnn!” Flopping back onto the bed, propping a leg over Satoru’s broad shoulder, digging your heel in. He flicks his tongue and pumps his fingers faster, the pleasure is intoxicating.

You’re so close, whimpering “I should’ve left when I saw you.” Satoru moans in delight, mocking you, stroking your g-spot making your sloppy cunt squirt. He glides his fingers out, dipping his head down and squeezing your hip tighter.

You’re gushing thick warm cum into his mouth, all over his pretty face. Your body shaking, eyes rolling back, jaw dropping, you can't think, there is only intense pleasure.

He nudges your quivering hole, gliding his tongue in, stroking your clit. Loudly moaning when your sensitive cunt clenches his soft tongue.

Stroking your clit faster, spreading his large hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. You’re a mindless, trembling and moaning mess.

He smears your slick on his cock. “I couldn’t stop, I miss how she tastes n’ squirts for me.” He roughly smacks your cunt. “I miss the wet sound she makes when I smack her, along with how you cry about it.” He hits your cunt harder, smirking when you cry his name.

He groans “Now that is something I've been dreaming about. How about you cry my name like that with my cock deep in ya?” Leaning over you he grabs your headboard and lines his cock up. Swiping himself between your lip, gliding his cock head over your clit.

Satoru pushes his cock up with a slow sensual roll of his hips. Dragging his cock down, you shiver when the soft ridge of his cock rubs your clit.

Without thinking you confess, “You’ve gotten bigger, it isn’t fair.” Satoru glides his cock in, admiring your little hole stretching as you take his cock. The ridge of his head tugging in your cunt when he softly pulls away.

“Is it because we both that my height, strength, and sculpted body makes your cunt wet?” He grabs your wrists and pins them together above your head with one hand. “Is that what makes you a weak little slut for my cock every time you see me?”

Your cunt clenches his cockhead, his hand are big and soft. It feels wonderful when he caresses your body. “I can't get enough, I thought being with you one more time would be enough, but I only miss you more.” Squeezing your hip, dragging his nails down your thigh, then massaging your soft tit, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

The way Satoru is fucking your tight, sensitive cunt is overwhelming. The weight of his cock, the softness of his skin and the three metal bars rubbing the inside of your cunt is such a wonderful sensation.

You’re losing your resolve, it takes everything in you to remind yourself, “This is a one-time thing, we go back to living how we did before?” He whines, cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink.

“You don't sound certain of that mama, is it because you’re thinking about how good we were together before? We can be like that again.” He slips his fingers in between your’s, holding your hand whilst clinging onto your hip. Angling his hips perfectly to rub your g-spot.

You whine “You mean before you left meeee,” He strokes your clit. “You’re an asshole, I don’t miss you.” He softly kisses your forehead, your sloppy wet, sensitive cunt squelches when he fucks his pierced cock into you harder.

Satoru taunts you, “That’s not what your sloppy wet cunt is telling me sweetheart.” He softly kisses you, slipping his tongue in when you mouth and whining when you softly bite his tongue. You moan, giving into his needy kiss.

You slip your fingers into Satoru’s soft hair, and wrap your legs around his waist. When he pulls away you whine, “Fuck you!”

He croons with a smirk, “Any time you want, you’re the one saying this has to be a one time thing, even though we are perfect together.”

Oreo’s m.list

[dudududuumaxverstappen]

Waking Up Together

with Lewis, Lando, Charles, Max

Lewis

"Baby?" you whisper against the shell of your boyfriend‘s ear, voice still tinged with sleep while wiggling one arm free from under the blanket. It‘s super toasty in bed, with Lewis holding you close and Roscoe sleeping partly on top of you, but you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything else in the world. They are simply perfect. Paradise. Everything you need.

"Hm?" Lewis shifts slightly, but only so he can get even closer, his face pressed against the side of your neck.

A soft laugh escapes you, your finally freed hand stroking gently over the side of his face. "It‘s almost midday."

"Five more minutes." His voice is hoarse, drowsy with sleep, and makes you smile. You gently lay your hand upon his face, and rest your head against him. "Five more minutes."

Lando

Your eyes flicker open the moment you feel someone kiss your nose. A soft giggle parts your lips and you open your eyes, looking into the beaming face of your boyfriend.

"Morning, my love,“ Lando says, partly sleepy, partly joyful, and a grin also forms on your lips.

"Good morning, my love,“ you tell him and sigh as you shift on the mattress and rest your head on the pillow again. "Do we have to get up already?"

Turning your head slightly, you look up at him, finding him still admiring you. Lando gives his head a small shake, and with a smile says, "Nope.“ He leans in again and kisses your nose once more. "It’s a Sunday without a race, so we can stay in bed all day."

"All day, you say?“ you hum and close your eyes again.

"All day,“ he confirms, and lies down beside you again. "We can cuddle some more. Have breakfast in bed, watch some shows, and then … then we could also have amazing, mind-blowing sex."

You have to chuckle and hear him laugh against your shoulder, his warm breath fanning your skin.

"Sounds like a phenomenal plan."

Charles

"Bonjour, my belle fille." Charles presses a soft kiss against your cheek as you open your eyes, blinking against the sunlight filtering in through curtains.

"How did you sleep?"

"Like a babe." You stretch your arms above your head before nustling your face into his chest again. "And you, my love?"

"Same," he hums happily, pulling you softly against him and sighing into your hair. "Would you enjoy breakfast in bed, or shall we go out to—"

"In bed," you interrupt him, tipping your head back with a grin so you can look at him. "Please."

"No need for please, Madame. Everything you want." He smiles as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"But you—"

A soft chuckle slips through his lips. "There‘s nothing better than breakfast in bed with you. And …" He wiggles his brows and laughs again. "Whatever it leads to afterwards."

Max

Leaning over him, you trace your fingers along the contour of his jaw, admiring the peaceful beauty of your boyfriend as he sleeps. He stirs awake slowly, smiling when he realises what you are doing. Gently, he grasps your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the inside of your palm. "Good morning, sunshine," he says against your palm. "Did you sleep well?

"Sooo well," you hum and grin at him. "You?"

"With you in my arms? Always like a king." You see him smile, but his eyes close again, and you know just how tired he is after a long weekend of practices, qualifying and racing.

"What about we sleep a little longer and then have breakfast in bed?"

He doesn’t really give you an answer, only humming in response before drifting off once more. You cuddle up to him, nustling into his chest, smiling against his soft skin.

