#sorry that it takes me so long to respond to replies

[coco-loco-nut]

Poster Child

Pairing: Charles x Reader

Summary: you love your brother, but not when you are with another guy

masterlist requests open

——————————

“Wanna get out of here?” the guy you’ve dedicated your night to flirting with finally asks. You finish your drink with a smirk.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you grab your bag off the back of your chair, allowing the blond man to take your free hand and lead you out of the bar. Your giggles fill the air of the busy Monaco streets as he whispers in your ear, compliments and dirty thoughts to excite you for the night ahead.

The taxi arrives quickly. You sit in the back, bodies pressed against each other. He presses soft kisses to your neck, cheek, and lips as his hands start to wander. The ride is soon over as you arrive at his apartment building.

“Do you have roommates?” you ask curiously as you enter the building.

“No, I have a studio. It’s a really nice place,” you nod as he speaks, observing the building and trying not to judge at its run down state. The door creaks as he pushes it open.

The apartment is a bit messy, trash bin close to full with takeout containers. You sit down on the couch, ignoring the slight mess as you are laid back. The couch is slightly lumpy, only uncomfortable if you stay for too long.

When he starts tugging at your top, you pull away, eyes darkened with desire.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” he asks, voice husky. He picks you up, allowing your legs to wrap around him as he carries you into his bedroom. You are gently laid onto your back on the bed. His kisses move from your mouth to your neck and you open your eyes a little bit to watch and look around.

It’s fairly standard for single men, posters of footballers, memorabilia, and a poster of Charles Leclerc. Your eyes widen, mood immediately soured as you close your eyes again.

Ignore it, it’s not a big deal, he clearly doesn’t know who you are. You try to refocus, get back in the mood. Your hookup starts to travel lower and your eyes fly wide open again.

“I can’t do it, I’m so sorry,” you quickly sit up, rushing out to the couch to grab your phone and purse. You lean against the wall in the hallway, staring at your phone. Ubers are increasingly expensive, and there are none available at the moment. Swiping out of the app, your finger hovers over the button you really don’t want to press.

The door knob beside you wiggles and you dart down the poorly lit hallway, racing down the stairs to leave the building. You press the button and after two rings your savior picks up.

“Charles, can you pick me up?” you sound like you are about to either laugh or cry and you feel like it too, standing on the streets of Monaco.

“Are you okay?” his voice is groggy, you can picture him checking the time, quietly telling Alexandra to go back yo sleep before taking the call. “Never mind, I’ll be there in five minutes,”

“But you are across the city,” you reply, confused as you hear the door click behind Charles.

“I’m a professional race car driver, I could be there in two if I needed to,” Charles says before hanging up. You sit on the concrete, back against the wall of the building.

Just as he said, you hear the roar of the Ferrari as it approaches right on time.

“Did he have a small dick?” Charles asks as soon as you sit down. You can’t help but to laugh, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Worse,” you tell him, feeling the car pull away.

“Visible STD?”

“A poster of you,” you tell him. Charles almost slams on the breaks.

“Oh, I thought you loved me? Your favorite older brother,” he jokes.

“I don’t want poster you watching me. It felt weird,” you sink into the seat.

“He should love me, that’s a green flag,” Charles continues his teasing, not really knowing how to respond properly.

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you to his guest room.

“No poster here, I promise. Get some sleep,” Charles gives you a quick squeeze before disappearing into his own room.

You wake up to the smell of coffee and a duffle bag beside the bed. Curiously you open it up, finding a change of clothes and some toiletries. You take it into the bathroom, meeting to change and freshen up before leaving the guest room.

“Look who finally woke up,” you perk up at Lorenzo’s voice.

“Charles said you might need a sibling day, something about a traumatic night?” Arthur’s eyes sparkle. They know.

“How could I have known,” you groan, flopping onto the couch beside Lorenzo. At least he won’t tease you, he always protects you from Charles and Arthur.

“Maybe you should start background checking guys,” Lorenzo jokingly suggests.

“Alright, that’s enough. You aren’t helping,” Charles walks in, bringing you a cup of coffee. “Thank you for bringing clothes,” Charles tells Arthur who stares longingly at the coffee.

“Go get your own,” you tell Arthur, sipping the smooth roast.

“Your twin telepathy is unreal,” Lorenzo shakes his head as Arthur walks away to get coffee.

“Alright, comfort movie first then retail therapy,” Charles sits beside you, sandwiching you between him and Enzo.

“Maybe I should make bad choices more often,”

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: call it the magic of christmas

pairing: jameson hawthorne x avery grambs

synopsis: avery has to finish her work before her deadline (christmas day) but she’s not exactly being kind to herself about it… luckily she happens to have a hawthorne of a boyfriend who knows what to do

warnings:

a/n: dedicated to @wish-i-were-heather, merry christmas ❤️🤍💚🎄

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses

Avery was on the brink tearing her hair out over this set of paperwork, the deadline was midnight and it was currently an hour until the clock struck that deadly hour. She thought she’d managed her time well, she’d thought she’d been prepared but everything had to come crashing down on Christmas Eve, of course.

“Heiress?” Jameson called, walking into the room. His eyebrows pinched in concern upon seeing Avery still at her desk, frantically signing and scribbling on pieces of paper, her impossible to do list not even half done.

“Give me half and hour,” she responded, knowing what he’s say before even said it. She didn’t even take her eyes off of the paper, “tops.”

“It’s Christmas, Ave,” he said gently, the green of his eyes whirring into a sea of worry.

“I have a paper to finish,” she shook her head sharply, her laser focus almost admirable, “and it’s not Christmas yet.”

“Put it down, heiress,” Jameson told her, leaning on her desk.

Avery still hadn’t looked up and continued to fill in one of the many blank boxes still left on the page, “it needs to be in by tomorrow,” she explained, a panic he wasn’t too used to hearing creeping up in the back of her throat.

“Put it down,” he repeated immediately.

This wasn’t Avery. Whatever this was, it was making her stressed and frustrated and anxious and Jameson couldn’t bear it. How dare anything make her feel that way.

“No,” she replied bluntly, before cursing her pen for running out.

“Are you even going to look at me or am I going to have to take my shirt off?” Jameson deadpanned, staring at her intently to see if she would even minority react to anything he was trying.

“I’m concentrating Jameson,” she snapped, ignoring the last comment as tempting as the offer was.

“Fine,” he sighed, “but you asked for this.”

Smoothly Jameson shed his shirt, tossing it behind him, exposing his toned upper body and scarred chest. He stood there, a Hawthorne smirk plastered on his lips. He played a betting game in his head: how long would Avery be able resist his little charade for?

“I’m not looking,” she sang, as if reading his mind.

His grin only widened, “but you want to.”

“Nope,” she said, over enunciating the ‘p’ so it popped as her eyes moved from left to right at lightning speed to skim the text in front of her.

“I can see you trying to sneak a glance,” Jameson smiled, observing her eyes lingering a little longer on the left side where he stood, each time she read.

“I’m trying to finish my work,” Avery scoffed, pushing a loose stand of her hair out of her face.

“Which you don’t need to be doing,” he said.

“Yes I do,” she replied, an uneven bitterness in her tone, “some of us have a sense of responsibility.”

As soon as the words left her lips she regretted them. She looked up to meet him eyes, guilt rippling across her features.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean that,” she rushed, pausing what she was doing.

“You’re stressed Avery,” Jameson told her softly, taking her face into the warm palms of his hands, “take a break.”

She shook her head and turned away, “I don’t need a break.”

“Are you really going to make me sing Hamilton shirtless now,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, “because if that will get you away I will.”

“I’m sure you could get Xander to duet with you,” she shrugged lightly.

He scrunched up his face, “he always steals the good bits.”

“Look,” Avery exhaled, “as much as I’d love to leave all of this, I can’t afford to, the deadline is tonight. Like tonight, tonight.”

“I get that,” he nodded gently, “really, believe me, I do, but this isn’t good for you.”

“I told you,” she said, “thirty more minutes, tops.”

“Who were you trying to convince there, you or me,” he asked with a witty smile.

“Shut up, you,” Avery grinned with a dopey love struck look in her eyes, “thirty minutes and I’m all yours.”

Jameson wiggled his eyebrows, “I like the sound of that.”

“You’re shameless,” she shook her head, laughing slightly.

“What can I say,” he shrugged, “I’m a Hawthorne.”

“That you are,” she murmured with a small smile, gazing up at him, “you’re distracting me now! You sly little-“

“Sorry, I’m going I’m going,” he said quickly, raising his hands above his head. Jameson began to walk out of the room when suddenly he spun on his heel and walked back, “but one thing before I leave…”

She hummed a response, too consumed back in her work to look back up again.

“Goodbye kiss?”

Avery sighed, putting her pen down, “I’m going to see you in thirty minutes.”

“Thirty whole minutes!” Jameson groaned, “you might as well just sacrifice me to the devil and let me boil in hell.”

“Well isn’t that tempting,” she said, standing up slowly and taking a few steps towards him, until her arms were around his neck and their faces were almost touching, “but I sort of want my Christmas present tomorrow so I guess I’ll keep you around.”

“Glad to know you’re still deeply in love with me, heiress,” Jameson smiled softly, all doe-eyed, with a sweet sarcasm.

“Who says I ever was,” Avery teased him, her fingertip drawing a spiral on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his back.

He forged a wince at her comment, “you wound me.”

“Shame,” she whispered, slowly pressing her lips onto his.

Jameson melted into her, trailing his hands up her body and deep into her hair. He began to kiss her deeper, more hungrily and she almost immediately mirrored him. The taste, the feeling, the adrenaline. It was perfect, it was all perfect. They fell into a rhythm as they often did of kissing and breathing, lost in the taste of each other, their own overwhelming love and the scared moment.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, finishing it off, before swiftly knocking her off of her feet and throwing her over his shoulder. Before she even had time to process it Avery was already there.

She yelped, flailing around a little, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing much,” he shrugged, beginning to make his way towards the exit.

“Jameson,” she growled, “put me down.”

“Too late for that heiress,” he sighed, “you fell for my trap.”

“Trap?”

“Well with my naturally seductive qualities, great body and irresistible lips I managed to lure you right where I wanted you to throw you over my shoulder to remove you from this,” he explained as if it were some intricately designed plot that mad been created by a mastermind.

“So you manipulated me to stop me from working,” Avery deadpanned, feeling the blood rushing to her head and she hung limp upside down.

“You say manipulated, I say kindly wooed away from mentally damaging activities,” he replied, leaving the room completely.

“Mental damaging?” she scoffed, “look Jamie, I love you but this isn’t funny, I’ve got serious work I need to do, it’s important.”

“Not as important as you,” he said softly.

“I appreciate your concern but I’m fine,” she replied, a little more firmness to her tone.

“You’ve been at the desk for eight hours,” he exclaimed “even Grayson wouldn’t be sane after that.”

Avery groaned, beginning to kick her legs in attempts to free herself, “Jameson I swear to you-“

“Come on heiress,” Jameson only laughed, “where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“Up my WOAH-“

Before she could finish her sentence Jameson had began to take off down the corridor, running. Avery squealed at the sudden change in pace, being shaken and upside down. Her head began to pound as she continued to try and free herself from his grasp.

“Put me down!”

“No can do!”

No matter how hard she tried, his hands were too firmly held onto her waist for her to even remotely wriggle her way out of them, much to her frustration.

“When I get down I am going to shave your head,” she yelled, “in your sleep!”

Jameson came to an abrupt halt, turning a little white.

“You wouldn’t,” he asked, in barely a whisper.

“I’ve already got the razor picked out,” Avery smirked as Xander walked around the corner.

He paused slowly taking in the scene, furrowed brows and inquisitive eyes.

“Shirtless brother,” he pointed to Jameson, “annoyed girlfriend over his shoulder. Nope, not gonna ask.”

“Xander! Wait!” she shouted after him.

He turned and came back.

“I need your help,” she said, gesturing to her situation.

“I think you’re in safe hands,” Xander replied, jerking his head towards Jameson’s arms wrapped around her leg, holding her into place.

“No, not safe hands,” she disagreed, “I want to get down but Jameson’s stubborn as it gets and he’s not letting me.”

“You’re up there for a good reason,” Jameson called.

“Shhhh you are not part of this conversation,” she replied smacking his back, “please help me Xand, I’ll do anything.”

Xander looked intrigued, his eyes sparkled at the word ‘anything’. Still he pondered the sentence for a long while before answering.

“You know, maybe Jameson is right,” he said slowly.

“Not you too!” she groaned letting her head fall limp, almost doll life.

“Don’t ask any of them for help,” Jameson smiled, “I’ve got them all onside.”

Xander looked at her apologetically, “we conducted mission: get-Avery-out-of-the-office as a team and we’re not going back on it now, sorry.”

“Xander, please,” she begged, “you gotta help me out here.”

He sighed, looking at her and from his expression she knew she was practically done for unless…

“You owe me still,” Avery said, she didn’t like holding things over people, especially not people that she loved but she really needed to finish her work.

Xander eyes widen, adding the the hold of guilt that was being drilled in Avery’s chest, “you said you wouldn’t bring that up!”

“Desperate times calls for desperate measures,” she winced, “sorry Xand.”

“If I do help and get you down…” he said slowly, “…will you stop working.”

“Yes,” she responded almost instantly, the lie rolling off of her tongue simply.

“Pinky swear,” Xander replied, extending his pinky finger towards the upside down Avery.

She sighed, giving him an apologetic look. She couldn’t break a pinky promise, so she wouldn’t make one she couldn’t keep.

“You just lied blatantly to my face,” Xander said dryly.

“Look I’m sorry Xand,” she rushed, “but this thing here is being impossible, it’s one page I have to finish and then I’m done.”

He shook his head, clutching his chest where his heart was, “take her away Jamie.”

“Xand no!” she yelled, kicking her legs.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” he said, shaking his head slowly, walking im the opposite direction from Jameson. Her one hope of escape. Gone.

Jameson laughed and carried on walking.

“This is not funny Jameson,” she groaned, burying her face into his back.

“I’m quite amused,” he replied.

“Well I’m glad one of us is having a good time,” she snapped, the sharpness in her voice foreign to him.

Slowly and carefully, he set her down on the floor, making sure to keep her arms to support her incase she got dizzy from being upside down for so long.

“I’m really stressed about this,” she told him, unwanted tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, “and it’s like you don’t get it, I don’t think you understand how I feel right now I’m so overwhelmed and-“

“It’s done,” Jameson interrupted her.

“What?”

“Alisa finalised everything exactly as you wanted it,” he explained cooly.

Her eyebrows pinched together as she titled her head to the side, “I don’t understand.”

“You needed to take a break,” he shrugged, “I got it sorted.”

“You’re joking,” she laughed, “right?”

