#ALL I WANT IS TO HUG HER AND KISS HER AND GIVE HER EVERY LITTLE BIT OF LOVE I HAVE IN ME💞💟🌹💮🌹🌷🏵🌼💙💘💙💛💚💞💚💝💟❣🌹🌼🌹🏵⚢🌹���🌹👭

[kxsagi]

hiii :DD

can i request the bllk boys cuddling with y/n after a long day, but the kids decided to crash their mini-date? anyone is fine but pls include the itoshi brothers and hiori if its possible!! tysmm

“𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭”

a/n: hiii! i took a bit of a different twist on this prompt as i wrote something super similar before, but can't find it lol. the kids crash the mini cuddle date, yes, but the boys don't seem to mind it <3

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, kaiser michael, ness alexis, hiori yo

isagi yoichi

after a long practice, isagi comes home dead tired, but instantly softens when he sees you waiting on the couch. he immediately drops his bag and pulls you into his arms like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting for all day. 

you two curl up under a blanket, his arm snug around you while he mumbles about how his coach pushed them too hard and how he couldn’t stop thinking about you during drills. he buries his face into your neck, breathing you in like he’s been away for weeks instead of hours. 

the TV is on low, your movie date just starting, when you both hear the sound of tiny feet padding down the hallway. suddenly, your toddler appears, blanket trailing behind them like a cape. 

“can i sit, too?” they ask innocently, big eyes blinking at you both. isagi stiffens, because he was literally about to kiss you. you catch his panicked side-glance, trying not to laugh. 

“of course,” you say, and before isagi can protest, the kid squeezes between you two, clutching their stuffed animal. isagi awkwardly scoots over, trying to drape his arm over both you and your child now, but he’s barely holding on to the couch edge. 

just when he thinks it can’t get worse, your second child toddles in, climbing straight onto his lap with zero hesitation. isagi looks down, then back up at you with the most defeated but completely in love expression. 

he mouths, “next time, just us.” but his eyes sparkle, because honestly? he loves this chaos, even if his romantic cuddles got hijacked. 

itoshi rin

rin doesn’t give affection lightly, but when he’s had a draining day, he only wants you. you’re sitting on the bed when he walks in, and without a word, he collapses next to you, resting his head on your lap. his fingers find yours, intertwining gently, his whole body relaxing as you stroke his hair. 

it’s quiet. peaceful. he actually lets himself breathe with you. his eyelids start to droop when suddenly, the door creaks open and your daughter trots in, clutching her stuffed bunny. 

she takes one look at the scene and frowns, “you’re hogging daddy.” rin opens one eye, clearly annoyed at the intrusion, but before he can say anything she’s already climbing onto the bed, squeezing herself between you two. 

she latches onto his arm possessively, glaring at you like she just won a competition. rin sighs, his face unreadable, but he doesn’t push her away, instead he pulls her in closer. 

you’re left sitting there with your mouth slightly open, pouting at how fast you got dethroned. your daughter smirks at you in victory, hugging rin tighter. 

but rin notices. he leans just close enough to whisper in your ear, so soft it almost makes you melt: “don’t sulk. you’ll always be my favorite.” 

you catch the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips as he closes his eyes again. smug bastard. 

itoshi sae

sae’s version of winding down is minimal effort – he’s stretched out on the bed, one arm wrapped around you, scrolling idly on his phone with the other hand. his chest rises and falls calmly as you cuddle into him. he’s not a man of words, but his presence alone tells you he missed you. 

you’re just enjoying the quiet when the door creaks open. your little one shuffles in with their pillow, hair sticking up in every direction. 

“i had a bad dream,” they mumble. 

before you can even move, sae sets his phone on the nightstand, sighing softly. “come here,” he says, already lifting the blanket for them. your kid crawls in immediately, cuddling up on his other side. 

suddenly you’re sandwiched in the middle of a family cuddle. sae adjusts without complaint, resting his hand on your kid’s back as they drift off almost instantly. 

you give him a pointed look, whispering, “i thought this was supposed to be our time.” he only raises an eyebrow. 

“what, you jealous?” he murmurs flatly, pulling both you and your child closer. “you’re lucky i love you. i don’t do family sleepovers for anyone else.” 

of course he says it like it’s nothing, but your heart squeezes anyway. 

nagi seishiro

nagi loves using you as his pillow – he’s sprawled out on the couch, you stretched out on top of him while he lazily strokes your hair. he’s humming contently, mumbling about how comfy you are and how he doesn’t want to move for at least the next five hours. 

he’s just starting to drift off when a tiny voice calls out, “daddy!” before you can sit up, your kid comes barreling over and launches themselves onto the couch, bouncing right onto nagi’s stomach. 