[nanamisgirly]

pussy slapping with your maths teacherྀི

based on this ask (I hope the anon will like it🙂‍↕️)

you knew the email meant trouble the second it landed in your inbox.

subject : “Homework 6 — Integrity Dicussion.” from : Gojo.Satoru@college.ct

so now you're standing outside his office door, palms sweating, thighs pressed together in your miniskirt like that might save you from the cheating homework you assigned. it's not like you're scared of Gojo. he's just your goofy annoyingly attractive nerd math professor. the man wears Gundam socks with his loafers, makes calculus puns, and has a signed photo of Neil deGrasse Tyson on his bookshelf like it's a family heirloom.

but he also happens to have shoulders like a swimmer, hands big enough to palm a basketball, and a mouth made for sin that he hides behind dump jokes with his stupidly slutty glasses. you're not into him or anything tho, you're just not blind.

your knuckles tap against the door.

“come in,” he calls, voice low. too low actually.

you step in, closing the door behind you. 

the first thing you see are the posters of fractals and famous math equations—not surprising. in the other hand, what is really surprising is the life-size cardboard cutout of the pokémon Blastoise. what the fuck is that?

your surprise doesn't stop there, as your eyes land on the chunky old Casio calculator sitting on his desk next to a mug that says, “i'm a cute professor <3”.

he's seated at his desk, glasses on, sleeves rolled to the elbows showing strong forearms scribbled in veins, one ankle resting over the opposite knee like he's got all the time in the world. a lopsided smile appears as he asks “you're nervous ?”

you scoff, clutching your handbag a little tighter. “i'm not.” he's the one to talk—how would anyone look comfortable in a office looking like this?

“mmh. tell yourself that.” he leans, pulls open a drawer and slides out your homework. he taps the edge the paper as he hold it in the air. “you handed your homework last week. and you scored…a beautiful 97.” he tilts his head, gauging your reaction. 

you're feeling a bit too hot now, sweats trickling down your spine, but you try to hold it together. you feign innocence, “yeah, incredible isn't it?” you say, rolling your eyes to play it cool.

he hums thoughtfully. “sure… if you hadn't cheated.”

you swallow, crossing your arms as you cock a hip “a girl scores high and suddenly some old grump of a man's offended by it. what a world we live in.”

gojo leans back in his chair, gaze sliding over your form—lingering a bit too long on your thighs. “is that how it is?" he hums, eyes flicking up to meet yours "just a bitter old man then?” the corner of his mouth twitches like he's trying not to grin 

he clicks his tongue and leans back further, arms spreading across the armchair like he owns the place. he does, actually. his knees spread too—annoyingly wide, “look, we both know you didn't do these problems yourself. and you're gonna redo it. right here. right now. on me.” 

your lips part. “gojo—”

“professor gojo,” he corrects, tone maddeningly even. “you don't want me to call the Academic Integrity Committee, do you?”

you glance down at his thighs, then back up. “you're a math professor. Not my—”

“—brat tamer?” he cuts in smoothly, raising a brow without blinking.

you go still. your jaw clenches, heat crawling up the back of your neck. he's so smug. smug and patient and infuriatingly unfazed.

you step forward and settle on his lap—hovering, refusing to fully sit. if he thinks you're gonna give in that easily, he's dead wrong. you don't care if your thighs start shaking. you'll squat until the apocalypse if you have to.

“ah—!” a squeal rips out of you when his hands clamp around your hips, big and warm and decidedly firm as he drags you down until you're fully seated, straddling his lap. your miniskirt hikes up dangerously high in the process, your bare thighs pressed tight to his slacks.

his breath hitches, almost imperceptibly. you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't so hyper-aware of every single shift in the room.

“problem one,” he says, casually putting your paper on the desk like he isn't now rock-hard beneath you like a complete weirdo. his hands stay planted on your thighs, thumbs stroking idly, but his voice stays cold. unbothered, professional almost.

keyword : almost.

you swallow hard, cheeks burning from the sheer proximity—his firm chest pressed to your back, white fluffy hair brushing every time he leans in. his scent clings to your skin—clean linen, cologne, and chalk dust—it's driving you insane. and those damn impossible formulas staring up at you on the paper—differential equations, matrix exponentials, fucking laplace transforms. couldn't he have picked basic calculus ?

your brain is short-circuiting. and the little laughs of the far-too-good-looking-with-his-glasses-pushed-low-on-his-nose professor is doing nothing to ease your nerves. “solve the matrix for the homogeneous system.” your spine stiffens as his voice is nothing but hot air dragging goosebumps up your neck.

“c'mon, engineer girl. use that big brain of yours.” you let out a shaky exhale, trying to focus on the paper even while his fingers toy with the hem of your panties. he hasn't even really touched you, but you're feeling your panties clinging to you—embarrassingly wet.

“one over s-squared plus four?” you try something, mind too fuzzy to think. your breath catches as his fingertips trace your clothed slit—oh very so slowly. he doesn't bother pressing, just lets the fabric catch and soak even more.

“gojo, what are you—”

“professor,” he reminds you, tone suddenly sharp. “and…” he's turning his head, cheek brushing yours as he watches your teeth dig in your bottom lip “no guessing.” you shudder, thighs trembling on his thick one.

that’s ridiculous how sensitive you were from featherlight touches…you’re better than that..so why are your wetting your thighs by seconds ?

“from now on,” his fingers slip beneath the damp lace, two digits brushing your folds, “you get every problem right, you're so good at pretending to be smart—but be smart.” his hand curls back up—cupping your pussy, applying steady pressure to your aching clit through the underwear. your thighs squeeze together instinctively, the heat unbearable.

you stare at the same problem, chest rising and falling in heavy breath. “a-a inverse time b—?” you offer weakly.

a low, pitying sound escapes him.

smack.

“wrong again.” the sudden sharp slap on your cunt makes your entire body jolts in his lap, your ass pressing harder against his cock. your head drops forward, tears prickling your lashes, hips twitching in a pathetic attempt at friction.

it"s so humiliating. that nerd of a teacher. fuck.

“uh-huh, don't move, sweetie. who told you you get to grind on my thigh?” he grabs your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to meet his glacier-blue eyes glinting behind crooked glasses. “let's try again. if f(t) = sin(3t), then what's the Laplace transform?” his breath ghosts over your cheek, one hand directing your gaze to the paper like you aren't already losing your mind.

your mind scrambles, your pussy pulses, and you're cursing the world for putting you in this situation. you can't even help it, it just feels so good. 

your voice breaks on a moan, nothing reflecting your angry mind “three… over…squared plus n-nine—”

gojo groans softly, cock twitching under your ass. “there she is,” he mutters, hand sliding down to rub rough circles against your clit. “smart and fuckable? you might be my new favorite little project sweetie.”

and just as a whimper leaves your lips—the second your hips barely roll forward in a desperate grind—he yanks his hand away.