“Call it the magic of Christmas,” he winked, brushing a chunk of hair away from her face to tuck in behind her ear.

“You are a meddler,” she said, trying to suppress her grin and failing.

He could only beam back, “you chose to date me.”

She smiled, staring at him for a moment. What did she do to get so lucky? To be able to look into those eyes every day, taste those lips, know every inch of that body. She did choose him, she knew as much, but she bloody knew why.

Still, Avery folded her arms over her chest and scrunched her nose up, “I’m still mad at you by the way.”

“Mad enough at me to have a heated make out session?” Jameson asked, with a suggestive glance towards the shut bedroom door.

“That’s a stretch,” Avery replied.

“Okay,” he shrugged, masking his disappointment, “what about a kiss then?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, the sound a buzz in the back of her throat, “let me think.”

“I promise not to throw you over my shoulder,” he winked, making her laugh.

Slowly she took his face in her hands and kissed his nose first, making him chuckle. Then she closed her eyes and savoured his lips. So delicate, so natural, so surreal. The clock struck twelve, the chimes boomed across the house.

“Merry Christmas, Heiress,” he whispered against her lips.

“Merry Christmas Jameson.”

[pinkshortbread]

🌺 Daisuke X Reader 🌺

WARNING : NSFW ; cunniligus.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY MOTHER-TONGUE !

Daisuke is trans, Reader is gender neutral.

This happens before the crash.

[Wanna play ?]

You and Daisuke, you both have been keeping your relationship a secret on the Tulpar : Professionalism issues. The company can not handle that.

However, it wasn't a problem for the employees to sleep or stay in each others quarters, which is quite questionnable but you couldn't care less.

Right now, you were with Daisuke, both laying onto his bed. Your head on his chest, one of his arms around you. Your eyes on his game screen.

Lost in your thoughs. Some music played with his bluetooth speaker he managed to bring onto the ship.

Daisuke was playing with his GameBoy, you see his fingers doing the most confusable manipulations and yet... you were bored.

Not bored of him, bored of the whole context.

6 fellows, alone in the Universe.

2 young adults, keeping their situation as most discreet as possible.

You were both seen as close friends, friends who always spent their free-time together. That's what two young adults do, right ?

Shit, and you started getting horny.

Hhh...

"Babe ?" Daisuke called you, that lovable nickname he decided to gave you the first time you decided officialise your bond together.

"Ah, sorry. Yeah ?" You respond to him, your cheeks were close to flush. Your thoughs were suddenly cut off by his voice.

"You okay ?"

You look down at his hands, he defeated the boss, the little screen glowing his victory.

"A bit bored. I'm okay, don't worry." You looked up at him, he looked back down at you. A cute smile curled on his lips.

"Wanna play ?" He said, almost handing you his GameBoy to your face.

"No thanks Dai. I was thinking about..." You take the GameBoy out of his hands, placing the game console onto the bed table. "I was thinking about you."

"About me ? Yeah, I do that too sometimes, I always think about you-"

"No you idiot." You giggled and pressed a kiss to his lips, bringing your body close to his, almost hovering him. "I was thinking about...

...

...

...

Can I eat you ?"

"Right now ?" Daisuke asked, brushing his nose against yours.

You reply to his gesture by doing the same. "Yeah..."

"Horny, huh ?" He smirked close to your face, wetting his lips by reflex. "Yeah, why not Boo..." Daisuke nodded.

Your face flushed, you look down to your reward as you placed your fingers onto the hem of his pants.

He rose his hips so you can easily slide off the piece of fabric, you gulped, doing it so.

You licked your lips as you threw his pants across the room. You guided your hands to part his legs.

He soaked already his boxers. His half-lidded eyes locked onto yours.

He is panting already.

"Dude, do I have this effect on you ?" You say, pressing your index finger onto the soaked spot. You raise an eyebrow playfully.

He hisses in bliss.

"Shit..." Daisuke groaned out.

"I guess I do. Mh..." You hum in confidence, pushing your finger to create some sort of friction. Daisuke let out a long pretty whine at the action. You smile at his reaction.

"Babe, you're unfair, please-"

You didn't even let him finish his sentence that you snatched off his boxers just to see his glistening pussy.

"Arf... I missed that, you're so handsome... Holy shit." You manage to say between your sighs, bringing your face close to his intimacy.

Your arms around his legs, your hands travelling to his tummy, your fingers brushing his sides.

Daisuke squirms to your touch.

Your breathing brushed his needy folds, his body responds by a twitch. His back already arched.

And then, your nose met his clitoris, your mouth reached his sticky slit. Daisuke brought his fingers to your hair, making the same mess as he is already.

You savoured him like he was your last meal, so sweet and acid at the same time. All around your mouth it was covered by your saliva and his juices, and you took him like a piece of meat.

You sniffed his whole scent, he smells so good and yet you were almost ashamed of it but-

You needed him, you need him close, close to you, you needed him.

Your thoughs started to drift off but your body continued to move on his own, your fingers looking to grip onto his shaky hips.

You hold onto him and Daisuke holds onto you.

"Baby, baby, bab- BABYY- AH-"

The tip of your tongue teases his entrance, his eyes widened at you. Everything felt like he was about to scream your name at any moment just with your tongue.

Your thumb settled down onto his buddle of nerve, doing gentle but slow motions on it. And it was pleasurably painful to him.

As you managed to enter your tongue into his pussy, Daisuke felt like he could pull your hair but he decided to slap his hands onto his mouth to muffle his could-be-so-loud moans.

The Devil on your shoulder sang to you they wished they could hear them but the Angel stayed focused : you guys needed to be quiet.

Aaah yeah.

You missed your games together. ❤️

[alwayssassydreamer]

Fire Up The Night

A/N: usually i don't write for Marco but this was a gift for a friend (I don’t remember if you wanted me to tag you or stay "anonymous" 😅) actually meant to be posted on christmas but i f'd up sorry so here's your belated gift

Plot: during a sparring session with marco things take a heated turn

Warnings: smut, nsfw, p in v (implied), MDNI

Characters: Marco x F!Reader

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the training deck, the energy between you and Marco shifted.

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, fueling your movements as you danced around him.

This time, however, there was no holding back. You were done playing it safe; it was time to take your game to the next level.

With a fierce determination, you feigned to the left, then spun around, aiming for his ribs. Marco anticipated the move and sidestepped effortlessly, but you were quick, pivoting to regain your balance and lunging at him again, your sword gleaming in the fading light.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a hint of challenge in his voice. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to catch me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you charged at him, forcing him to parry your blows with renewed vigor. Each strike was heavier, fueled by the desire to break through his defenses—not just in the sparring match but in the tension that simmered beneath the surface.

You could see it in his eyes—he was enjoying this just as much as you were, relishing the challenge and the way you pushed him to his limits.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you slipped past his guard, maneuvering your body against his.

“Let’s see how well you handle this,” you teased, leaning in closer, your lips nearly brushing against his cheek as you pressed your body against him.

Marco’s breath hitched for a moment, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly morphed into something darker—something primal.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a challenge.

“I know,” you replied, your tone sultry and daring. “But a little danger makes things more......interesting.”

With that, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the heat radiating between your bodies.

Before he could react, you pressed your lips against his with a fiery passion that ignited the air around you. The kiss was bold and demanding, and Marco responded immediately, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

But this time, he was no longer just reacting. He took control, pushing you back against the wooden training post, pinning you there with a heat that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours with a fierce urgency, a mix of desire and raw power that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his grip making you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated. The kiss became more frantic, more desperate, as you lost yourselves in each other, the boundary between rivalry and something deeper blurring with every passing moment.

As you broke away, panting, your foreheads resting against each other, you could see the desire swirling in his eyes—a hunger that matched your own.

“You’re not afraid to get rough, are you?” he asked, his breath mingling with yours, hot and intoxicating.

“Never,” you shot back, a playful challenge lacing your voice. "Are you?”

He grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart race.

“Oh, I think I can manage.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrist again, his grip firm as he twisted you around, forcing you to face the post with your hands pinned above your head.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up this little game of yours,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

A thrill shot through you as you leaned into the pressure, feeling both restrained and excited.

“You think you can intimidate me?” you taunted, your voice low and sultry. “I’ll show you how resilient I am.”

With a swift movement, Marco released one of your wrists, giving you just enough freedom to turn slightly, your bodies brushing together in a tantalizing way. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power he exuded sending another wave of desire crashing over you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him again.

“But you’ll need to be careful. You don’t want to get burned.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours once more, this time with a fierce passion that left no room for doubt. The kiss deepened, turning more demanding, filled with urgency and a wildness that matched the chaos brewing between you

Each kiss sent another wave of excitement through your body, a thrilling mix of pleasure and urgency.

Marco’s lips were like a fever, igniting every nerve ending as he deepened the kiss, pulling you further into this whirlwind of desire.

Then, as if sensing the tension escalating, Marco decided to turn it up a notch.

His hand slid under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin with a careful yet possessive touch that made your breath hitch. You gasped into his mouth, feeling his warmth seep into your very core.

The sensation of his fingertips exploring your waist was electric, setting your skin alight in a way you’d never experienced before.You moved your hands instinctively, trailing them along his firm chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. The heat radiating from him only intensified the thrill coursing through your veins.

It was thrilling to explore this side of him, and you relished the way he reacted to your every touch.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” Marco breathed against your lips, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and urgency.

His fingers continued their journey, tracing delicate patterns along your sides, igniting every inch of your skin where he touched.

"Maybe I should be saying the same about you,” you replied, your tone teasing as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his neck. The taste of him lingered in your mouth, and the raw desire swirling between you was palpable.

He tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer as he tilted his head to give you better access. You kissed along the line of his jaw, feeling the hard contours of his body pressed against yours, making it hard to think straight.

The urgency of the moment made your heart race, and as Marco’s hand slid higher under your shirt, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. The sound fueled him further, and he turned to press you against the wooden wall again, his body pinning you in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and powerful.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” he asked, a challenge lacing his voice as his gaze locked onto yours. The intensity of his expression sent shivers down your spine, the playful game now teetering on the edge of something much more profound.

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge,” you shot back, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was hungry, filled with a passion that had been building between you from the very start.

As you pulled away momentarily to catch your breath, Marco’s fingers lingered just under your ribs, teasingly brushing against your skin.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” he warned, his voice low and husky, filled with a mixture of desire and something more protective.

“And I’m not afraid to get burned,” you replied, your confidence surging.

You could see the flicker of approval in his eyes, the way his smile hinted at both amusement and admiration.

“Are you really sure about this?” Marco murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your lips

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't,” you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. You could feel the warmth pooling in your core, igniting every nerve ending as you surrendered to the moment. With a determined glint in your eyes, you pulled him closer.

Every touch felt electric, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, craving more of the heat he radiated.

“I want to see how far we can take this,” you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and invitation. There was something intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Marco’s eyes darkened with desire, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Careful what you wish for,” he replied, his tone teasing yet serious.

His hands moved again, this time sliding lower, finding the hem of your shirt and pushing it up, revealing more of your skin. The cool air sent goosebumps racing across your body, heightening your awareness of every sensation.

“I could easily take you right here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

The heat in his gaze made your heart race, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. You raised an eyebrow, feeling bold.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you teased, your voice laced with challenge.

The air crackled with tension, and Marco’s expression shifted from playful to serious, the weight of your words sinking in.

“You really want that?” he asked, his tone suddenly more intense.

“Maybe I do,” you replied biting your lip, the adrenaline coursing through you making you feel invincible

His gaze bore into yours, a mixture of desire and something deeper reflected in those vibrant eyes.

“Then let’s make it a night to remember,” he declared, his voice steady with conviction.

He led you to a quiet corner, where the stars twinkled above and the sound of the ocean filled the air. The moonlight spilled over the deck, casting soft shadows that danced around you.

he closed the space between you, capturing your lips again in a kiss that was both hungry and tender. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him. It was a dance of passion, an exploration of the uncharted territory between you.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any more heated, Marco broke the kiss and trailed his lips down your neck, sending waves of sensation rippling through you.

“You feel amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and intoxicating. The way he spoke, filled with desire, made your heart race even faster.

“Marco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head back, granting him better access.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you found yourself surrendering to the pleasure he was invoking within you.

Suddenly, he paused, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I could get used to this,” he teased, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks

You began to explore, your hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the taut muscles as you pushed his shirt off. Marco watched you intently, a mixture of admiration and desire in his gaze as you confidently explored this new dynamic between you.

But he wasn’t about to let you have all the fun. With a swift motion, he turned the tables again, gripping your waist and lifting you effortlessly, placing you against the railing.

Your heart racing as you kissed him again.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel his hands tightening around your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the strength he possessed. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer as the world around you faded into insignificance.

In a single motion, he lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your skin to the cool night air, contrasting with the heat building between you. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability heightening your desire for him.

He took a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in the sight before him.

“You’re breathtaking,” he breathed, his voice thick with admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a mix of pride and excitement swelling within you.

“Show me how breathtaking I am,” you urged, your voice steady and filled with anticipation.

With that, Marco’s lips descended on you again, exploring every inch of your skin, every curve, every secret that made you who you were. His hands roamed, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat building between you, a hunger that was all-consuming. Each kiss, each caress only fueled the fire until you thought you might explode with desire. The night air was thick with tension as you both surrendered to the moment, losing yourselves in the sensations that enveloped you

As you explored each other’s bodies, Marco’s touch was both gentle and commanding, igniting a fire within you that demanded to be fed

The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of salt from the sea and something uniquely him. The heat of your bodies intertwined, and every kiss ignited sparks of electricity that made your skin tingle.

His hands found their way back to your waist, fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants with a confidence that made your heart race. You gasped as he slipped them down, leaving you vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze filled with lust.

You felt a thrill run through you at his words, a blend of shyness and confidence as you pulled him closer, pressing your body against his

With a grin, Marco wasted no time in lifting you off the ground, cradling you against him as he found a more comfortable place and position. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he maneuvered you with ease, pressing you against the soft, worn wood of the deck.

He took a moment to admire you again, his eyes roaming hungrily over your exposed skin, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow around you.

“You’re a temptation I never knew I needed,” he said, his voice low and filled with intensity.

The moments became a blur of heat and passion, the sounds of the ocean the only witness to your intimacy. With each caress and kiss, you felt the barrier between you dissolve, leaving nothing but the raw, unfiltered connection that sparked between you.

As the intensity grew, Marco’s kisses traveled down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers through your body. He paused to nibble at your collarbone before moving to your nipples, drawing a gasp from you, and you could feel the tension building within you, a throbbing need that only he could satiate.

“Marco,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Please.”

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice teasing.