“what did i say?” he asks, calmly adjusting his glasses like he's not the filthiest thing on earth right now. “no grinding. one right answer doesn't mean you get to cum. you've got four more questions, we're far from done.”

he lands another slap on your clit—scarily precise. “i get to edge you again. and again. until your poor little cunt forgets what cumming even feels like.” you sob his name as he pulls your underwear taut between your fat lips, the soaked lace dragging cruelly against your swollen clit. you shove your fist into your mouth, biting it to stay quiet.

he dips his fingers back into the ruined mess between your legs. not inside—never inside apparently. he's probably a psychopathe who loves skimming his student's pussy entrance, circling it like a threat.

 “if you get all the five right tho," he murmurs darkly, "i'll bend you over this desk and fuck you, raw, with your nose pressed onto that test," your walls clench hard at his words—and he feels it, obviously…

smirking into your hair, he adds, “you'd love that, of course you would. so go on, sweetie. show me you're not just a brainless little brat. show me how much of a perfect slut you are for good grades.”

you swear once you'll get all your mind together, you're gonna make him regret everything. that cocky, small-dick bastard—acting like he's got a big game between his thighs. 

a nerd like him, isn't packing enough to pleasure you. right?

^⌯𖥦⌯^

a/n aaaand we thanks my bachelor in engineer for my knowledge ☝🏼 tho i hope you enjoyed reading this, i don’t think it’s perfect buuut i tried :))) let me know 🫶��

[neeeooon]

Hey neo!Literally ran to ur requests as I found out!I wanted to ask specifically if u can do a fif for nagi or Rin or both about them having a girlbest friend they absolutely adore!!!💕

i swear i read reo and got like two paragraphs in before realizing im blinder than yuki 🙃 hope you enjoy!

a goth, a slob, and a ray of sunshine

nagi seishiro & fem!reader, itoshi rin & fem!reader. platonic, crack, fluff. reader is nagi and rin’s best friend but nagi and rin are constantly competing for her affection

“i’m taking y/n to watch the minecraft movie in theaters tonight.”

“think again. you took her to wendy’s last night. it’s my turn to hang out with her.”

your head flicked from nagi to rin as they went back and forth, arguing about your schedule as you stood there with a smile. “why don’t we all go to the movies together?” you suggested, drawing their attention.

neither looked happy to have to share you, their best friend, but they also hated seeing you upset. nagi was the first to speak after shrugging. “‘m not paying for his ticket.”

“i didn’t ask you to,” rin snapped back with a glare. you stepped forward and took one of their hands in each of your own. “tonight will be fun!”

you should have known better than to force your two best friends to sit through a nearly two hour film peacefully, but you managed to keep your eye from twitching as rin and nagi pulled your arms like you were a tug-of-war rope.

the theater was great at distracting you from your friends, as it was full of lively movie-goers, but even they couldn’t save you fully.

“y/n,” rin whispered into your ear. “do you want any snacks?”

you smiled at him and shook your head. a moment later, there was a tap on your other shoulder, and you turned to see nagi staring at you before leaning it. “thirsty?”

shaking your head again, you fell back against your seat. big mistake, as in doing so, your head stopped acting as a block between nagi and rin. they glared at each other, and you sighed when neither refused to get comfortable.

thankfully, the movie came to a quick end. you jumped up on your own, ignoring both boys when they offered you their hands, and left the theater without the normal skip in your step.

“slow down,” rin called from behind you, quickly followed by nagi’s “‘m tired.”

you waited until you were outside of the building before spinning around to face them, your smile back but tight. “yes?”

rin blinked. then he shuffled uncomfortable and tugged at his sleeve, avoiding your eyes. “i’m sorry.”

both you and nagi stared at him, your lips parted in shock as nagi rolled his eyes.

“it’s okay,” you replied, mouth twisting into a real smile as rin tried his best to mimic the look. nagi practically waddled forward and let his head fall against your shoulder. “‘m sorry, too.”

you chuckled when his words tickled your neck and playfully ruffled his white hair. “it’s okay, too. i appreciate you both for joining me. maybe next time we’ll have more fun!”

nagi and rin internally cooed at your adorable excitement. nagi lifted his head from your shoulder just enough to shoot a silent glare at rin, who quickly returned the look.

“one day, maybe the three of us will be best friends!” you exclaimed.

“never.”

“not on his life.”

you expected that. instead of letting it put a damper on the rest of your evening, you reached both hands out—one for rin and one for nagi. neither hesitated long before accepting, and you swung their hands in yours as the three of you finally left the theater.

[izzih22]

Can u do one where Paige wins the WNBA finals and runs to hug Azzi after the game

For Everything We Dreamed

Note: sorry it took so long for me to put it out

The confetti hadn’t even fully touched the floor when Paige dropped the ball and took off in a dead sprint.

She didn’t hear the crowd’s roar, didn’t see the swarm of teammates chasing her for a tackle-hug, didn’t even register the Finals MVP trophy someone tried to hand her mid-stride. Her chest was burning, not from the game, but from something deeper—years of sacrifice, months of pain, dreams built in whispers and quiet hotel rooms, in late-night phone calls and crumpled jerseys clutched after a loss.

All she could see was Azzi.

Standing courtside in a neutral jacket—nothing branded, nothing blue or green—just her. Arms crossed, eyes already glassy, biting her lip like she wasn’t about to cry in front of thirty thousand people and a national broadcast.

Paige reached her in seconds. She didn’t stop. She barreled into her—arms wrapping tight around her waist, lifting her clear off the ground, burying her face into the crook of her neck like no one else in the world mattered.

Azzi laughed. Or sobbed. It was hard to tell.

“Jesus, Paige—”

“We did it,” Paige choked, voice raw, shaking, heart slamming against her ribcage. “I did it. We did it.”

Azzi’s arms came around her neck, tight and trembling. “You did it, baby.”

“No.” Paige pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “This—this is everything we dreamed about. Remember? Sophomore year? Sitting in your room with that busted mini hoop and talking about the WNBA? Playing against each other? Finals? All of it?”

Azzi nodded, tears now streaking her cheeks, unbothered by the cameras trained on them.

“God,” Paige exhaled, forehead leaning against hers. “I saw you as soon as the buzzer sounded. I didn’t even think. I just—had to get to you.”

“You didn’t even let your team celebrate,” Azzi said softly, hands still curled around the back of Paige’s neck. “You just ran straight to me.”

“You’re my team.” Paige’s voice cracked. “You’ve always been.”

Azzi made the softest noise—almost like a laugh but more like a sob—and Paige kissed her.

Right there. In the middle of the chaos, under the falling confetti and the flashing cameras and a crowd going absolutely insane. She kissed her like they had nothing left to prove. Like the years of hiding and deflecting and dancing around questions were over. Like they were just two girls who loved each other—who had loved each other through everything.

Azzi pulled away first, her hand cradling Paige’s jaw. “I’m so proud of you.”