"I want you" you whined

With a low chuckle, he obliged, his lips finding yours again as he shifted your bodies, positioning you just right. The night air caressed your skin, contrasting the heat radiating from both of you, and every touch, every kiss felt electric.

As the intensity escalated, Marco’s movements became more urgent, and you could feel the tension between you building to a near-breaking point. He kissed you deeply, capturing your breath as his hands began to roam lower, teasing you with tantalizing touches that made your heart race.

With a swift movement, he slipped your panties aside, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze and touch. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability mixing with the hunger burning inside you.

Marco took his time, exploring every inch of you, his fingers skillfully teasing your clit, coaxing soft moans from your lips.

“Marco, please,” you begged, the urgency in your voice growing more pronounced as the waves of pleasure built within you.

He grinned, his eyes dark with desire.

“Patience,” he whispered, leaning down to place soft kisses along your thighs as one hand played with your nipples the other circling your clit driving you to the brink of madness.

You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your body craving more as he worked his magic, but just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away, leaving you gasping for breath.

“Marco!” you cried out, frustration lacing your voice.

“Just a little longer,” he teased, his smile infuriatingly charming. “I want you to remember this.”

With that, he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he brought you back to the heights of ecstasy. As the kiss deepened, you felt him aligning himself against you, his body pressing closer, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of desire radiating from him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with promise. You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the world around you disappear once again.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips as he positioned himself against you.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he entered you, and you gasped at the sensation, the initial stretch igniting another wave of pleasure that crashed over you.

Your breath coming in shallow gasps as the heat within you grew.

Marco began to move, slowly at first, as if savoring every moment. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. You could feel the tension building again, the heat rising between you as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

The world outside faded completely, leaving only the sound of the ocean and your shared breaths. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intimacy between you deepening with every moment as you let out a loud moan.

Marco responded with a low growl, his pace quickening as he pushed you closer to the edge. The tension built to an unbearable level, and you felt yourself on the brink of madness, a wave of ecstasy threatening to pull you under.

“Marco!” you cried out, your voice rising in pitch as pleasure coursed through you, overwhelming your senses.

With a final thrust, the world exploded around you, and you surrendered to the ecstasy that enveloped you, your body arching against his as you cried out his name, lost in the sensation and not caring if anyone could hear you.

Marco followed soon after, his release washing over him in waves as he pressed his body against yours, their connection deepening as the two of you rode the high together.

In the aftermath, as the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourself wrapped in Marco’s arms, both of you breathless and entwined. The world felt both endless and timeless, a perfect moment suspended between you.

“Wow,” you breathed, still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired.

Marco chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that either.”

You smiled, a mix of satisfaction and mischief dancing in your gaze. “Neither did I. But it was worth it.”

[daryltwdixon]

If I Could Give You the Moon, I'd Give You the Moon

I'm obsessed with this angst I've created. Part II of Know It's For the Better

Based on Phoebe Bridgers' Moon Song

Daryl stumbles slightly as you guide him along the quiet streets, his arm draped heavily over your shoulders. He’s drunk—more than you’ve ever seen him—and his weight shifts unpredictably as he leans too far to one side, forcing you to readjust.

“Y’don’t gotta hold me like I’m some old man,” he slurs, his words tumbling together in a low drawl. “Still got my legs, ya know.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the pavement you almost kissed back there,” you reply, your tone light but strained as you try to keep him steady.

He barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, then mutters, “Ain’t my fault these damn streets’re crooked.”

“They’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see it.

He tilts his head toward you, squinting like he’s trying to focus, and grins—a real, lopsided grin that you’re not used to seeing. It’s different from his usual smirks, less guarded, and it makes your chest tighten.

“Y’look real nice tonight,” he says, his voice softer, slower. The words hang between you, catching you off guard, but before you can say anything, he adds, “Too nice t’be draggin’ my sorry ass home.”

"Weren't you the one who offered to walk me home? Now I'm carrying your 'sorry ass'," you tease, your tone light as you try to deflect from the compliment. You’re not sure if he realizes what he just said—the slip, the way he noticed how you looked.

Or at least, the first time he's ever said anything about it.

The thought makes your heart launch into your throat.

You’ve seen Daryl in all kinds of states—angry, wounded, stone-cold sober—but this version of him, loose and unguarded, is something else entirely. His walls are gone, every word spilling out without hesitation, and you can’t help but let yourself take it in, selfishly cataloging every soft laugh, every crooked grin.

When you reach your porch, he steps back, swaying a little as his arm falls from your shoulders. His hands fumble at his sides, like he’s not sure what to do with them. Then his eyes land on yours, and for a moment, the playful grin fades.

“Don't gotta always take care’a me,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost miss it.

You shake your head, offering a small smile you don’t really feel. “You already do the same for me."

He doesn’t argue, doesn’t speak. Just stares at you like you’ve said something he doesn’t know how to answer.

And then he steps closer.

His hands, rough and callused, come up to your face, cradling you with a fragile kind of care, like he’s holding water in his palms. Like he’s afraid that if he grips too tightly, you’ll slip through his fingers, yet if he lets go, he’ll lose you entirely. Every touch feels suspended, precarious, as if the moment itself might shatter if he doesn’t get it exactly right.

“You’re good,” he says suddenly, like it’s something he’s been holding onto for too long, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, “Too good.”

There's no doubt he can feel your heart thumping against your neck, the pounding having to be pushing up against his fingers where they brush the soft skin under your jaw.

"Know I shouldn't--know it's for the better that I stay far away from ya," he whispers, like he's talking more to himself as his eyes continue to search your face, "But I can't stop thinkin' of...thinkin' what it would be like..."

“Daryl—”

Then, his lips are on yours in an instant—desperate, reverent in the way they push against yours.

For a second, you’re frozen, your mind spinning too fast to make your body respond. You want to—God, you want to—but the shock keeps you locked in place. His lips are hot and firm against yours, moving with a kind of unpracticed urgency that steals your breath.

The kiss is so Daryl, everything you expected and somehow more. Clumsy, a little haphazard, but so earnest, so real, so alive. You’d never believed the romance novels you’d devoured about kisses that made sparks fly, but this… this proved them right all along. Electricity seemed to crackle between you, only for you to realize it was you humming, the vibrations of your approval thrumming softly through your joined mouths.

When his lips parted and his tongue tentatively brushed against yours, your body finally remembered how to move. Your hands slid up, grasping the solid muscle of his arms, and his whole frame shuddered under your touch.

And then he froze.

His breath hitched, his body stiffening as if something had just yanked him back to sobering reality. In an instant, he pulled away, his hands falling to his sides like they didn’t know what to do anymore.

His breath, warm and uneven, carried the faint scent of whiskey, brushing against your flushed face as his eyes met yours. Wide and uncertain, they searched your expression like he was trying to figure out what he’d just done.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice rough and low. He cleared his throat, stepping back quickly, the distance between you feeling sharper than it should. “Night.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, lips tingling, your heart racing, and no words to fill the space he’d left behind.

The next day, you find him on the porch, sitting on the edge with his crossbow resting against his knee. He’s fidgeting with a bolt, turning it over in his hands like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

When he hears your footsteps, he glances up briefly, his expression unreadable, before quickly looking back down. “Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice low.

“Morning,” you reply, stepping closer. You hesitate before sitting beside him, keeping some space between you.

The silence between you stretches for a moment, the sounds of birds in the distance filling the quiet. You try to think of what to say, but everything feels too uncertain. Like you're not sure if you should just say it outright or wait for him.

You should ask him.

The words hover in your throat, right there, but they refuse to come out. Did he remember the kiss? Did he remember the way his lips pressed against yours, clumsy but so full of something it made your chest ache? Did he remember what he whispered, his voice rough but so sure of his feelings when he confessed his unrelenting thoughts of you?

The memory burns in your chest, every word, every touch of his fingers and taste of his lips is seared into your mind. You need to know if it meant something—or if it was just the whiskey.

He breaks the silence first, letting out a short, almost nervous laugh. “Man, I was… somethin’ else last night, huh?”

“Do you remember much of it?” you ask softly, your heart picking up its pace.

You stare at him, searching his face for something—anything—that might tell you he’s lying. That he does remember. That those words weren’t just a drunken slip. But his expression is unreadable, his focus locked on the crossbow like it’s the only thing in the world.

Your throat feels tight, your hands curling into fists in your lap. “Daryl…” You pause, the words catching before they can escape. You want to ask him about the kiss, about what he said. But the fear of what he might say—or worse, what he won’t—roots you in place.

“If I, uh…” he starts, his voice softer now, “if I said or did somethin’ dumb… didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Your breath catches, and you nod quickly, forcing a brittle smile. “Right, course."

And just like that, the warmth of the sun from the morning sky feels as cold as ice, seeping into your skin and draining the last bit of life from you.

You stand abruptly, brushing your palms against your thighs to give your hands something to do. “I should get going,” you say, keeping your tone light even though your heart is still pounding.

Daryl finally looks up at you, his eyes catching yours for a brief, fleeting moment. There’s something there—uncertainty, regret, maybe even a flicker of longing—but it’s gone too quickly to be sure.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and rough. “See ya.”

You hesitate, your feet rooted to the porch even as your body screams at you to leave. The words are still there, trembling on the edge of your tongue—Did you mean it?—but you swallow them down, just like you always do.

Turning away, you step inside, letting the screen door close softly behind you. As soon as you’re out of sight, you press your back against the wall, closing your eyes as the memory of last night washes over you again.

His words replay in your mind, over and over, as if they’re branded into you. You clutch the hem of your shirt, willing yourself not to cry, even as the ache in your chest spreads like wildfire.

Because as much as you want to believe he meant it, his silence today feels like an answer.

And yet, you know you’d still give him anything—everything. If he asked, if he even hinted that he wanted it, you’d tear down the moon and hand it to him without a second thought.

But he doesn’t ask. And so you don’t offer.

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Why Her Part 3 - Matthew Sturniolo

a/n: I am so sorry it has taken me so long. But i'm back now and I hope you guys enjoy. ALSO TAKING REQUESTS!!!

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, arguing

Summary: Did matt get rid of his gf for you?

PART 2: why her part 2

PART 1: why her

A month had gone past.. you hadn't heard from matt once. Once matt left your place that day, you had filled nick in on everything and he said he'd keep an eye out for you and report back about everything he heard and saw. Nothing had come up from nick besides from a few messages saying he stayed in his room and that she hadn't been over.

But today, your phone pinged...

Nick: Im so sorry y/n.

Your heart dropped... you knew exactly what that meant. She was over. He had chosen her over you. Anger. Tears threaten to spill out of anger. You felt stupid. Stupid for having hope. Stupid for thinking you were more than pussy to fuck. Thinking that he actually wanted you.

You didn't respond to Nick's message.

A week past and you were trying your best to move on. The gym became your second home, and your friends kept you busy with outings and events, hoping to distract you from the mess Matt left behind. Still, every once in a while, you'd catch yourself scrolling through social media, seeing updates of Matt and Maria. Each picture felt like a knife in your chest, a reminder of what could’ve been.

But one evening, after a particularly grueling workout, you got another ping from Nick.

Nick: You might want to come over. You: Why? Nick: Matt broke up with her.

You froze. Your heart raced as a million thoughts filled your head. Was this real? Why now? What did he want? You typed back hesitantly.

You: And what does that have to do with me? Nick: Just come over. He won’t stop talking about you.

Against your better judgment, you threw on a hoodie and leggings, grabbed your keys, and headed to Nick’s place. The drive felt endless, and by the time you arrived, your palms were sweating. You knocked on the door, and Nick greeted you with a small smile.

"He's upstairs," Nick said, stepping aside to let you in.

You hesitated. "What exactly am I walking into?"

Nick shrugged. "A mess, probably. But I think you’ll want to hear what he has to say."

You sighed and made your way upstairs, each step heavier than the last. When you reached the door to Matt's room, you paused. The muffled sound of music played from inside, and you could hear faint shuffling. You knocked lightly.

“Come in,” Matt’s voice called out.

You opened the door to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, and the sight of his red, puffy eyes took you by surprise.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice hoarse.

"Hey," you replied, staying by the door. "Nick said you wanted to talk."

He nodded, standing up and taking a step closer to you. “I broke up with Maria.”

"I heard." You crossed your arms, trying to keep your cool. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I realized I was being an idiot," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared. Scared of ruining what we had, scared that I’d mess things up between us. But being with her made me see how much I don’t want anyone else. It’s you. It’s always been you."

Your heart clenched, but you didn’t let your guard down. "It took you this long to figure that out? After everything?"

"I know I hurt you," he said, stepping closer. "And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. But I need you to know that I’m done running. I’m done hiding how I feel."

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. "How do I know this isn’t just another phase? That you won’t change your mind again?"

He reached out, gently taking your hands in his. "Because I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I don’t want to be without you. Not for another second."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in. For the first time, they felt real. Genuine. "Matt..."

He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled over. "Just say the word, and I’m yours. No more games, no more distractions. Just us."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity. Slowly, you nodded.

"You had a month.. you left me, no words, for a month... and then i find out you picked her over me." you whispered.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "I’m not going to mess this up again. I promise."

You believed him. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could finally breathe.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

"Okay."

You stood there, his hands still cradling your face, his breath mingling with yours. The tension was unbearable, and before either of you could think twice, his lips crashed against yours. It wasn’t gentle or tentative—it was desperate, like he’d been starving for this moment. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer, his grip firm but careful.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and hoarse.

"Don’t you dare," you replied breathlessly.

That was all he needed. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping tightly as he backed you toward the bed. You let him guide you, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he lifted you effortlessly, laying you down and crawling over you, his body pressing into yours in a way that made your pulse race.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck, where he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, drawing soft gasps from you. Your hands roamed his back, slipping beneath his hoodie to feel the warmth of his skin. He sat up just long enough to yank the hoodie off, revealing his toned chest, and you couldn’t help but run your hands over him, marveling at the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, leaning back down to kiss you again, his lips hot and urgent.

"Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He didn’t need further encouragement. His hands found the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it aside. His lips trailed down your collarbone, and his hands slid behind your back to unclasp your bra, his movements practiced yet filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

As the fabric fell away, his lips found your bare skin, his tongue flicking over a hardened peak, drawing a moan from your lips. His hands wandered lower, toying with the waistband of your leggings. He looked up at you, his dark eyes searching yours for permission.

"Please," you whispered, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric down.

He discarded the leggings and your panties in one swift motion, his gaze raking over your exposed body. "You’re perfect," he said, his voice filled with awe, before leaning down to kiss a trail from your navel to your inner thighs.

His lips found your core, and the first touch of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you. He worked you expertly, his tongue circling and flicking, his lips sucking gently, drawing moan after moan from you as your hands fisted the sheets beneath you.