Paige shook her head, blinking fast. “I’m proud of us. You’ve been here the whole time, Az. All those games, all those breakdowns—you carried me through so much. Even on different teams, you still showed up.”

Azzi smiled, and Paige thought she might fall apart all over again.

“I was never not gonna be here,” Azzi said simply. “This moment? It’s yours. But it’s also ours.”

Behind them, the team was finally catching up—players calling for Paige, reporters shouting her name, camera crews jostling to get the perfect shot. But none of it pierced the bubble they’d built in each other’s arms.

Paige glanced toward the chaos and then back to Azzi, who was already smoothing her thumb over her cheek like she knew exactly what she needed.

“Come out there with me,” Paige said suddenly. “Come celebrate with me.”

Azzi’s eyes widened. “Paige, I’m not even—”

“I don’t care.” Her grip tightened around Azzi’s hand. “I want you next to me.”

There was a pause—like Azzi was weighing all the reasons she shouldn’t—and then she gave the smallest nod. “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”

Paige laced their fingers together and led her back toward the court, toward the confetti-strewn chaos of the celebration.

And when the cameras turned their way again, Paige didn’t flinch. She pulled Azzi into her side, eyes glowing, smile soft.

Because the trophy was incredible. The win meant everything.

But Azzi—Azzi was the reason for everything.

[junojoel]

Still Beating

Tommy Miller x fem!Reader, 1k

Summary: You thought you’d lost Tommy forever. But when you find each other again, world stops.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, takes place during the breach in episode 2, everyone is dying and they're fucking.

requested by anon!! after that episode i just knew i had to start writing for tommy. this isn't as long as i'd have liked but i am writing a longer tommy fic which takes place after ep2 rn !

The night started with sirens.

Then came the screaming.

You were on shift when it all went to hell. The north wall breached, lights out, infected flooding in like water through a cracked dam. The radio in your hand crackled uselessly as names barked out of it—some yelling for backup, others swallowed by static.

Tommy's name never came through.

You’d searched for him—raced through the chaos, rifle in hand, eyes wild, calling his name over and over. You helped a kid climb out of a flipped patrol truck, shot two clickers with your last bullets, and ducked through alleyways blackened by smoke. And still—no sign of him.

You thought he was dead.

You felt it in your bones. That hollow, soul-crushing certainty that the one person who made all this bullshit survivable—he was gone.

You were alone.

And then that voice—rough, familiar, panicked.

“Tommy?” you called out, heart seizing in your chest. Your hands shook around the grip of your knife.

And then you saw him—bloodied, limping, face smeared with soot and god-knows-what. But alive. His eyes locked onto yours like he hadn’t believed it either. His mouth opened to say something—anything—but you were already running.

Your body collided with his, arms wrapped around his shoulders like you were trying to fuse together. You felt his heartbeat slamming through his chest as he crushed you against him, one hand in your hair, the other gripping your waist so hard it might bruise.

“I thought you were gone,” you breathed into his neck. “I thought—fuck, Tommy—”

“I couldn’t find you—there was too many—fuck—I thought I lost you—”

You pulled back, just enough to look at him. His eyes were red, wild, filled with that familiar fire and something darker beneath it—fear. Relief. Need.

Then he kissed you.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw and urgent and full of everything you’d both been too afraid to say until this moment. His lips devoured yours like he was starved—like your mouth was the only thing anchoring him to the world.

You could feel the adrenaline between your legs, that sharp, hot ache building, screaming to be touched—to feel. His hands slid under your jacket, fingertips trailing over your bare waist as he groaned against your lips.

You pulled back, breathing hard.

“We could’ve died,” you whispered.

He nodded, forehead pressed to yours. “But we didn’t.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, locked in each other’s arms, clinging like gravity had loosened its hold and only he could anchor you.

“I thought I lost you,” he said again, voice rough and shaking. “I didn’t know where you were—I—I was fuckin’ ready to burn the whole goddamn town down tryin’ to find you.”

You swallowed hard, pressing your forehead against his. “You found me.”

He nodded, lips brushing yours again. “Need to get outta the open. Just… gimme a minute with you. Somewhere quiet. Please.”

You didn’t question it. Just grabbed his hand and led him off the street—past a half-destroyed shed, down into a low embankment where the old hunting cabins sat, long abandoned but mostly intact. He followed without hesitation, every step heavier with want and relief.

You pushed open the half-busted door of one of the cabins. Dust kicked up in the slant of moonlight coming through the slats, but it was dry. Covered. Private enough.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he had you.

His mouth was on yours again, devouring you, teeth scraping your bottom lip. You moaned into it, fingers clawing at his jacket. He shrugged it off, dragging yours with it, leaving a trail of fabric on the floor.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” you whispered as he kissed down your neck. “I thought it was over.”

He growled low in his throat, like the idea made him sick. “Don’t say that. Don’t even fuckin’ think it.”

“I want to feel you. Need to know you're here.”

“Yeah?” he said, voice hot and husky, already fumbling with your belt. “Gonna give it to you, baby. Gotta make sure you remember this—you and me. We’re still fuckin’ here.”

Clothes came off in a blur—yours first, then his. Your back met the edge of a dusty mattress, half-crumbled and forgotten, but neither of you cared. He hovered over you, gaze raking down your body like he didn’t know where to put his hands first.

“Goddamn…” he muttered, running a calloused palm over your bare hip.

You pulled him down with a desperate whimper, guiding him between your thighs. His cock was hard, thick, already brushing where you needed him most, but he took a second—just long enough to line himself up, push the tip against you, and look at you.

He pushed in, slow at first, just enough to feel you stretch around him—hot, tight, wet—and his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch. You arched into him, gasping, already aching for more.

Then he bottomed out, and you both groaned in unison—deep and guttural.

There was nothing gentle about the way he moved after that. It was raw, rhythmic, every thrust echoing in the little cabin like thunder. His hands gripped your thighs, forcing them wider, using the leverage to drive into you harder.

One hand slid between you, thumb rubbing your clit in messy, firm circles that had your whole body seizing up. Your moans got louder, breath shorter, legs shaking.

“Come for me,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping. “Wanna feel you fall apart, baby.”

You shattered beneath him—mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm hit hard, hot and fast. He groaned as you clenched around him, barely holding on as he fucked you through it.

“Shit—fuck—‘m gonna—”

“Do it,” you gasped. “Inside. Please, Tommy—please.”

His hips stuttered, cock twitching as he came deep inside you with a rough cry of your name, collapsing over you as his body trembled.

Silence. Only the sound of your breaths—staggered, exhausted, and so goddamn alive.

When he finally pulled back, still inside you, he kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your lips again, softer this time.

“We made it,” he whispered.

You nodded, fingers tangled in his damp curls. “Yeah. We did.”

And he whispered the words like a vow, like a promise. “I’m never lettin’ you go again.”