"Matt, oh my god," you gasped, your hips bucking against his mouth as he held you firmly in place. The coil in your stomach tightened with every movement, and it wasn’t long before you were teetering on the edge.

"Let go," he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your core. The sensation sent you over the edge, your body arching as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your cries filling the room.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips meeting yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. As he settled between your legs, you reached for the button of his jeans, fumbling in your haste to undo them.

"Slow down," he said with a soft chuckle, his voice husky as he helped you remove the last barrier between you. He rolled on a condom quickly, his gaze locked on yours as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you breathed, pulling him closer.

He pushed into you slowly, both of you gasping as he filled you completely. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, before he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending a shiver through your body.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Your nails raked down his back as you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper. The pace quickened, the sound of skin against skin mixing with your breathless moans and his guttural groans. The tension built again, the pressure mounting until it was almost unbearable.

"I’m close," you gasped, your head falling back against the pillows.

"Me too," he panted, his movements growing erratic.

With one final thrust, the two of you came undone together, your bodies trembling as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both caught your breath.

For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence filled only with the sound of your breathing. But when he finally spoke, his voice was soft and filled with certainty.

"I’m not going anywhere," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

A/N: this will probs be the last part unless someone comes up with a good plot (open to suggestions of all kinds)

LMKK WHAT YOU GUYS THINKKK

[acetier]

will you be drawing any more of torin and varre? no rush at all, but i am lowkey obsessed with them now 👀

ask and you shall receive, anon :^)

[vylad-romeaves-autism]

Dude same! I will fully admit Laurence shouldn’t have killed all those people at the wedding. I will absolutely agree that he should face repercussions for that. What I WON’T say is that Laurence is a bad person for it. Laurence is not a somehow fundamentally bad person for responding violently after being held prisoner and being forced to watch the woman he loves be forced into a marriage all while knowing he is going to die if he does not do something.

There is a huge difference between “this person did something bad because they could/they were cranky” and “this person did something bad because they were under extreme duress and didn’t have another feasible way out”, even ignoring EVERYTHING with shadow knights and all that. Saying what someone did was UNDERSTANDABLE is not the same as JUSTIFIED. Mass murder is bad! Mass murder is very very bad! But with his characterization, I fully believe that if Laurence knew of another way to get out he would have taken it.

Laurence did not choose to do that because he wanted to kill all those werewolves, because he was throwing a fit that the lady he loved was marrying another person, because he was a little upset. He did not do it because he is evil or a villain in some way. He did it because he was going to die and he likely did not see any other choice.

I could go on for ages but I’ll stop here for rn so the ask isn’t super long

EXACTLY, also extremely sorry for waiting FOREVER to respond. I needed time to be able to sit down to respond properly BECAUSE YOU GET THIS. (warning me rambling about this below beware!!!)

Laurence doesn't get a free pass from repercussions because of any reason you can think of(ie. is a shadow knight, is in love with aphmau or whatever). But he might never face them unless it is brought on by aphmau/Katelyn because even though i just finished watching MCD season 3, the werewolves shifted the blame for the mass murder/genocide onto aphmau instead of Laurence. So probably by this point unless someone was there, the blame is no longer on Laurence(at least as far as were aware since season 3 kinda got put on hiatus) so we'll never know if Laurence will face repercussions from the werewolf tribe directly.

I genuinely semi get annoyed with people that dont like laurence and this is their main reason, but are die hard aphmau defenders when imo the murder she did at skystead was kinda worse again imo. Aphmau was in no danger other then being held hostage. Lo might’ve been also threatened to be executed but I think they were just also held hostage as well, you can correct me if I’m wrong. But aphmau barely knew Lo, she imo has very little reason to murder for them. I think she was possessed by Irene as well, but I’m not sure. But even then that’s not a good excuse.

Laurence killed because he didn’t want to die, and aphmau killed because she was possessed by Irene(?????)/ wanted to stop an arranged marriage. Their a bit similar situations but still very different but you can’t defend aphmau and hate Laurence for what he did at the werewolf wedding at the same time.

[todayisafridaynight]

NO LITERALLY SGKSDHGSK ME @ YOKOYAMA RN

I know Arakawa's thing is just a flashback (similar to Kazama in K2, I guess) but since it's still a new cutscene... what are we cooking here... and what ARE we cooking with Jo...

Jo still Gets Me because Yes I Revel In His Misery And I Love His Hair but also because of how long Arakawa withheld from even writing to Ichi, let alone EVER visiting, despite how much it was killing him not to. And I imagine Jo probably encouraged him not to on top of him already feeling like he shouldn't, if Arakawa ever confided in him about some of the stuff in his letter (and. y'know. he seems to confide almost everything in him).

Like empathizing, feeling at least A Little bad, but not having anything to say except to just forget about Ichi because that's how he's always dealt with things. And Arakawa going along with it like okay :(... I guess you're right :(... (not indefinitely though. also I am fully aware I am just making shit up but Please Bear With Me Is It Not Plausible)

So for Ichi to talk to Jo just 5 years later (at most)... even if it's just for plot reasons, like if Jo has Important Info... I'm still OUGH. Especially because the only prison visitations I can even recall outside of Judgment are Kiryu seeing Kazama and Daigo seeing Kiryu (in RGGO), both father figures.

Also here is the rest of Super Salaryman! Subs are in folder; a little less convenient than being able to stream but. Y'know. It Is An Option

thinking of the period where masato's sent to america and ichi's spending his first few years in prison ALWAYS guts me, especially if we wanna accept the possibility of jo going to america as well as more likely than not

in the event jo does stay behind, that's GOTTA suck especially: even if jo himself isn't amiable with ichi, he undoubtedly knows how much arakawa cares about him. it's one thing if arakawa is holding himself back from seeing ichi, but if it's jo stepping in to stop arakawa from seeing someone he undoubtedly loves, it's just more salt in the wound (extra bonus points if at this point jo has the vague idea ichi is arakawa's kid, or at least knows arakawa treats ichi like a second son. something something 'how would jo feel if he was being kept from seeing masato' something something). especially when jo isn't even equipped to properly consolidate how arakawa would be feeling: he only knows how to rationalize the need to stay away, he doesn't know how to emotionally take care of him

alternatively- if jo is ALSO gone and it's just arakawa and his duties/himself stopping himself from seeing ichi- it's even worse. of course, he has the arakawa family to keep him company, but his own personal family's so far from him now: there isn't really anyone to comfort him the way only close family could, not when his whole family has to be away from him because of one incident

SO TRUE in that the only prison visits in rgg really are only between father figures and their children (sin shinji in 1 but he was delivering an excommunication notice alright…… we get one exception)… i WILL take the semblance of familyhood between jo and ichi like Again they'll never be as close as arakawa and ichi were but ill take the bittersweetness of it all.. its good for the heart me thinks..

OH AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SS SUBS !! anythings better than nothing in my book so i definitely appreciate the effort done to get these ♪(´▽｀)

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[prael]

Cleaning Service

Kinktember Day 2: Maid Play

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,000 Kinktember Masterlist

"Hey, babe?" You poke your head from the door of your home office. "What's with all the noise?"

Karina is hooking her head around the corner at the end of the hallway and calls back to you, "Noise? Oh, whoops! I was just sweeping the floor and dropped the brush. Sorry, sir."

"Sir?" you question under your breath as she disappears around the corner. "Whatever..." You retreat into the office once again, plopping down onto the comfy computer chair. You turn your focus back to the work documents in front of you. This lasts for all of two minutes before you hear a loud thumping noise once again from somewhere in the apartment.

You leave your chair, cross the room, and open the door, poking your head out in confusion once more. "Karina?" There is no reply. The hallway is quiet. The doors to the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are all closed. You take a step into the hall and you're greeted by the loud scraping of furniture on the floor from the living and dining room at the far end.

You advance towards the corner in apprehension, calling out again, "Karina? What's going on?"

She is half over the dining table and looking over her shoulder. "I'm still cleaning, sir. Sorry if I'm loud. I have been told that I'm too loud with everything I do." There's a lilt in her voice on those last words. Between that and her choice of dress, it is hard not to have your mind in the gutter.

"What the hell are you wearing?" You probably intended to ask that in your own head but you couldn't help but blurt it out. In reality, it's very clear what she is wearing, the better question would have been why is she wearing it, but it's too late for that.

"Sir, this is standard dress for a maid. I am the maid you hired after all. I'm here to give your big, long... hallway a long, hard, deep clean, right after I finish here in the dining room."

At this point, you haven't made eye contact for a single second of the conversation, too drawn to how her skirt is so short that not only can you see her panties, but you can see the bare skin of her lower back above them as she bends. Your gaze wanders down the backs of her tasty thighs and the gap between them.

Karina speaks again after a soft laugh at how you seem to be stunned, "Perhaps you would like to watch me work? Make sure that I don't miss a spot and get into all these... tight spaces?"

"Karina... I have work. I have to finish this paperwork..." you respond half-heartedly.

"Okay sir, if you don't want to watch, I can just keep working on my own." As you lean back on the wall by the corner, thinking, she bends forward, so that her ass rises into the air. "I promise not to make too much noise."

Working is a fool's errand, every time you hear something outside your office, you're reminded of what Karina is up to—of her ridiculous outfit. You want to watch her. There isn't enough blood in your brain for you to think clearly. And then the door opens. Brush in hand, Karina steps into the office and bends over to run the bristles across the floor in long sweeping strokes. It is impossible not to notice the slight sway in her hips.

You look away, turn, and focus back on your work. For a brief second, anyway. Her long and slightly wavy black hair hangs in front of her shoulder as she bends over to sweep, between the locks, the white low-cut lace frills of her outfit struggle to contain her chest. It's fitted so tight that they spill over, each sweep of her arms threatening to push them free.

You can't help it anymore. You steer into the skid and fuel the roleplay. "I expect every inch of this place swept, cleaned, and shined. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir, the place has to be clean, really clean. I am here to serve you to the best of my abilities."

"Clean this desk," you instruct simply, returning to your computer screen with a smug smirk, as though you are oblivious to the real intent of your words. You aren't really oblivious to it—you're relishing it. She is likely doing the same thing, of course. This is her plan. Her choice of outfit—from the black and white dress down to the choker on her neck has an intention behind it, and there's no point pretending that she isn't trying to seduce you.

She steps over next to you, duster in hand, and with exaggeratedly graceful gestures she dusts down the desk you work at. She reaches over you, to the far side, instead of walking around, this way she can push her chest right into your face. In between writing lines in an email, you check out the cleavage just inches from you. You breathe a gentle warm sigh right onto her.

Karina whines, softly, in your ear, and then speaks, "Oh master... It looks like there's some dirt I have to clean right"—Karina reaches down below the desk to grasp your trousers, over your bulge—"here. I know just what it needs. A nice spit-shine."

"I did hire you to clean everything," you smile. Karina settles down to her knees on the floor and then crawls under your desk. You spread your legs a little more to let her inside and roll your chair forward ever so slightly. You type your email; there are so many to work through, after all.

Her hands explore over your trousers until she is firmly clasping at you, massaging through your pants. "It's so dirty down here," Karina puts a feigned whine into her voice. "I'm going to have to get in there and really make it nice and clean, master."

Karina tugs at the zipper of your trousers and pulls it down, next she has your boxer shorts tugged down as well. She cradles you in her right hand, toying, feeling it grow harder in the palm of her hand. For some time, she playfully toys and strokes, squeezing and palming and groping all over. This is heaven.

"This is a really big job, sir, I do hope it's worth a nice, big tip. The maid likes to be rewarded well." You hear and feel the giggle against your inner thigh before she runs her wet, slick tongue all the way from the base of your length right up to the head. She spits onto it and collects it with her stroking hand, creating a smooth and slippery glide.

She uses her other hand to massage your balls, cupping and stroking them. She seems to work you over for so long without making a change and it has you wondering if she intends to use just her hand all the way. Her fingertips play over your sensitive cock, teasing, working you into a fever. Your fingertips brush the keyboard, working away while your cock is worked over, a display of inhuman self-control.

"Are you going to be a good maid and clean it for me, or just play with it all day?" Your hand wanders to the top of her head to rub her.

"Sorry master, I have been known to enjoy my job a little too much at times. Don't worry, I will have your dick all cleaned and polished right away." Karina doesn't waste another second, before her mouth engulfs you, sinking down onto you, wet and soft and slippery, hotter than even the warmth of her hands had been, her lips gliding down on you and wrapping snugly.

Your fingers tap wildly over the keyboard. She runs her lips and tongue all along your shaft as she moves down and then up. Every movement causes your toes to curl, and your body to arch forward in your seat. The movements cause your hands to slow over the keyboard. "Good girl."

Karina grabs and caresses your thigh in silent appreciation. It tickles more than anything, making you writhe ever so slightly, but that just sends you deeper into the warmth and wetness. It is absolute bliss, the smooth, warm feeling enveloping your entire shaft.

Her hands kneed your upper thighs as she pushes her head down all the way, before coming up to gasp for air, catching her breath, and then descending back onto you with eagerness. In a moment like this, you can feel every little thing she shoes with her mouth. She plays her tongue over your tip and you grip the keyboard as if you plan to twist it in half. You stare straight ahead blankly, knowing that if you were to look down, you would be a lost cause.

That tongue swirls and twists around the head, a feat that cannot go unacknowledged. You reach down with one hand and tangle up in her soft, silken black hair and push her harder. It's all the direction she needs as she brings the full heat and pressure of her mouth down into your lap, bobbing up and down rapidly. She is drooling all over you. Your fingers are gently caressing her as her tongue draws all sorts of sensations over your flesh.

At last, the task is done and you hit enter and fire off your email. Just in time to grip the arm of your chair. " Fuck..." you exhale under your breath. Karina hums happily as your cock hits the back of her throat, sending ripples through you, driving you ever closer. Harder she sucks, desperate to suck you clean. Your mouth goes dry, and a violent shiver courses through your body, toes and fingers tingling. "I'm going to..." you exhale as a shiver rushes over you, eyes widening, pleasure mounting, peaking.

You tremble. Then, your eyes shut and you squeeze into a fistful of hair. You let out a low, long growl and thrust your hips forward, grunting. You cum, right down the back of Karina's throat, and she works you the entire time, sucking down every drop of you into herself. This is ecstasy. You could float right up away through the roof and into the sky at any minute.

Karina bobs her head for a short time, the intense sensitivity is almost unbearable, every second, every stroke is an overload to your system, but she won't give in into you have released every drop. Finally, she pulls her mouth away. Your whole body sags in relief as Karina leans her face against your thigh. "I trust my work has satisfied?" she whispers, and all you can do is nod. "Then I should continue my other tasks."

Karina crawls out from under your desk, and as she stands, she wipes around her mouth with her fingers. Her lip gloss is smeared at the sides of her lips, her cheeks reddened and her hair messy, but she still gives you the most beautiful smile. She stands straight and neatens her dress. 

"Where was I... Ah, yes, I should dust the shelves. Sir." You roughly pull up your trousers and underwear and watch as Karina retrieves her duster and sets about her work. You look back at your screen but she's still there in the periphery, standing on her tiptoes as she dusts, the hem of her little dress not even half-covering her perky ass. "Don't let me distract you, sir, work hard. Really, really hard."

What else were you meant to do? You watch Karina as she dances around, dusting in a way that doesn't even clean anything. Everything else has become unimportant, apart from the curves of her body moving in front of you. You could sit there all day, watching her, and, well, that's probably just what Karina wants. She has effectively just said don't try to do any work, sit there and think about fucking me instead.

A few emails later she's still there, leaning to reach the lower shelves, arching her back and showing you everything. Your commitment wanes by the second, just staring, thinking and wanting, it's like torture. "How can I focus while you're just there? In front of me?" You ask her directly at last, leaving your chair, walking past and watching her over her shoulder, pressing a kiss onto the side of her neck.

"What's wrong, sir? Have I done something wrong? Please don't fire me, I'll do anything." You stand directly behind her, nose in her neck, your hands resting on her hips, before sliding down and cupping her round ass. Karina fakes a stammer in her voice, "Sir, that's... that's..."

She doesn't resist. Your hands slip between her legs and stroke her underwear. You can feel how wet she is by just grazing over her. "I didn't hire you to be pretty, slutty and wet, you know? I hired you to work."

Karina pushes back into you, grinding against your fingers, wanting more than a tease. "Sir, I thought those were the only reasons you hired me."

You grip the band of her panties, before tugging them down her thighs. Karina grips the bookshelf, pushing her ass out towards you. "You really want to earn a tip?"

"Yes sir, a big, hard, throbbing, long tip..." Karina purrs, squirming against you, trying to get some stimulation where she needs it most, pushing her wet slit back towards you.

You plant one firm palm between her shoulder blades, using a hard force to pin her against the bookcase. Your fingertips travel down between her legs and you slip one inside her, causing her to inhale sharply through clenched teeth.

You follow this with another. They slide right in with a groan. You whisper in her ear, "How can a maid clean when she is so dirty? Look at the mess you are dripping down your leg." You say that with a tinge of aggression even if you're really happy about it. "It's going to get on my floor. The very floor you should be keeping clean."

"I can mop it all up. I'm so sorry." Her voice is an irresistible plea as you massage her soaked insides. "You can even make a mess of me if you want, then I will clean it all up. You will think I'm the very best maid."

"Want to be a good maid?" You spit onto the floor by her foot. "Get down there and clean that up. Quick." Karina immediately descends and begins licking your saliva off the floor.

You lower to your own knees, right behind her, and push your trousers down again, pulling your hardened, still-wet, cock free once more. Karina's licks are frantic—even if there's nothing left on the floor, you order her to continue until it's spotless while you take hold of her hips in a firm, dominant grasp.

You guide her body as needed as you press yourself against her pussy, running your stiffened cock over her flesh. "You clean that floor well and I'll give you a very... very big tip."

"Yes sir," is a repeated series of eager replies punctuated by soft groans, as you grind your shaft against her, lubing yourself up with her sticky juices. She shudders in your grasp and quivers every time the tip of your cock brushes across her clit.

Her attention falters with each one, causing her tongue to get slower. "Keep... Cleaning. You're not done yet." You hold your cock right at her entrance, and she pushes back, a subtle attempt to get you in her, she gets as much as the first inch before you pull back out.

Karina cries out at the teasing, "Nooo, please, put it inside me, sir." She glances back at you, and there's a glaze over those hazel eyes. Desperation.

"Keep licking," you tease Karina, pushing the head of your cock into her and out, never quite fucking her but driving her crazy. "Show me how clean you can get my floor. Then I'll fuck you... Hard... You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," she pants and shivers, unable to even formulate more of a sentence.

You reach up for the back of her dress, the black fabric held together by a white string, which you easily pull free. You keep pulling and it all unwinds from her, exposing her beautiful pale skin down to her lower back. Her breathing speeds as the reality sets in, you're taking control, pulling off her clothing, baring her. You grab the dress, yanking it down her body, and she doesn't even wear a bra so those heavy tits hang freely.

You return a palm to her upper back, pinning her to the floor. You readjust your position behind her.

Now she is near-nude, pressed flush against the cold and wet floor, and you're leaning over her. You steady your grasp back on her waist, taking her firmly. "What do you want?"

"I want payment for my services, sir, in the form of a big, hot load in my slutty, little pussy," Karina moans. She feels vulnerable now, underneath you as you lean over her back.

You begin to press inside her, feeling all of that clinging wetness, hearing her little noises. Slowly at first, before increasing your intensity, driving inside of her all the way. As you do, you speak over her, "Paid in sex? Paid in cum? And where will it go after we're done?"

"I'll keep it inside me, sir, so there's no mess. You can even dump it all inside my ass, and then I will make sure it all stays there." Karina quivers under you, her back is so slender and delicate, smooth as silk. You run your fingers across her spine and see her skin ripple and her butt rise slightly upwards in response.

"Think I might just do that then..." You begin to build up a rhythm inside her, picking up momentum. She seems so delicate and weak under you, everything Karina usually is not. She's whimpering already, a sign of how desperately horny she is, how she wants to be yours. You grip the soft flesh of her ass and then give a slap with your palm, leaving a red mark.

"Thank you, sir." There's a sincere sense of submission in Karina, which you drink up. She enjoys this change of pace just as much as you do.

You slip a thumb between her cheeks and run it up and down her crack. You prod her hole, eliciting another high-pitched whine from her lips and her insides tighten around you which feels fucking amazing. You gather more of the sticky juices leaking down from her pussy, moistening your thumb further and begin pressing your finger more firmly into her, inching the first knuckle up inside her ass.

With each press inside, a squeal leaves her lips, though her words beg for more, "Give me more, sir, don't stop, it's so good... Thank you!"

Karina is reacting like crazy, it is unlike her to be this sensitive, in the moment, she doesn't allow anyone to control her, but this is everything to her now. You push deeper into her, and deeper, and with a little more resistance, all the way inside. Now you're pressed to the hilt, all the way inside Karina's pussy, and thumb-deep inside her ass at the same moment, drawing more delicious, delicate noises from her, turning your beautiful domineering woman into a helpless mess of blissful whimpers.

Keeping your length inside her, you work your thumb with a twist and a push and you let your spit spill onto her hole, slicking it and making the movement smoother. You use your spare hand to brush over the cheeks and grope. Karina trembles violently, moaning, pushing herself backwards on your digit. She loves having you deep inside her like this, both holes stuffed.

There are so many things that you could say, so many taunts, so many vulgar things, but to bask in the revelry of Karina being a messy submissive girl is to not even need to say them, her expressions, noises, reactions and the pure depravity of it are more than enough for you. This is it.

This is it.

You pull from her cunt and cock back your thumb, ready to replace it with all the pumped-up eagerness of a man possessed, and then you spread her wide. Little to stop you as you slide forward, plunging into the warm and snug grip of her ass. She cries out in response to your breach, making those cute, sexy noises all over again, as you slowly slide into her, gritting your own teeth and groaning as you bury yourself completely within the grip of Karina's asshole, every bit as intense and delightful as you knew it would be.

"God you've got the best ass," you say with a growl. "Fit to take everything I have."

Karina could say anything, sarcastic or clever, or maybe something born out of depravity, but she can barely summon up anything more than an approving murmur. The kind of sound a girl makes when her mind isn't here anymore, focused on a single, wonderful feeling—being stuffed and stretched out.

Your hands caress the supple skin of Karina's ass as you begin to withdraw, holding the soft flesh between your fingers and taking handfuls of her.

Karina clutches, clawing at the floor, but says nothing, letting the sensations take her away, overwhelmed. Just her moans and the deep gasping breath through her nose as you roll your hips into her, grinding and stroking over her and causing her to go so rigid and tense. Her eyes roll back as you lose yourself within her.

A rhythm forms and you're barrelling towards giving her the mess she wants inside her ass. She strains to say, "Fuck my ass. Fuck it. Fuck it and then fill it. Want you so deep. Want all that cum."

Your fingernails dig in, gouging red scratches on her pale ass cheeks as you squeeze her tighter. Karina's hole grows snugger and hotter by the second as if the warmth and depth were begging for what Karina had voiced—an ass full of cum. You certainly want that, and the faster and rougher your hips work the closer it is. "Love filling all your tight holes."

"Do it, cum," Karina moans.

Hard and fast it arrives, the need that you can't prevent. You erupt within her. Violent spasms accompany your filling of her ass, of what must be the most satisfying, taboo orgasm of your life (so far). She takes it all so beautifully, moaning and squealing as she fills up.

No mess. None at all. "So full," she whines. No mess but the one in her.

You lean down, head at her shoulder as you catch your breath, and she cranes her head to nuzzle against you, reaching up to touch your cheek and make eye contact with you through heavy-lidded, satisfied eyes. In that gaze, she doesn't have a smirk or any sort of mischief, just a pleased look of joy, appreciation, and perhaps even a desire for more. You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't say you shared the feeling.

You leave her there, slumped onto the floor, ass in the air. Her little maid outfit is barely even affixed to her body anymore, crumpled and hanging around her midsection. The skin of her ass still bears the marks of your nails. She remains where you have left her. Karina's face and breasts smudge and push against the floor with each breath she takes. The room smells of sex, her, the two of you.

"Clean yourself up. Clean my office up," you instruct her while buckling yourself back up before heading for the door.

Karina coughs once, then admits, "I don't know if I can manage that. Maybe we need a real maid."

[tender-rosiey]

Hii, can I request a fic where sukuna is trying to court the reader but she's still scared of him and doesn't realize what he's trying to do?🫶🏾

tethered — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i could not let reader be trampled on; am sorry :( i mean you can tell she is scared but she aint gon take crap from him ALSO if you guys saw that I used this sukuna panel before, pls tell me tyyy

the room feels far too small with him in it, despite its towering ceilings and wide stone floors. his presence suffocates every inch of space, like the weight of a storm pressing down on you, demanding attention.

your hands tremble slightly as you pour tea into the lacquered cup, but you force them to steady. you’ve been doing this long enough to know better than to show fear, even if your pulse hammers in your throat.

the weight of sukuna’s gaze is heavy, as always, but you keep your eyes trained on the task, pretending not to notice the way he watches your every move, like a predator biding its time.

you place the tea in front of him, bowing respectfully.

yet the air between you shifts—his presence thick with something unfamiliar. you glance up, wary, only to find his eyes, crimson and sharp, still locked onto you.

that smile—the one that sends chills racing down your spine—curves his lips.

“you’re trembling again,” he says, his voice low, dark amusement coloring every word.

you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe slowly, evenly.

“it’s cold, my lord,” you respond, as calmly as you can manage, though the lie feels feeble. everyone knows that with sukuna in the room, it’s never the cold you have to fear.

he leans forward slightly, one of his lower arms lazily resting on the table, the other two still folded across his broad chest. “is that so?” his voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it that unsettles you more than his usual biting remarks.

you’ve heard the whispers, the rumors—how he’s been different lately, his focus shifted. and it’s not hard to guess where that focus lies.

you’ve felt the shift, too. the extra care given to your meals, the finery left in your chambers, and the subtle way he’s been keeping you close. too close.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, nerves flaring. “I don’t mean to waste your time, my lord. if there’s nothing else, I should return to my duties.”

his chuckle fills the room, rich and deep, as though you’ve just said something absurdly amusing. “so eager to leave?” he asks, his voice low. “I’ve been generous, haven’t I?”

there’s something different in his tone now, something dangerous. your stomach knots as his gaze sharpens, studying you with unnerving intensity.

“my lord, I—” you stop yourself, choosing your words carefully. the last thing you want is to provoke him. “you’ve been more than kind. but I am still just a servant. I don’t require such attention.”

his smile widens, showing more of his sharp teeth, the predatory glint in his eyes growing darker. one of his upper hands moves, reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze head-on.

“just a servant?” he repeats, voice dripping with mockery. “you really think I would waste my time on someone who means nothing?”

you swallow hard, refusing to flinch under his touch. his hand is surprisingly gentle, but the power behind it is unmistakable. you force yourself to meet his eyes, despite every instinct screaming at you to look away.

“I—I…think I don’t know why you would waste your time on someone who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”

his eyes flash with something dark and unreadable, but it isn’t anger. it’s interest. you can see the amusement flickering beneath the surface, and it sends another chill down your spine.

“you think you’re brave?” he muses, his voice lowering to a dark whisper. “or perhaps foolish?”

your breath hitches, his words unsettling. “I don’t think it’s foolish to speak honestly,” you reply, voice steadier than you feel. “especially when I’ve done nothing to earn the attention of someone like you.”

sukuna leans forward again, all four arms now resting on the arms of his throne as he stares you down. the air feels heavier, charged with something dangerous and electric.

his voice drops low, smooth as silk but with a dark edge. “you’ve earned it by surviving in my presence this long. by not running when you had the chance. that interests me.”

your heart races, the closeness unnerving, but you refuse to back down. “I’m here because it’s my duty,” you manage, your voice sharp and defiant. “not because I seek your favor or your… gifts.”

sukuna laughs then, the sound deep and rumbling, like distant thunder.

“ah, so you do notice my gifts. modest as they are.” he leans in closer, one of his lower hands brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “tell me, little servant, if it’s not favor you seek, what do you want?”

your stomach flips, the closeness sending a wave of heat through your cheeks, but you stand firm.

“I want to be left alone,” you reply bluntly, trying not to flinch under his gaze. “I want to do my duties without feeling like prey every time I enter the room.”

his eyes narrow slightly, a dangerous glint flashing in them, but there’s something else too. amusement. curiosity. he’s not angry—if anything, he seems more intrigued than before.

“you think you’re prey?” he muses, his voice lowering to a dark whisper. “perhaps you are. or perhaps, you’ve already caught the ‘predator’s’ attention in ways you don’t yet understand.”

his words sending a chill down your spine, but you stand firm. “If I have, it’s not by choice, sukuna-sama.”

his smile softens, just a fraction, but it’s no less menacing. he rises from his seat, towering over you as he closes the distance between you in a heartbeat.

his four hands move with calculated grace, two of them resting on either side of your face, trapping you in place as he looms over you.

“choice is an illusion for you humans,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “but you’ll come to understand that in time.”

despite the trembling in your limbs, you lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a newfound defiance. “I’m not afraid of you.”

he smirks, his eyes gleaming with approval at your boldness. “good. fear is boring.”

then, in a startlingly unexpected move, he leans down, brushing his lips against your forehead—an act of tenderness that catches you completely off guard.

the warmth of his breath lingers, and the moment stretches between you, almost surreal.