[chrattho1]

dilf!chris x nanny!reader

"you listening?"....setting up ava's room together.

“dada?” ava looked up at chris, her big brown eyes impatiently staring at her father’s broad frame as he scanned around the room, his eyes darting over the empty spots with a small frown.

“yeah princess?” his attention still divided from his three year old, trying to figure out how the fuck is he going to get this room set up all on his own.

“can we add rainbows and—and kittens?” ava lisped through her words, little hands held up in the air signalling where she wants the stickers to be stuck on the pink walls.

“ofcourse sweetheart, go grab my phone will ya?” his voice soft when he kneels down to his daughter’s tiny figure. he is restless, he has rung you up twice now and you haven’t picked up or left him a message yet, its not at all like you to ignore his calls.

“okay!” ava frolics across the room, her shoes put on the other way around, left shoe on the right foot and vice versa—squeaking on the floor. the messy pigtails chris tried to tie her hair into fall down even more with her uneven stride towards the living room.

chris sighs looking around the blindingly pink room.

“fuck..” he whispers in frustration, as much as people would think he’s lacking as a single father to his daughter, he takes it very seriously.

from the littlest things ever, he makes sure ava doesn’t feel the need to remind him or ask him twice.

just when chris almost panics looking around the room, he heard the main door creak open followed by ava’s soft giggles, and he knows exactly who it is.

“missed me?” he heard you speak to ava.

he makes his way out of the room, leaning against the door frame with his hands crossed over his chest.

“well look who finally decided to show up” he teases, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth watching you as you bent down at ava’s level and talk to her.

your eyes snap to chris’s figure standing across. his tall, broad frame, his hair disheveled, under eye bags extending down his face, god he’s so fine. a smile forms onto your lips at his comment.

you pick ava up in your arms, tucking stray hair strands away from her face as you walk past chris into the room hes been fussing over.

“y’know last year of uni is beating my ass, give me a break” you huff playfully as you take in the empty room.

“yeah, yeah whatever” chris shrugs, trying to hide the smile creeping up on his face.

he makes his way towards you, now stood right beside as you both look around the dull yet very bright space.

“we gonna add stickers!” ava breaks the silence in your arms, looking up at you with glimmering eyes.

“are we now?” you ask and ava nods enthusiastically.

chris turns to you, his unusually soften features telling you he needs your help.

you settle ava down on the ground, holding out a hand for her to hold onto.

“think we should start with the bed first?” chris asked, his eyes narrowing.

you nod in response, going over to grab the new sheets that seem to be in a packet still.

“that goes the other way around” a few moments later chris is grabbing the sheets from your comparatively small hands, shifting the sheets and giving it back to you, his fingers lingering over your palm longer than intended.

you watch him make his way to the other side of the bed, clutching the ends of the sheet and open it up.

ava is sitting on the living room couch, watching something on the tv peacefully, not batting an eye over at the efforts these two put into setting up her bedroom. she really is a princess.

you watch chris tuck the sheets into the corners of the bed with ease, lifting the mattress just enough to slide the sheets in and tuck them in. his arms at work flexing up, showing off the barely any workout he does during his free time.

you take a small gulp, shaking your head just slightly to shake the those thoughts off your mind. this is why you hated being around him, always so distracting.

but it wasn’t until a few minutes later, chris stood across the room facing you, talking about how something looks “off”, he raises his hands up to stretch them above his head, his white tank sliding up with his shoulders, his v-line on full show.

you quickly bring your eyes up to his again, noticing a glint of mischief in them, he’s suddenly stopped talking.

“you listening?” one of the corners of his mouth tugs up, smirking.

“yeah?” you try to act chill, but the gradual rise and fall of your chest gives it away. gives you away.

chris simply shakes his head tilting it down to the floor with a gruff chuckle passing through his lips.

your heart races, pounding loudly within your rib cage. watching him walk towards the wall you’re leaning against.

he stops just at the distance where your heavy breathing hits his face, his eyes scan over your features. that fuckass smirk never leaving his face.

“help me with stickers next?” he raises an eyebrow, clearly teasing you now. he knows the effect he has on you, and he loves taking advantage of it.

you let out a small sigh, straightening up from the wall and nodding in response.

he walks backwards with the smirk still plastered on his face, his eyes never leaving you as he picks up the target plastic bag up, dumping it on the floor. displaying all the different kinds of stickers he had bought for decoration.

you walk towards him and grab a few, looking around the room you both discuss where the stickers should go.

once that was discussed, chris was on the other side of the room—sticking up stickers on the walls and you were doing the same just on the opposite side.

after a few minutes of silence and working, you speak.

“chris?” your hand stretched above your head on the wall, trying to reach a spot that your hand clearly can’t reach.

chris looks over at you and a grin follows right after he realises what he’s looking at.

“can’t reach?” he asked rhetorically, walking over to you.

“yeah, can you just stick this one—” you were cut off by your own gasp, when chris’s strong hands wrapped around your legs pushing you up his shoulder.

you look down at him with furrowed brows and he’s already looking up at you with a playful smile, he wiggles his eyebrows to signal you to stick the sticker up.

“go ahead, stick it” he nudges his head.

you stretch your hand up and stick the rainbow up right where it needs to be stuck.

chris puts you down like it is the easiest thing ever, not even letting out a huff of breath after.

you watch make him way to where he first was, like nothing happened.

another hour passes by and you both seem to be done with the room. ava’s crashed out on the couch, the tv light gleaming on her small face.

“be here tomorrow?” chris asked watching you grab your bag indicating your departure.

“y’know i wasn’t supposed to come in today right?” you raised an eyebrow, testing him playfully.

“like i’d call you and your ass wont show up?” chris chuckles, knowing that all it takes for you to leave everything is one call from him. its kinda pathetic really, but he loves it.

you scoff, rolling your eyes at him.