“besides,” he continues, voice low and surprisingly gentle, “I find your spirit rather… enticing.”

your heart races, confusion mingling with the fear that had gripped you moments before.

this man, this powerful being, was something else entirely, and as you step back, you can’t shake the strange warmth that blooms in your chest.

with that, he releases you, stepping back and letting the tension between you linger like smoke in the air.

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[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

HEAR ME OUT!! ollie thinking felix is single right, hanging out at oxford and everything and then one night felix is nowhere to be seen and he finds him with a girl. turns out feliz is vv much not single but ollie knows her as the smart girl of the school so he's shocked by the pairing?!?!?!

Who would've thought? || Felix Catton x reader

A/n: I actually hate how I did this but oh well, also, my first felix catton fic did so well so quickly!!!! so happy you guys enjoyed it :)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, drinking, idk rlly im so bad w my warnings 😭

Wc: 764

Felix Catton Masterlist

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Your voice causes Oliver to flinch as he whips his head to where the sound of your voice came from. "W-what-" He stammers. You giggle at his behaviour, taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.

"I see the way you stare at him, Ollie. I don't blame you though, he's a sight for sore eyes," You sigh, leaning your head against the wall, watching Felix with his friends.

Oliver didn't know what to say. He only stared at you before gravitating his gaze back to Felix. Oliver knew you as one of the smartest girls at school, your grades rivalling with his.

"You can admit it. He's gorgeous." You open your mouth again, turning your head at Oliver with a grin. He gulps. "I-uhm-" He began before you interrupt him, "Come on, Ollie" Your tone was playful.

"He's gorgeous." Oliver quickly replied as you smile. You push yourself off the wall, patting Ollie's shoulder before leaving him standing there dumbfounded.

~

"Fuck!" You curse as you feel the hot liquid cascade down your front. You let out a loud groan, throwing your coffee cup in a nearby bin. "I'm so sorry-" "It's fine! Completely fine," You mutter to the idiot who bumped into you because his eyes was trained on a book.

You let out a deep sigh, checking your watch. You would be late if you turned back around to change. "Hey! Y/n!" You hear a voice call out from behind you. Turning your head you spot Oliver coming your way on his bike.

“Hey?” you greet him with a hint of confusion. Without a word, he unzips his backpack, pulling out a plaid shirt. “Wear this to cover the spill,” he suggests, a warm smile accompanying the gesture. You conceal any distaste with a subtle expression, graciously accepting the offered shirt.

“Uhm-” “Just return it later when you can,” he cuts you off, not giving you time to answer before riding off. You stand there, looking down at the plaid shirt, before letting out a sigh and slipping it on.

“Cute shirt, babe,” your boyfriend chuckles, and you respond with an eye roll, sitting down with a loud huff escaping your lips. “Don’t even. Some idiot bumped into me on the way here,” you mutter, opening your notebook aggressively.

Farleigh strolls in, joining the two of you, “Woah, loving the shirt, y/n. Where’d you get it from? The charity shop?” He jokes, prompting you to scowl at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Felix’s chuckles resonate beside you.

“Jesus, what’s got your panties tied up in a knot?” he laughs, taking a seat beside you while you choose to ignore him. Suddenly, Felix exclaims, “Oh, shit! Farleigh, we gotta go. Professor Davies wants to see us,” checking his watch before swiftly getting up.

Farleigh vents his frustration with a groan, “Sorry, babe. See you later?” Felix plants a kiss on your cheek, and you nod in response, waving the two boys off before redirecting your focus to the notebook in front of you.

“Hey,” you raise your head to find Oliver approaching. Flashing a warm smile, you greet him with a friendly, “Hi Oliver,” your attention briefly returning to your book as he stands there, exuding a hint of awkwardness.

“I’ll make sure to return your shirt once it’s washed,” you reassure him, receiving a silent nod in acknowledgment. Returning to your book, you shift your attention back to him, “Is there anything else you need?” He nervously scratches his neck. “Do you mind if I study with you?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.

“Absolutely, feel free,” you graciously respond, rearranging your belongings to create space for him to settle. A warm smile graces his face as he takes the offered seat, expressing gratitude with a simple “Thanks.” You reciprocate with a light chuckle, assuring him, “No problem at all.”

~

“He is such a nerd,” Farleigh snorts as you roll your eyes, your fingers moving to play with Felix’s necklace around his neck. Noticing your quietness, Felix looks at you on his lap. “You okay?” He says quietly as you hum, taking a sip out of his glass, before pressing your cheek against his, your eyes wandering around the table.

“I should probably go now, I don’t wanna study too late,” You let out a quiet sigh as you get up from your boyfriend’s lap. Felix lends a helping hand to adjust your skirt, smoothly guiding the denim down while playfully patting your ass, accompanied by a mischievous grin.

“Where are you going? It’s still so early!” Annabel shoots you a disapproving frown from across the table. “I really need to study for that test tomorrow,” you respond, the playful boos from others resonating as you playfully roll your eyes.

“Listen, I’ll buy the next round yeah?” Your offer is met with enthusiastic hoots as you chuckle. Rounds tend to be costly, especially with our group, but being part of a wealthy family, the expense doesn’t faze you.

Felix joins you in fetching the drinks before you wave at your group and make your exit. Outside, the cool night air embraces you as you walk down the stairs, and a twinge of regret sets in over your choice of attire.

Lost in thought, you accidentally collide with someone. Looking up, you find yourself face to face with Oliver, whose initial surprise transforms into recognition. “Oh, Oliver, hey,” you manage a smile, and he reciprocates it warmly.

“Hey. You headin’ back?” He gestures behind him with his thumb, and you nod, “Yeah, studying for that test we have tomorrow morning.” A chuckle escapes you as he nods, an awkward silence settling between the two of you.

“Is it, uh, busy in there?” Oliver speaks up. “Hm? Oh. Uhm, no, not really,” you shake your head. Another moment of silence follows. “Listen, Ollie, I should really get going,” you purse your lips as he moves aside. “Yeah, of course,” he offers you a warm smile, and you nod your head, walking away.

~

Over the course of the next couple days. Felix and Oliver had become very good friends. You would hear Felix’s recounts of his day when the two of you were entangled in each others arms and it always included Oliver.

The party rolled around and you found yourself dancing with Felix, your ass on his crotch as the two of you seamlessly moved to Sexyback.

With one hand cradling a red plastic cup filled with alcohol, and the other clasping a partially smoked cigarette, Felix guided your hips skillfully, his touch resting casually on your hipbone.

“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Felix exclaimed loudly over the music as you smirk to yourself, already abit tipsy. “Do you wanna go somewhere?” You reply back to him, turning around as he eagerly nods.

You giggle to yourself, knowing what the rest of the night would consist of. Fucking Felix. You stumbled as Felix pulled you along the house. “Fuck, these heels,” You moan in annoyance.

Eager to reach his dorm quicjly, Felix scooped you up in a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. A light squeal escaped you, drawing the attention of those around, their curious stares following the two of you.

The second he shut the door behind him, your clothes littered his room as he ravenously attacked your lips, his hands roaming around your body as you let out quiet moans, enjoying the way they groped every inch of your body.

Meanwhile, Oliver was roaming around the party, completely and utterly bored. He first wandered around looking for someone he knew, but that was only three people. You, Felix, and Michael. Michael wouldn’t even be there, so just you or Felix.

Acknowledging the fact that neither you or Felix were here, Oliver’s gaze fell on Farleigh at the other end of the room. With a joint in hand, reclining on the couch, Oliver decided to test his luck and headed in Farleigh’s direction.

“Do you know where Felix is?” Farleigh looks Oliver up and down before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you wanna know?” His tone was flat, bored from talking with Oliver already.

“Just wonderin’,” Oliver shrugged awkwardly. Farleigh, taking a long drag, nonchalantly answered, “He went back to his dorm, I think,” his tone uninterested as he flicked ash from his joint.

“Thanks,” Oliver nods his head before turning around. The walk to Felix’s dorm was all too familiar for him, often spending time there whenever he and Felix hung out.

He knocks on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response. Oliver then tried the door handle, twisting it only to find it unlocked. Opening the door with a loud creak as his eyes look around the dimly lit interior of Felix’s room.

“Felix-“ Oliver cuts himself off as he realises what he just walked in on. A feminine gasp reached his ears as he instinctively tried to avert his gaze. “For fuck’s sake, mate!” Felix’s irritated voice resonated, accompanied by the rustling of sheets in the room.

Felix quickly moves to cover the both of you as you screw your eyes shut. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock Ollie?” Felix exasperates as he slips on his boxers, his frame still covering you from Ollie’s eyes.

"Sorry, the door was unlocked, so I thought-" Oliver began, but Felix cut him off, "Yeah, well, you thought wrong," accompanied by an annoyed chuckle. You reached for Felix's shirt, slipping it on as you sat on the bed.

Oliver couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at who Felix was fucking; there was no denying it. It couldn’t have been Annabel or India—two girls he's often heard talking about Felix as if they were together—both of them were at the party when he left. So who was it? “Seriously mate. If I don’t answer, I’m either not here or don’t want to answer,” Felix runs his hands through his hair.

He was very bothered that he was interrupted. Felix hated being interrupted in the middle of things. Especially sex with you. “Felix, it’s okay,” You rest your hand on his shoulder as he looks back at you.

Oliver's jaw hung open, frozen in a momentary state of shock, as your head playfully emerged beside Felix. His eyes widened as he tried to process the unexpected sight before him. A cascade of questions flooded his mind, evident in the incredulous expression on his face. "Hi, Ollie," you greeted with a light chuckle, amusement dancing in your eyes as you observed his stunned reaction.

The air seemed charged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Oliver stammered through his words, attempting to articulate the myriad of questions racing through his mind. "I- What- Are you two-" he fumbled, his sentences colliding in his attempt to understand the situation unfolding before him.

Felix, ever nonchalant, cut through the awkward tension with a matter-of-fact tone. "She's my girlfriend," he stated, his words hanging in the air. As if to emphasize the point, you casually moved to sit on Felix's lap.

A moment of stunned silence enveloped Oliver. Felix had a girlfriend, and it was you. The revelation hit him with unexpected force, leaving him momentarily breathless. Questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't comprehend why no one had ever mentioned it before.

"Why do you look so shocked, Ollie?" Felix chuckled, a lighthearted tone in his voice, while you added to the teasing atmosphere with a playful giggle. You could practically sense Oliver's head spinning with the unasked questions, creating an intriguing air of mystery around the situation.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise as he processed the unexpected pairing. He released a nonchalant shrug, attempting to mask the internal whirlwind of thoughts.

"No one’s ever said anything about it, I just assumed you both were single," he admitted, his eyes fixed on you and Felix. Oliver's head continued to shake in a subtle attempt to grasp the reality of you being in a relationship with Felix.

A faint smile played on your lips as you tilted your head at him, a touch of amusement in your gaze. "You never asked," you pointed out casually, your words hanging in the air. Oliver's lips formed a perfect 'O' as he absorbed the implication, silently nodding in acknowledgment.

The room was then engulfed in an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the atmosphere. Sensing the discomfort, Oliver took the initiative to break the tension. "Uhm, I should get going," he announced, his hand absently scratching the back of his head. Felix, understanding the unspoken cue, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go ahead."

Oliver's lips pursed, his gaze flickering between you and Felix, caught in a moment of realization. With a slightly awkward smile, you innocently waved at him. "Bye, Ollie!" you chimed in a light-hearted manner, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness as he leaves the dorm.

Felix couldn't hide his amusement. "You really didn't tell him?" he asked, breaking the silence with a playful smile as he looked down at you. In response, you innocently shrugged. "I didn't think it was that necessary to bring it up, besides, he really never asked."

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝

NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !

• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.

Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.

Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.

; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.

"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.

Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠

; kento | sent a message.

10:24 pm

kento : just got home love ❤️

kento : what time are you going home?

11:04 pm

kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️

kento : is everything going alright?

kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅

11:07 pm

kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️

kento : I'm worried 😢

you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭

you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.

Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.

Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.

; nanami.kento1990

tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️

itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.

gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???

gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️

itaaa.yuji | first post !!

nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻

Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.

Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠

; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.

Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[singmyaubade]

the greatest heist

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy

a/n: my bad for taking so long.. enjoy & as always, i apologize if you hate this!

part 1 | part 2

SITTING in the Hospital Wing for the rest of your glamorous night was certainly not on your bucket list for the year.

You couldn't believe that while your friends were most likely on their next shot of Firewhiskey, there you were, sitting with an ice pack on your ankle and a yellow, now turning purple, bruise resting below it.

The scowl on your face couldn’t be more defined before a gentle squeeze on your forearm snapped you out of your angered thoughts.

A sweet, warm James sat beside you, his comforting smile as kind as ever. You gave him a shy smile in return, reluctant to admit that his presence made you feel just a little bit better.

"You know, you don’t have to stay here," You said, voice soft but sincere. "You don’t have to stay out of pity for me while the rest of our friends are probably on their fourth round of Truth or Dare." You snorted, trying to make light of it.

James lightly laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I wanna be here," He replied sweetly, making your heart swell despite yourself. "I mean, I am partly to blame for your injury."

You snickered, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, your vicious twirling of me is definitely what did it."

He yawned dramatically. "Yeah, I’m so strong," He flexed one arm with exaggerated pride, earning a laugh from you as you playfully swatted at him.

"Well, dearie!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, appearing suddenly from the patient beside you. "It seems it’s just a deep bruise—nothing a bit of Bruisewart Balm won’t fix," She stated, handing you the small jar of balm. "I’d recommend taking it easy on your feet for a day or two, but nothing too strenuous."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," You smiled as she nodded and moved on to her next patient.

"And to prevent more bruising," Pomfrey added with a sly smile, "I’d recommend staying away from Mr. Potter over here."

James frowned. "Oh Pops, how you wound me!" He said dramatically, making Pomfrey roll her eyes and walk away.

The tension in the room lifted, but as James turned back to you, the air between you two shifted. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how the dim light of the Hospital Wing made them look even more intense. You felt your heart race in your chest as he cleared his throat.

"Well, it seems like you won’t need to stay overnight," James said, a little too casually, his voice softer than usual. "May I help you hop back to your dorm m'lady?" His hand extended out for you.

You blinked at him, a little surprised at his suggestion. "What a gentleman," You mocked, though your voice was lighthearted as he helped you carefully get to your feet, his hand steady at your waist and the small of your back.

You both started down the hallway, his support a comforting presence as you tried to regain your balance on your injured ankle.

"You know Emma’s going to kill me, right?" You said with a dry chuckle.

James huffed in response, his arm still around you. "She’s really not as deadly as you all make her out to be," he said lightly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I think there’s a reason all the girls in sixth year have stayed away from you, and it isn’t because of your looks or personality."

James laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment in his eyes. "Well, she’s just really protective, you know?" He helped you adjust your step as you hopped slightly, trying to stay balanced. "She cares about me."

You raised an eyebrow. 'Protective doesn’t mean bat-shit crazy,' You thought to yourself.

"But I am sorry for how she’s been treating you," James continued, his voice turning a little more serious. "We broke up over it, you know?"

You didn’t know how to respond. You’d heard they’d had a fight, but you hadn’t realized it had escalated to that point.

"Over me?" you asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah," He nodded, his voice almost sheepish. "I know we haven’t talked much in the last couple of years, but you’ve always meant a lot to me, you know? So, when she gave me that choice—you or her—I thought it was a load of bollocks, but in the end, I think it was what we both needed. To take a step back, I mean."

You felt your stomach twist at his words. You knew their relationship had always been complicated, but hearing it from him like this was not what you had expected.

"And how did she take that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

James’s face softened, but there was a faint trace of sadness in his expression. "She yelled. Cursed me out for a bit, slammed the door, and I haven’t seen her since."

You nodded, processing his words. You hoped to feel happy and to be excited, but you only felt sadness for James. Despite your dislike for Emma, he had seemed to actually enjoy her presence.

And all you ever wanted for James was for him to be happy even if it meant the literal Anti-christ being his girlfriend.

"Well," You said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."

James looked over at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thanks."

The silence stretched between you two as you hobbled along the corridor. You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and something about it made your heart beat a little faster.

"Can I ask you something?" You ventured, glancing up at him.

"Anything," James replied, his voice sincere.

"Why didn’t you ever... you know, talk to me about this before? You’ve been kind of distant, and—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

James gave a small, rueful chuckle. "Guess I was just stupid, huh?" He looked over at you, his expression thoughtful. "I always figured things would work themselves out, and we would get closer in the future. But maybe I was wrong or just scared of Emma." He lightly laughed.

You didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet for a moment, your mind racing. The conversation felt like it was drifting toward a place you weren’t sure you were ready for, but at the same time, a part of you felt like you needed the conversation.

As you approached the Gryffindor Tower entrance, you could see the Fat Lady’s portrait in the distance, and the familiar weight of the evening was starting to settle back into place.

"This is me," You said, trying to keep your tone light as you stopped in front of the portrait.

"Yeah," James replied softly, a bit quieter now like he didn’t want the moment to end. "But, you know, if you ever need anything—"

"I know where to find you," You said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

James looked at you for a long moment, and for just a beat, it felt like everything between you two shifted again. His eyes were intense, but there was something more in them now, something that made your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "You do."

You turned toward the Fat Lady, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. You gave her the password, and as the portrait swung open, you took a last glance at James.

"Night, James," You said, your voice soft.

"Goodnight," he replied, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside.

And for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe there was more to your friendship than you’d ever realized.

--

"He said what?!" Dorcas yelled excitedly, her voice carrying across the otherwise quiet Great Hall. You quickly shushed her, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. It was way too early for this kind of drama.

You had both decided to wake up an hour earlier than all the other girls for two very important reasons: 1) You didn’t trust Emma, and 2) You really didn’t trust Emma.

A few third-years glanced up from their breakfast, clearly curious about the outburst. You snorted, trying to hide your smile as you took another bite of toast.

"And what did you say?" Dorcas asked, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

"Nothing," You muttered, refusing to meet her gaze as you stared off into the distance.

"What do you mean you said nothing?!" She questioned loudly, banging her hand against the table with enough force to rattle your plate.

You grabbed her hands quickly, trying to calm her down. "Stop doing that!" You whispered, sending apologetic glances to the third-years who were now staring openly at you.

"I just mean you had a perfect opportunity to get back at Emma, get Potter on your side, and you said nothing?!" Dorcas exclaimed, her voice rising with the excitement of her accusation.

You sighed, guilt twisting in your stomach. "I can’t do that to him, Dorc," You said quietly.

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly processing your words. There was a flash of realization in her eyes before she grinned, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You like him!"

You felt your face heat up as you rolled your eyes. "I do not."

"You do," She sang, drawing out the words like she was taunting a child.

"I do not," You said firmly, refusing to let her win.

"But you do—"

"I do not!" You interrupted, suddenly shouting, not even bothering to care about the third years who were now openly staring at you.

Dorcas smirked in victory. "Yeah, sure you don’t."

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "This can’t be happening to me. It’s been one day since the plan was made!" You whined, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Dorcas gently pried your hands away from your face, her fingers rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. "You can’t just hold your feelings in. If you like Potter, then so what?" She said gently, trying to comfort you. "Better than that evil witch."

You snorted at that. "I can't, Dorcas. I refuse to like someone who has the craziest ex-girlfriend in all of girlfriend history."

She sighed dramatically, looking at you as if you were the most difficult person in the world. "So what’s your master plan now, huh? Avoid him forever?"

You put on a fake, thoughtful face. "Avoid him," You pondered with a smile. "It’s the only option. Great idea, Dorc!"

Dorcas huffed, shaking her head as she took her hands away from yours. "Yeah, maybe just avoid him," She muttered, clearly not sold on your brilliant plan.

You laughed and stabbed a fork into your eggs. "Exactly."

Before Dorcas could reply, a voice slid in beside her, smooth and familiar. "Isn’t it the prettiest ladies I’ve had the honor of seeing as I awake?" Sirius Black drawled, grinning widely. Dorcas immediately shot him a disgusted look, scooting a few inches away from him.

"What do you want, Black?" You asked, already annoyed before he could even open his mouth again.

"Why do you treat me so horribly when I just want your love?" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as if you had wounded him deeply.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his antics.

"Are all of the Marauders this dramatic?" Dorcas asked, still eyeing Sirius in distaste.

"Believe it or not, yes," You confirmed, just as someone slid into the seat beside you.

"Good morning," James Potter greeted, flashing you that same sweet smile you had trouble getting out of your head.

You immediately felt a flutter in your chest. Your throat seemed to dry up as you turned to look at him. He looked radiant this morning—like the sun itself had decided to take residence in his smile.

You gulped, your brain scrambling for words. You quickly glanced at Dorcas, who gave you a subtle shake of her head, silently telling you not to do anything rash.

"Morning!" you rushed out, way too eager. You quickly gathered your things, mentally panicking. "I actually have to go study in the library for a while, so I’m just gonna go ahead." You stood quickly, trying to make your escape.

James stood up with you, looking at you with those shining eyes. "I can come with," He offered cheerfully, clearly not reading the room at all.

You shook your head rapidly, desperate to escape the conversation. "No, no! I’ll be fine!" you said a little too quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you backed away. "I’ll just see you later."

James and Sirius exchanged a curious glance as you rushed off. You breathed a sigh of relief the moment you stepped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

Finally, peace and quiet.

But then you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James Potter jogging to catch up.

"Hey!" He called out, clearly not bothered by your earlier panic. "I decided to come with you since I’ve got nothing to do. Figured we could walk to class together after studying." He said it so cheerfully as if you hadn’t just escaped from his company a few moments ago.

You blinked, speechless. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. You didn’t think it would be this hard to get James Potter off your back.

He matched your pace, the two of you walking side by side in the silence that felt anything but comfortable.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if your life had just become infinitely more complicated than you had planned.

"So, what did you need to study?" James asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he looked at you with that easygoing grin of his.

You quickly scrambled for an answer, the pressure of his gaze making your mind race. "Astronomy!" You replied a bit too quickly, the excitement in your voice betraying your nerves.

"But you've always been good at Astronomy," James raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical as he studied you closely.

You tried to shrug it off, but your voice betrayed you. "I'm afraid the subject's been slowly slipping from me," You said, forcing a smile.

His face softened, the skepticism fading into a more understanding look. "Yeah, Professor Sinistra does tend to move quickly," He said, nodding in agreement. "I even tried to cast a time-slowing spell on her once just to get down all my notes."

You laughed, the image of James trying (and likely failing) to slow down the Professor amusing. "And what did you get in return?" you asked, a teasing grin playing on your lips.

"Two weeks of detention," He said, smirking as if the whole thing was just a funny memory. "Totally worth it though."

You giggled, the sound feeling lighter in your chest. "Of course it was."

You both walked in silence next to each other, making your way towards the library. You were glad that the silence was comfortable but a part of you still thought avoiding James was the best plan.

You went to sit at a table before James rushed over to you, pulling your chair out for you as you rolled your eyes, "Do you just want me to keep calling you a gentleman?"

"A bit," He shrugged as he sat down across from you.

You opened your textbook for Astronomy, actually deciding to do work since you were there anyways.

You noticed James making paper planes and attempting to get them to fly over your head. By the fourth one, it hit you square in the forehead, and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"Do you need me to give you a task?" You asked, eyeing him with a look that could only be described as 'toddler supervision.'

James rested his head on his palm, his gaze staring off into space. "I just think there are more exciting things we could be doing right now," He replied with a bored sigh.

"Like what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and offering him a light smile.

He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with mischief. "I could teach you how to play Quidditch!"

You almost felt sick just hearing the words. You shook your head furiously. "I don't know about that," You said, looking back down at your textbook as if you could will the conversation away.

James grabbed your hand in an exaggerated plea. "Come on, it'll be fun!" He cheered, his enthusiasm making you laugh, but before you could say anything else, the librarian shushed him with a fierce look.

You giggled quietly, "Sorry, James, no," You said firmly, scribbling some notes in your textbook.

James pouted dramatically, laying his head down on the desk in defeat. You studied him for a few moments as he huffed, like a child who hadn't gotten his way.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the pull of his antics. "I'm not falling for this."

He continued to pout, his face scrunched in exaggerated misery. He pretended to sniffle dramatically, looking up at you with his big hazel eyes.

"No, James, I mean it," You said, trying to keep your tone firm, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

--

And next thing you knew, you were on the Quidditch field.

You yelped loudly as you clung to James’s waist, the wind rushing in your face as he zoomed higher into the sky. "We haven't even made it into the air yet!" James laughed excitedly, clearly having the time of his life as you panicked.

"This is still really high!" You cried out, your grip tightening around him. You dared a glance down and saw the ground growing smaller and more distant by the second.

"Close your eyes, I’ve got you!" James shouted reassuringly, though it still sounded somehow delicate, soothing you.

With a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped him even tighter. The wind whipped around you, but James’s steady hold kept you grounded—physically, at least. When you opened your eyes, the sensation of rising fast into the air filled you with a mix of excitement and dread.

James cheered as you both soared, flipping through the air and spiraling in wide, dizzying motions. You screamed, the wind filling your lungs with cold, sharp air.

But then, as if sensing your panic, James calmed things down, steering the broom to glide slowly over the Black Lake.

You exhaled a long breath, your heart rate slowing as you took in the view. From this height, the lake looked more beautiful than you'd ever seen it before, its surface sparkling in the early morning light.

You rested your cheek against his back, staring down at the glistening water below. "This is really pretty," You murmured, surprised at how peaceful it felt up here.

James chuckled lightly. "It's one of my favorite things to look at when I ride." He smiled, but you could feel his warmth, even through the rush of wind. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back with a grin that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Is this where you disappear to during Quidditch games when you're supposed to be looking for the snitch?" You joked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James's eyes widened dramatically. "You've figured me out!" he yelled, a laugh bursting from him before he abruptly swerved the broom again, causing you both to spiral upward with another whoosh of wind.

You screamed as you were whipped through the air, but James’s laughter was all you could hear. He cheered as the wind carried you higher, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you felt the thrill and panic collide inside you.

Seeing James so excited, gliding through the air, eased most of your fear. His laughter, the way he moved so effortlessly—it was impossible not to feel lighter in his presence.

You hadn’t realized until now how much you wanted to see someone smile like that, so carefree and alive. His joy was infectious, and it made you feel like maybe you were starting to enjoy this too.

James’s grin widened when he saw the way you were watching him. “See? Told you it’s fun up here,” he said, his voice full of that same infectious enthusiasm. He spun the broom gently, making you feel the rush of wind again, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.

You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s amazing up here,” You admitted.

James’s smile softened as he gently lowered both of you to the ground. You carefully dismounted the broom, your legs still a little shaky from the ride.

As James went to put the broom back in its rightful place, you glanced at your watch—(yes, you had actually bought one)—and your heart dropped. "Shit! James, we’re going to be late!" You yelled, rushing toward him.

He immediately sprinted over as you tossed his bag at him with a hurried "Sorry!" You grabbed yours, slinging it over your shoulder before running up the stairs.

After what felt like an eternity of climbing, you stopped at the first landing to catch your breath.

James huffed, leaning on the railing. "Maybe we should just skip," He suggested, looking at you with a mischievous glint.

You shot him a death glare as the stairs shifted back into place, urging him to hurry. "Not an option, Potter!"

You both barely made it to class, arriving two minutes late. Professor Adair gave you both a disappointed look and gestured to the empty seats in the front. The entire class seemed to turn toward you, exchanging curious glances.

James leaned over and whispered, "Hey, you did great today."

You flushed, feeling a little flustered. "Thanks," You mumbled, half of you still recovering from the flying.

"Think I can have a spot on the team?" You asked, grinning at him.

James grinned back. "Oh, for sure. Your flying skills are impeccable," He said, his tone light and teasing.

"Be careful, Potter. I might take your spot as Seeker." You nudged him, half-joking, but his hand squeezed your thigh lightly in response.

You were about to respond when you saw your friends walking toward you, with Emma trailing behind them. The glare she shot you could've melted stone, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of unease.

"And why were you two late?" Lily asked, her voice mock-stern.

"Well, Mom, we were out flying," James said with a dramatic pout, making you laugh.

Lily looked at you, wide-eyed. "You went flying?"

"How did you make her do that?" Remus asked, half-sitting on his chair in front of you as Sirius snored, head resting on his shoulder.

"I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Y/N jump ," Marlene chimed in, snickering.

You shot her a look, but the corner of your lips twitched. "It was a one-time thing."

"Oh, yeah?" James smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. "I think there’s still more flying to do," He teased, and you giggled.

Your friends exchanged suspicious glances, but Emma’s sour expression cut through the moment. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on James, her voice syrupy sweet. "Well, we’re thinking about going to Hogsmeade tonight," she said, ignoring you completely.

"Sounds fun," You said casually, but Emma’s smile faltered slightly.

Sirius yawned, not looking up from where he was practically asleep on Remus’s shoulder. "So, are you two in?"

James looked at you with a grin. "If M’lady is."

"Sure, why not?" You responded lightly.