“don’t give me that, i’ll see you tomorrow kay?” you watch him speak to you as he makes his way to ava on the couch, you mumble an “okay” before turning onto your heels towards the main door.

once you get into you car, you let out a long sigh. dropping your head on the wheel, you try to collect your thoughts.

you pull yourself up to start the car when your eyes land on your bag that you just placed down on your passenger seat, something pink and glittery shining off of it.

you bring the bag closer to see what it is, it is a sticker. a sticker that reads “good girl” in an obnoxious font, and loud color. it ruins the entire look of your bag but you can’t help but smile, feeling your stomach turn.

taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hope2244 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @whore4chris @chris-halleluja @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @bilssturns @sturnobessed @mxnsonn @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo @slutformatt17 @realuvrrr @sweetxcheeryx @sturnl0ve @estellesdoll @glitterybtch @courta13 @mattsbitchh @slvtf0rchr1s @trevorsgodmother

[formulaonecrumbs]

junie! sitting in the pre-op room and wondering what osc would be like with reader during pre-op. like vitals, getting the iv, them forcing her to go pee for a pregnancy test, getting in the gown, etc

-🧸

one breath at a time

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

summary: reader goes in for a d&c, only to discover more.

warnings: medical setting, pre-op anxiety, unexpected pregnancy, bleeding, fertility themes

A/N: HIIIII i saw the pregnancy test thing and thought a little plot twist would be fun but i get if this is not what u were expecting SORRY 😭😭 i think i’ve been taking too much liberty with some requests, but this idea was too good to pass up. idek if this pregnancy even makes since vut ENJOY. I LOVE U. praying for u and praying the surgery goes well. i’m proud of u. ❤️

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

you’ve barely slept.

it’s not even light out yet when oscar pulls into the hospital’s underground lot, the sky still a cold steel gray. your fingers are twisted in the sleeves of your hoodie, mouth dry, heart racing under the weight of the unknown.

you’re supposed to be here for a d&c.

they couldn’t figure out why you were still bleeding, why the pain wouldn’t let up. scans weren’t clear. could be a cyst, could be leftover tissue, could be anything. the only way to really know is going in.

and now you’re here. gown, anesthesia, paperwork, the works.

oscar parks close to the lift and shuts the engine off, but he doesn’t move to get out.

instead, he turns to you. both hands reach over to hold yours, grounding and steady and warm.

“you okay?” he asks gently, voice still hoarse from sleep.

you stare ahead. “not really.”

he leans in and kisses your cheek, then your forehead, then presses his mouth just below your eye. “we’re doing this together, yeah?”

“yeah,” you whisper.

the nurse is kind, which helps.

she walks you back to the pre-op area, hands you a gown, points to the little cubicle with the curtain. oscar’s allowed to come back once you’re changed and vitals are taken.

you move slowly—partly because you’re sore and partly because you’re scared.

hospital gowns are always too big. you tie the back shut and glance at yourself in the mirror for a second before looking away.

you look tired. pale. bloated from the hormones.

you don’t feel like yourself.

the nurse is waiting when you step out, smiling. she clips a monitor to your finger, slides the cuff onto your arm. “you doing okay, sweetheart?”

“yeah,” you lie.

she doesn’t push.

“we just need to get a quick urine sample before anesthesia,” she says. “pregnancy test—standard protocol.”

you nod, already moving to the bathroom. it’s routine. you know it’s routine.

you haven’t even had sex since the bleeding started. there’s no way.

right?

the test takes ten minutes to come back.

by then, you’re already lying back on the hospital bed, IV inserted, oscar seated at your side. he’s holding your hand, tracing patterns over the inside of your wrist.

you try to pretend your chest isn’t tightening. you try to pretend this doesn’t feel like more than routine.

but when the nurse returns, her smile is tight. professional.

she walks in holding a chart and sets it at the end of your bed. “so… we’re going to delay the procedure, actually.”

your heart stumbles. “what? why?”

she glances at oscar, then at you. “your pregnancy test came back positive.”

silence.

you blink. “what?”

“it was faint, so we ran it again. and then again, with a blood test. it’s early, but it’s definitely there.”

you feel everything slow down.

your fingers go numb.

you look at oscar. he’s staring at the nurse like she just said the sky is green.

“but—” your voice catches. “we thought—i thought it was just—”

“you’ve been bleeding,” she says gently. “and we don’t know what that means yet. but you are pregnant.”

your breath shakes.

oscar squeezes your hand. “hey, hey—look at me.”

you do. your eyes sting.

“we’re okay,” he says, low and steady. “you’re okay. we’ll figure it out. one step at a time.”

“what if it’s ectopic? or not viable? what if—”

“one step,” he says again. “we’re not doing what-ifs. we’re just breathing. we’re just here.”

the nurse steps out to give you a minute.

you turn your face into oscar’s shoulder and let yourself fall apart for a second—because the fear is choking and the shock is worse, and your body hurts and your brain hurts and you don’t know how to process any of this.

but oscar holds you. strokes your back. tells you it’s going to be okay even when he’s scared, too.

hours pass.

you get sent to a different wing. a different doctor consults. scans are ordered.

it’s early, they say. they can’t make any promises. but something’s there. maybe more than you thought. maybe not what you feared.

oscar never lets go of your hand.

he cancels everything for the next two days. turns off his phone. gets you water. tucks your hoodie around your legs when you shiver. climbs into the hospital bed behind you when your back starts to ache again, wrapping around you like armour.

you don’t talk much. there isn’t much to say yet.

but he holds you all the way through it. and when they finally let you go home to rest, he carries your bag and drives you slow and gentle, one hand on your thigh the entire ride.

you’re not okay. not yet.

but you’re not alone.

and somehow, in this swirl of fear and confusion, that makes all the difference.

THE END :>

[doiliedaze]

Shea Butter Baby

Warnings: intense make out, touch starved Sevika, fingering r! & s!receiving, praise, playful banter, choking s! receiving, pouty bimbo reader, dry humping (we need to bring this back), pussy suffocation r! receiving, marking, Sevika is turned on by your scent

Genre: smut

A/n: i was re-listening to Shea Butter Baby and was like 💡Sevika

───────┈ · ·

Nightlife. It’s loved for different reasons by different people but for you, your favorite aspect is the getting ready process!

You were putting your finishing touches together, lip gloss here and fixing your skirt (if you could call it that) there. Most importantly your hair! You had it in rollers since last night. Flattening what was necessary and fluffing what’s needed.

You are about to text your girls to start heading your way when you head a wolf whistle flow through the air.

“Hi Vika” you turn to her and give her a 360 of your appearance. She’s leaving on the door frame before pushing herself off to get closer to you. “Look real pretty sweetheart” she murmures as her hand pulls you in by your waist.

A dopey smile breaks out on your face, “yeah?”

“The prettiest” she whispers as she kisses a trail down your neck. She inhales deeply pressing your hips to hers.

Her fingers slowly lift the inch of fabric you call a skirt and pushes your panties to the side. Her thick middle and ring finger pushes in as she walks you to the bed.

“Wait my hair-” she shushes you by kissing you. Her tongue sliding against yours.

You swallow a moan as you feel her fingers pick up the pace. “Miss you” she whispers as she pulls away to kiss your forehead.

Typically you’d respond if she wasn’t knuckles deep in your cunt at the moment. She smiles at the lack of response, look at you lost in bliss. Her mouth finds yours again and you lean into her.

Your leg moving from under her to wrap around her, so she can push deeper. There’s a build in your hips as they start to shake, and your back arches. Sevika moans as your nails scratch her back then move to squeeze around her neck.

The pitch of your voice fills the room as your body shakes through your orgasm. As you catch your breathe you look at her, “I’m supposed to go.”