Emma looked like she was about to cast the Killing Curse right there, but she held it together, forcing a fake smile. "Great, it’s a date," She said, her eyes burning into you.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be very interesting.

[s4kura-tr3]

Could you make a crybaby reader with JJK men? Like just an overly sensitive/nice reader? It’s okay if not! Have a good day!

Sensitive!

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru never meant to upset you—he rarely ever did. But today, his usual playful teasing hit you harder than usual.

You were sitting on the couch together, scrolling through your phone while he flipped lazily through the channels on the TV. Out of nowhere, Gojo chuckled and said, “You know, you’re so dramatic sometimes. It’s kinda cute, but it’s like everything’s the end of the world for you.”

You froze, his words hitting a nerve. Dramatic. That’s how people had dismissed your feelings for years. You tried to brush it off, but your chest tightened, and your vision blurred slightly as you blinked back tears.

Gojo didn’t notice at first, still flipping channels and humming to himself. But when you didn’t respond with your usual witty comeback, he glanced over and saw your downturned face.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check.

“Hey,” he said more gently now, setting the remote down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Finally, you looked at him, your voice quiet. “You called me dramatic. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? It’s like every time I feel something, people just… dismiss me.”

Gojo’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, scooting closer to you on the couch. “I wasn’t trying to dismiss you. I swear, I just—ugh, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

You didn’t reply, still feeling the sting of his words.

Gojo reached for your hands, holding them in his warm, large ones. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not dramatic. You just feel things deeply, and I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually. You care so much, and that’s rare. Honestly, I wish I was more like you sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t a good thing. It is. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky you put up with my dumb jokes.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, despite your lingering hurt. “You really think that?”

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy returning as he kissed your knuckles. “I think you’re perfect. And I’m perfectly terrible at saying things the right way. Forgive me?”

You sighed, the weight in your chest easing. “Okay. But maybe think before you speak next time?”

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight as a peace offering. But only if it’s not boring.”

You laughed softly, and just like that, Gojo had you smiling again, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

Geto Suguru

It was late in the evening, and you and Geto Suguru were sitting together in a cozy café. He had insisted on taking you out to unwind after a long week, and for a while, the warm atmosphere and his gentle company had done just that. But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

You were talking about a project you’d been working on—how much effort you’d put into it and how nervous you were about how it would turn out. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Geto chuckled softly and said, “You really overthink things sometimes, don’t you?”

His tone was light, and you knew he didn’t mean it maliciously, but the comment stopped you in your tracks. Your heart sank, and your chest tightened as those familiar insecurities reared their heads. You looked down at your tea, your appetite for conversation disappearing.

Geto immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning closer.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Did I say something wrong?”

You hesitated, but his steady gaze encouraged you to speak. “It’s just… when you said I overthink things. I know I do, okay? I hear it all the time, and I hate that about myself. It feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough, and people just see me as… too much.”

Geto’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of regret crossing his face. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.

You looked away, but he gently reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone warm and steady. “I wasn’t trying to say that in a bad way. I know you overthink because you care. You care so much about everything, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength.”

You blinked at him, his words catching you off guard.

“You put your whole heart into what you do, and yeah, sometimes it makes you nervous or unsure, but that’s only because you want things to be perfect,” he continued. “And honestly? That’s one of the things I admire most about you. I could never think of that as a bad thing.”

The tightness in your chest began to ease as his words sank in. “You really mean that?” you asked softly.

Geto smiled gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Of course I do. And I’m sorry if what I said made you feel like I didn’t. I’ll be more careful with my words next time.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to remind you how amazing you are when you forget.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and the tension that had settled between you melted away.

“Now,” he said, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his chair, “how about I make it up to you with dessert? I hear they’ve got a mean matcha cheesecake here.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Always,” he said with a playful smirk, raising his hand to call for the waiter.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento had had an exhausting day. Every step he took up the stairs to your shared apartment felt heavier than the last, and all he wanted was to come home, see you, and let the warmth of your presence melt away the stress.

When he opened the door, you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. “Kento! You’re home!” you exclaimed, your excitement practically radiating off you.

He managed a small smile and placed a hand on your back, but the weight of his day still hung over him. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice tired.

You didn’t seem to notice his exhaustion as you began talking a mile a minute. “I missed you! You won’t believe the day I had—oh, and guess what? I tried that recipe you love, and I think it turned out amazing! Oh, and Louis did the funniest thing today—”

“Can you give me a second?” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

The room fell silent, and the warmth in your expression dimmed instantly. You stepped back, your arms falling to your sides. “Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry.”

Nanami immediately felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You weren’t upset because he was tired—you were upset because he’d made you feel like your excitement didn’t matter to him.

You turned away, mumbling something about letting him settle in, but he quickly reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

You hesitated, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault I had a hard day. I… I was looking forward to seeing you all day, and then I let my frustration get in the way.”

You blinked, your lips trembling slightly. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you admitted quietly.

“And you do,” he said immediately, stepping closer to you. “You’re the best part of my day. Always.”

Your eyes met his then, searching his face for the truth in his words. His expression was soft, full of remorse and affection.

“I don’t deserve to have you greet me with so much love after the way I acted,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “But I promise I’ll do better. You’re everything to me, and I should have treated you like it.”

You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I just got too excited,” you murmured.

“And I love that about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your excitement, your energy—it’s what makes this place feel like home. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve.”

For a moment, you stood there in his embrace, his warmth and steady heartbeat easing the lingering hurt.

“Do you want to sit down and tell me about your day?” he asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I want to hear everything.”

You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. But only if you let me heat up dinner for you first.”

He chuckled softly. “Deal. But don’t rush—just being here with you is enough.”

And as you led him to the table, the weight of his day began to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing he was home—with you.

Toji fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t the type to watch his words. His bluntness was just part of who he was—sharp, quick, and sometimes careless. Most of the time, you brushed it off, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt you. But tonight, it cut deeper than usual.

The two of you were in the kitchen after dinner. You were putting away dishes, humming softly, while Toji leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you.

“I’ve been thinking about trying something new,” you said, your tone excited. “Like a cooking class or maybe painting—something creative. I think it could be fun.”

Toji grunted in response, not looking up from the dish he was drying.

You hesitated but kept going, trying to draw him into the conversation. “What do you think? Would you want to try something like that with me?”

Toji sighed and set the dish down a little too hard, the sound making you flinch. “You don’t stick with stuff like that, do you?” he said, his voice flat. “You get all excited and then drop it a week later. What’s the point?”

You froze, his words hitting harder than you expected. You knew he had a point—sometimes you did lose interest in things quickly. But hearing him say it so bluntly, so dismissively, made your chest tighten.

“I…” Your voice wavered as you set the plate in your hands on the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together.”

Toji finally looked up, his brows furrowing when he saw the way your shoulders slumped. “Hey, don’t get all upset about it,” he said, his tone softening, but it didn’t help.

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. “I just… never mind.”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were already welling up, but Toji wasn’t one to let things go.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but when you tried to brush past him, he caught your wrist gently.

“Look at me,” he said firmly, his tone still low but insistent. You hesitated, and when you finally met his gaze, he could see the hurt in your eyes.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You didn’t have to say it at all,” you whispered. “You make me feel like I’m… not good at anything.”

Toji’s jaw tightened, guilt flashing across his face. He wasn’t good at this—at saying the right things or fixing mistakes—but he hated seeing you like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.

“You’re good at plenty of things,” he said, his tone softer now. “And… I’m an idiot for saying that to you. I wasn’t trying to put you down. I just… I don’t know how to say things without sounding like a jerk sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cooking class or whatever. And I’d do it with you if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to just say that,” you murmured.

“I’m not just saying it,” he said, stepping closer until he could wrap his arms around you. “You’re trying to do something fun, and instead of supporting you, I ran my mouth like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

His arms around you were warm and steady, and you could feel the sincerity in the way he held you.

“You’d really go with me?” you asked, your voice still small.

“Yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Even if I suck at it, I’d go. For you.”

Your lips quirked up into a small smile, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “Okay,” you said softly, leaning into his chest.

Toji smirked, holding you a little tighter. “Good. But don’t expect me to wear an apron or anything. That’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed, the sound lightening the room, and he sighed in relief, grateful to see your smile again.

Sukuna Ryomen

The Heian era was a time of beauty and chaos, and life with Sukuna Ryomen was no exception. Known as the King of Curses, Sukuna was feared across the land, but to you, he was something else entirely. His presence, though intimidating, had always been a source of strange comfort. However, his sharp tongue often betrayed him, and tonight was one of those nights.

You had spent the entire day crafting something special—a delicate embroidered cloth featuring patterns of crimson and gold, colors you knew he favored. Each stitch was precise, your fingers aching by the time you finished, but the thought of presenting it to Sukuna filled you with anticipation.

When you brought the finished piece to him that evening, you entered his chambers with cautious excitement, kneeling before him as he sat on his throne-like dais. “My lord,” you began softly, holding out the cloth, “I made this for you. I thought you might like it.”

Sukuna’s four crimson eyes flicked to the offering, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his tone as sharp as ever.

“You spent all day on this?” he said, his voice laced with disdain. “What use do I have for something so… trivial?”

The words hit you harder than you anticipated. You had poured your heart into the gift, hoping to please him, and now your efforts felt meaningless. You lowered your hands, clutching the cloth tightly as your vision blurred with tears you desperately tried to hold back.

“I… I just wanted to give you something,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

Sukuna’s brows furrowed at the shift in your tone. He could sense your emotions as clearly as the tension in the air, and the sight of you so visibly upset stirred something in him—something he wasn’t used to feeling.

“Tch,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Why are you crying? I didn’t tell you to do something like this.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I know. I just… I thought it would make you happy.”

Sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good at this—at softening his edges. But seeing you like this unsettled him in a way that battles and curses never could

“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but quieter now.

Reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. His gaze wasn’t as harsh as before, and for a moment, the room felt less heavy.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’m not good with… things like this.” He gestured vaguely at the cloth in your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “You… you do?”

“Yes,” he said, almost impatiently, but his tone lacked its usual edge. “I’m just not someone who knows how to handle… thoughtful gestures. But that doesn’t mean they’re wasted on me.”

You blinked, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “I just wanted to give you something that reminded you of… us. Of me.”

Sukuna’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “And you think I could forget you?”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and he chuckled lowly, clearly pleased with your reaction. He reached out, taking the cloth from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“It’s well-made,” he admitted, running his thumb over the intricate stitching. “Better than I expected.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and Sukuna leaned back, his gaze softening just slightly. “Next time, don’t exhaust yourself for my sake,” he said. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” you said softly, your earlier sadness melting away.

“You do,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Even without this.”

The warmth in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and as he set the cloth aside carefully, you knew that, in his own way, Sukuna was trying.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi Fushiguro was in a foul mood. Gojo had been pestering him all day—constant teasing, unnecessary tasks, and endless comments that pushed his patience to the brink. By the time he walked through the door, his mind was racing, and he felt like he was ready to snap at anything that moved.

You had been waiting for him to come home, your excitement bubbling as you thought about sharing the small surprise you’d planned for him: his favorite snacks arranged neatly on the coffee table and a cozy spot on the couch waiting for him to relax.

When he walked in, you greeted him with a bright smile. “Megumi! Welcome home! I set up—”

“Can you just give me a second?” he snapped, not even looking up as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag with more force than necessary.

You froze, startled by the sharpness of his tone. “Oh… I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said softly, your voice already trembling slightly.

Megumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about you, okay? I just need some space.”

Your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t even glance at the effort you’d put into making his evening better. The snacks, the cozy setup—it all felt meaningless now. “I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away, your shoulders slumping.

The sound of your soft, hurt tone stopped Megumi in his tracks. He looked up and finally noticed the care you’d put into the room—the snacks, the cozy setting, and the clear effort to make him feel better. Guilt hit him like a wave.

“Wait,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer to you. “I… I’m sorry.”

You didn’t turn to face him, your hands nervously fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It’s not fine,” Megumi said, his tone firm but remorseful. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening. “I was just trying to make you feel better,” you murmured, “but if you don’t want me here, I can—”

“No,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s been a rough day, and I let my frustration get the better of me. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were trying to do something nice for me, and I acted like an idiot.”

You stared at him for a moment, his rare vulnerability catching you off guard. “You mean that?”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “I see what you did here. It’s thoughtful, and it means a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

Your lips trembled as a small smile broke through. “I just wanted you to relax after your day.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Let me make it up to you.”

You hesitated before nodding, letting him guide you to the couch. As the two of you sat together, Megumi reached for one of the snacks you’d prepared, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly, glancing at you.

“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“For being patient with me,” he said. “And for always knowing how to make things better—even when I don’t deserve it.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned against him, letting the tension of the evening fade away. Megumi might not always get it right, but moments like this reminded you why you loved him so much.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori wasn’t the type to snap at people—he was always upbeat, kind, and quick to laugh things off. But after a long day of missions, training, and dealing with the stress of being Sukuna’s vessel, he’d finally managed to steal a rare moment of relaxation, engrossed in a video game he’d been trying to beat for weeks.

You, excited to share some news with him, entered the room without realizing how deeply focused he was. “Yuji! Guess what happened today?” you said cheerfully, walking over to him.

“Not now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the controller.

You hesitated, unsure if he’d heard you properly. “It’ll only take a second! You won’t believe—”

“I said not now!” he snapped, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard before.

The sudden harshness of his voice made you stop in your tracks. Your excitement vanished, replaced with a sinking feeling in your chest. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before mumbling, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Your voice was so soft, Yuji almost didn’t catch it. But when he heard the hurt in your tone and turned to see the way your expression had fallen, his stomach twisted with guilt.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” he started, but you were already backing away. “I’ll just… leave you alone,” you said quietly, heading toward the door.

Yuji quickly paused the game and jumped to his feet. “Wait! Don’t go!”

You stopped but didn’t turn around, your arms crossed tightly as if trying to protect yourself from the sting of his words.

Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, his face filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was really uncool of me.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t think it would make you so mad…”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I was just so caught up in the game, and I got frustrated. But that’s not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should say anything, and Yuji reached out, gently touching your arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really, really sorry. You’re way more important to me than some stupid game.”

His words made your heart ache in the best way, and you finally turned to face him fully. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, giving you that familiar, boyish grin that made it hard to stay upset. “Tell me what happened today. I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to interrupt…” you trailed off.

Yuji shook his head quickly. “Forget the game. I want to spend time with you.”

The sincerity in his voice melted away the last of your hurt, and you let yourself smile again. As you started sharing your story, Yuji sat beside you, listening intently, determined to make up for his mistake.

And when you laughed at one of his playful comments, Yuji silently promised himself to never let a moment like that happen again. You were his safe place, his reason to smile, and no game—or anything else—could ever compare.