“I know” she states with a smirk,”I couldn’t help myself though…” she aligns her clothed crotch onto you bare sopping one. The cold hardness of her zipper presses against your puffy clit.

“Fuck Sev” you moan as she creates a slow rhythm. Her fingers find their way into your hair. “Don’t pull” you whine, “shut up” she mutters as she bites your neck and pulls.

Her rhythm builds as she feels herself getting closer especially with the help of your grip around her neck tightening. You repeat her name as your hips shake again, that familiar burn in your tummy forming.

Her hips become a bit reckless and buries her head into your neck panting. The tightening grip on your hair starts a throb, a throb almost in competition with your clit.

She lets out a loud groan as she orgasms with you. Her body slightly weak on top of you. You caress her face softly and tilt her chin to make eye contact. “How fucked is my hair?”

She lets out a laugh, “is that all you can think about right now?” With a pout you nod yes. Shakily she gets off you and looks you over, “you could still go out”

Scurrying to look at yourself in your floor length mirror in your shared bedroom you gasp, “are you insane? I look like I’ve been attacked!”

“Exactly what I was going for.” She smiles laying back her legs hanging off the bed. Looking back at her and get on your knees, nuzzling in-between her legs. You smile as your hands trails down her thighs. Her abs contracting in anticipation.

She helps you slide off her pants and boxers. Her fat cunt was leaking and her engorged clit is begging for a kiss.

Slowly you lick at her clit then press a soft kiss against it causing her to whimper. You flatten your tongue as you bury yourself into her cunt.

Feeling her slick paint your nose to chin. You close your eyes in bliss as vika holds your face there, just wanting you to work your tongue. Her grip returning on your hair as she grinds against you. Her eyes fluttering as she moans your name.

You not breathing didn’t matter to either of you at the moment too focused on getting her to her nearing orgasm. Eventually her thrust becomes sloppy and her back arches. With tear brimmed eyes you look up at her. She couldn’t look down at you if she tried too lost in the pleasure.

Her nails scratch your scalp as she cums into your mouth. Her thighs trembling and her voice broken. When she lets you go she props herself up to look at you, “c’mere pretty.” With that she helps you up onto her lap.

“‘m sorry bout your hair doll.”

“It’s okay…I almost forgot about it” you laugh as you lay your head on her shoulder.

“How about to make up for it we go out out tomorrow?” She rubs your back and nod.

With a peck to your shoulder and the silence of the night the two of you fall asleep holding each other.

───────┈ · ·

A/n: I’m insanely horny and I’m insanely domestic, someone make me a housewife NOW ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ᵕ ˂ ꒱ྀི১

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian @furrytaesss @milanyas @highnfemme @5seos @artemisdreamfairie @ellabswife

Dividers- @anitalenia

[bullet-prooflove]

Commitment: Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @travelingmypassion @julius-ceasar

Companion piece to:

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Little Black Dress - Frank starts to spiral when he realises you're dating.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about the life you had together.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank's door.

The Three Cs - Frank and you finally discuss your issues and pave away towards the future.

The Wall - A date at the climbing wall leads to a revelation from Frank.

Frank’s worried when he steps inside your new home. He’s worried because there’s twelve tiny liquor bottles, all empties lined up in a row along the back wall in your garden. Beside him, you light up a cigarette and the scent of tobacco floods his senses as he takes a deep breath, inhaling it.

“Is this you asking for help?” He asks, this mouth dry, his heart fluttering.

“No.” You say as you hand him the cigarette. He takes it gratefully, placing it between his lips. “This is me making a commitment and having fun with it.”

You take out the slingshot you confiscated from your nephew before scooping up a couple of stones from the rockery in the corner.

“These past few months with you have shown me that you are making a real commitment to your sobriety, to us and the reason I invited you here tonight is because I want to make one of my own.” You tell him, loading the slingshot. “From now on my home is going to be a dry home, no booze or anything like that. I want you to feel comfortable when you stay here, to not have to worry about being around things that might trigger you.”

“Ivy, we haven’t talked about staying over yet.” Frank reminds you, taking a drag of the cigarette. “And you still haven’t told me what the bottles are about.”

“Sleepovers are something we’ll be discussing in depth later over dinner.” You tell him before lining up your shot. “And I thought since we sucked so hard at glass blowing, maybe we’d be better at glass breaking instead. I bet I can do five of these by the time you’ve finished that cigarette.”

“No fucking way.” Frank says shaking his head before you release the stone. It sails through the air, smashing through the glass, creating an eruption of tiny glittering shards along the back wall.

“Five and you stay the night.” You barter and he hides his smile behind the cigarette.

“Ivy.” He says, blowing out a stream of smoke out the side of his mouth. “If you want me to stay, you don’t have to best me in a competition.”

“I know.” You say, concentrating on lining up that second shot. “But it’s more fun that way, don’t you think?”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bbyg4rl]

sorry if someone has already requested this but how do you think jj would treat his girl on her birthday?? i turn 24 today and all i want is him 😭😭😭

AWW HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! sorry if im late 😭

You wake up to the soft tickle of lips brushing over your cheeks, your forehead, the corner of your mouth. Then another. And another. And another.

“Happy birthday, sunshine,” JJ whispers, voice still thick with sleep and smile.

You groan, squinting your eyes open to find him grinning like a fool, hair a mess, shirtless, and clearly proud of himself. He kisses your nose. Then your chin. Then your shoulder. "That’s twenty-four kisses—one for each year. I know it's early, but I got more where that came from."

He’s already been up, you realize—your favorite coffee is on the nightstand, still steaming beside a plate of half burnt pancakes. There’s a messy bouquet of wildflowers in a jar he clearly snatched from the kitchen.

“JJ…” you murmur, touched.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head, crawling over you, arms caging you in, “Today’s not about me. It’s your day, baby. I’ve got it all planned out. Starting with breakfast in bed.” he beams while handing you the pancakes he'd made.

You laugh, wrapping your arms around the plate as he peppers your face in kisses again, like he physically can’t stop. He probably can’t. Your heart aches in the best way. You kiss him back, slow and sweet, and he melts right into it.

“Best birthday already,” you whisper, and he smiles.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he winks, then pauses. “We're eating breakfast together.” He gives you one last kiss before crawling down to have his breakfast. And you were having breakfast together, just, your's was pancakes and his was—well, you.

read more concepts here !

[psformybss]

hey loved the last one x

have a request for hidden vows

there is an interview the outerbanks cast did called scene stealerd where they react to fans doing stuff related to the show. I have an idea. what if the whole cast is reacting together and a clip of yn comes up. the producers of the channel asked her to submit a clip. the clip is a complication of her reenacting a couple of rafe scenes like:

the scene where he says, "I think we should kill them all" to ward

season 2 episode 10 scene where John b and rafe are in the red boiler engine room and he says " watch your head man" and the rest of the script

the scene where wheezie gives rafe money cause Ward kicked him out in season one, and she tells him about how ward is taking sarah to the Bahamas and he is like " I know about a billion more things about business them she does........"

lastly the season 2 scene where rafe and ward and talking how he shot her and he's like "I think I shot her. I was trying to shoot John b but she got in the way. i think I shot her but I don't care that i did".

in all of these yn is like impersonating rafe as kinda sassy and it's super funny. the cast cracks up and drew is all laughing and shaking his head

Scene Stealer

series masterlist

warnings: chaos energy, actor impersonation, unexpected talent, too much laughter

an: hiii, im so glad you loved them! this idea was so fun to write, there’s a slight chance i didn’t get all of the dialogue from the scenes right cause i mostly went from memory so if i didn’t pretend that’s the dialogue that’s actually on the show

════════════════

By the time the cast of Outer Banks piled onto the main couch, the room was buzzing.

They’d spent the past hour reacting to fan-made recreations—laughing, cringing, occasionally questioning their own performances when someone on TikTok out-acted them in a wig and a hoodie. Now, all seven of them were crammed together in front of the biggest screen yet, still breathless from too much laughter and too many inside jokes.

Madison, Chase, and Carlacia had melted into one tangled heap on one side of the couch, knees knocking and shoulders bumping as they fought for space. Madelyn and Rudy flanked the other end, the latter already half on the floor. JD had somehow wedged himself between them, sliding slowly toward the edge like gravity had given up. Drew sat slightly off-center, posture suspiciously straight—legs stretched out, forearms braced on his thighs, water bottle dangling loose in one hand.

He didn’t say anything.

Which, of course, made everyone suspicious.

“You’re suspiciously quiet, Starkey,” Madison noted, squinting at him.

Drew just eyed the monitor like it might bite him. “I know that face,” he said, nodding toward the producer behind the camera. “That’s the chaos face.”

The producer didn’t even try to deny it. Just smiled and said, “For this last video, we reached out to someone special. Someone who knows the show… intimately.”

Rudy gasped. “It’s your mom.”

“Worse,” Carlacia grinned. “It’s gotta be Y/N.”

Drew blinked. Once. Slowly. “Oh no.”

Chase pointed at the screen, already gleeful. “Roll it. Roll it now.”

_______

The screen faded in from black.

A familiar kitchen appeared, fridge slightly ajar, dishwasher humming faintly in the background. Y/N stood barefoot in the center, hair tossed into a chaotic bun, backwards cap tugged low, one of Drew’s hoodies nearly swallowing her whole.

She paced slowly across the tile. Calm. Deliberate. Head tilted just so.

And then, in a voice so casual it bordered on cheerful:

“I think we should kill them all.”

She stopped. Blank-faced. Still. Like she was talking about grocery lists instead of murder.

_______

The room detonated.

“NO—NO, WHY IS SHE SO CASUAL?!” Carlacia shrieked.

Rudy kicked the coffee table, rolling backward onto the floor. “SHE’S GOT THE HEAD TILT. That’s the tilt!”

Madelyn was pointing at the screen like it had personally offended her. “She looks exactly like him—why does she look like him?!”

Drew sat back slowly, squinting in disbelief. “That’s… that’s literally what I did.”

“She studied you like a nature documentary,” Madison howled. “You’re done.”

_______

Y/N crouched behind the backyard grill, wielding a rake like a weapon. She charged out of frame full-speed and slammed it into the wooden trellis with a crack that made half the cast jump.

She leaned into camera view, breathless, feral-eyed.

“Watch your head, man.”

_______

JD clutched the armrest like it was a seatbelt. “SHE BROKE THE TRELLIS FOR THE BIT?!”

“She’s gonna invoice you,” Chase wheezed.

Rudy was flat on his back, one hand in the air. “I’m ascending. Goodbye.”

Drew dropped his head into his hands, wheezing through laughter. “She told me she was out watering tomatoes that day.”

“Lies,” Carlacia declared. “She was watering vengeance.”

_______

The next clip was in their living room, Y/N perched at the edge of the couch, fisting crumpled cash, eyes wide. She stood abruptly, raked a hand through her hair, and spun in a tight frustrated circle.

“I know about a billion more things about business than she does!”

She kicked over a throw pillow.

“What is… what is this?!”

She threw her arms toward the ceiling like it had answers.

From off-screen—clearly pulled from the show—a voice cut in:

“We’re the black sheep. Get used to it, Rafe.”

Y/N froze. Turned. Looked betrayed. Then face-planted onto the couch with a dramatic groan, limbs dead-weight.

_______

“She’s got your rage pacing,” Madison whispered, eyes wide. “Like frame-for-frame.”

“She’s better at being Rafe than you,” JD said, pointing straight at Drew.

Drew scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “She didn’t even tell me she was filming this.”

“She didn’t need to,” Carlacia said. “It’s in her blood.”

_______

For the final scene the bathroom lighting was dim, Y/N sat on the edge of the tub, robe slipping off one shoulder, eyeliner smudged just enough to scream emotional turmoil. A bead of water trailed down her temple.

Her voice cracked.

“I hit her.”

Ward’s voice echoed, clipped from the show:

“What?”

Y/N turned to the camera, face blank.

“But I don’t care that I did.”

A beat.

“That’s your sister.”

She shrugged—one-shoulder, unbothered—and reached for something on the counter.

A juice box.

She punctured the straw with deadly precision and took the loudest sip any of them had ever heard.

_______

Madelyn collapsed sideways into Madison’s lap. “NOOOO.”

“THE JUICE BOX?!” Rudy shrieked from the floor.

“WHERE DID SHE EVEN GET THAT?!” Carlacia howled.

“This is Oscar-worthy,” JD yelled. “THE DRAMA. THE DETAILS!”

Drew just stared at the screen—mouth parted, eyebrows raised, laugh caught somewhere in his chest. And then it came.

A real, full-body laugh. The kind that forced him forward, face flushed, eyes shining. He looked stunned. Wrecked. In awe.

“She’s insane,” he said finally, wiping his face. “And I love her so much it’s actually terrifying.”

“She won the whole thing,” Madison grinned. “No one’s topping that.”

“She is Rafe now,” JD declared solemnly.

Drew gave a helpless shrug, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess I’m out of a job.”

The screen faded to black.

The cast was still breathless, collapsed into each other, half-sobbing from laughter.

And Drew?

He just shook his head, the grin still stuck on his face like it had no intention of leaving.

“She’s gonna love this,” he muttered, already imagining her face when she watched this footage. Already planning the popcorn. Already bracing for round two.

Because if anyone was about to be dragged into another parody?

Yeah. It was definitely him.