“ugh, why now?” nagi groans, throwing his head back. he doesn’t push them off though – he just lazily adjusts, letting them plop on top of both of you. 

you’re practically smushed in the middle, nagi whining that it’s “too much work” but still refusing to let either of you move. his arm snakes around the both of you, holding you in place like he’s anchoring down his favorite possessions. 

“family DLC unlocked… too much work,” he mutters, half-asleep already. despite his complaints, his grip is secure, his thumb absentmindedly brushing circles on your kid’s back while he drifts into a nap. 

you can’t help but smile, because nagi acts lazy about it, but he’s so content when he’s got his whole world in his arms. 

mikage reo

reo plans little at-home dates whenever he can – tonight he set up a blanket fort with fairy lights, snacks, and even a bottle of wine. you’re cuddled up inside, his arm snug around your waist, his head resting on yours as he whispers about how perfect this night is. 

he’s so smug, bragging, “see? i’m the best at making you happy.” you’re about to kiss him when the curtain of the blanket fort rustles. 

your twins crawl in like mischievous little gremlins, juice boxes in hand. “what’s this?!” one gasps dramatically. “a fort without us?!” 

“nooo, this is mommy and daddy time!” reo protests, blocking them with his arms. but they’ve already bulldozed their way inside, settling down between you two. 

within seconds, your romantic night turns into a family picnic. instead of wine, reo’s pouring juice into paper cups while your twins munch happily on the snacks he prepared. 

he sulks a little, leaning his forehead against your shoulder while the kids giggle. but when he glances at you, eyes bright as you laugh along with them, he can’t help but soften. 

later, once the kids are finally asleep, he sneaks close, whispering against your ear with a grin: “we’re finishing the real date later. i’m not letting them win.” 

shidou ryusei

shidou has you pinned to the bed, arms wrapped tight around you like you’re about to escape. he’s aggressively cuddling, peppering your face with sloppy kisses while laughing, “need all your love right now, baby.” 

you’re giggling, shoving at his chest when the door slams open. “ewww!” your kid yells. “dad’s eating mom’s face again!” 

shidou freezes mid-kiss, groaning, “why do they always cockblock me??” you smack his chest, whispering his name in warning, but it’s too late, the kid’s already climbing onto the bed. 

instead of telling them to leave, shidou just huffs and drags them into the cuddle pile too, wrapping his giant arms around both of you like you’re hostages. “fine. family cuddle. but mom’s still mine, you little brat.” 

your kid just laughs, snuggling into the covers while you’re stuck in the middle, smothered between them. shidou smirks, clearly proud of himself, and kisses your temple possessively. 

“see? perfect family cuddle. now no one leaves till i say so.” 

karasu tabito

karasu doesn’t admit it, but cuddling with you is his guilty pleasure. after a long day of training and strategizing, he likes sprawling across the couch, pulling you into his chest with one arm draped lazily over your waist. he always teases you about being his “personal heating pad,” but he holds on like he’d die if you moved. 

he’s about to make some smug comment about how peaceful it finally is when your kid tiptoes in, dramatically quiet, then launches onto the couch like a rocket. 

you yelp, karasu groans, and now your kid’s wedged between you two, proudly holding their toy. “move over, i want cuddles, too!” 

karasu side-eyes you, deadpan: “... ya taught them this.” you’re trying not to laugh as your kid clings to his shirt like a little barnacle. 

he pretends to be annoyed, sighing loud and long, but his hand automatically finds the back of their head, rubbing gentle circles as they settle in. 

“fine. but i was here first,” he mutters, kissing your temple before turning his attention back to your child. you roll your eyes, because he looks way too happy to be “annoyed.” 

kaiser michael

kaiser loves his “drama king” cuddles – laying with his head on your lap, demanding affection, whining if you stop playing with his hair for even two seconds. he’s mid-rant about how exhausted he is from practice, sighing like he’s starring in a tragic play, when your kid toddles over. 

“daddy, play horsey!” they shout, climbing right on top of him. suddenly, kaiser’s being used as a jungle gym instead of your romantic cuddle partner. 

you’re laughing so hard you almost drop your phone as your kid bounces on his back, tugging at his shirt. kaiser shoots you a betrayed look, like you’re supposed to save him. 

“i was trying to have a moment here,” he grumbles, but then your kid plants a kiss on his cheek and says, “love you, daddy!” 

kaiser’s entire façade melts in an instant. he hugs them tight, hiding his smile against their hair. later, when it’s just the two of you again, he dramatically collapses back into your lap. 

“unbelievable,” he pouts. “stolen by my own child. you’re supposed to love me more than them, remember?” you kiss his forehead, and he perks up immediately. 

ness alexis

ness is the sweetest cuddle partner – always tucking you under his chin, swaying you gently like he’s rocking you to sleep. he hums little melodies while stroking your back, whispering about how good it feels to just hold you close after a rough day. 

you’re wrapped up in the warmest cocoon when your little one sneaks in with their blanket and stuffed animal, eyes wide and hopeful. “can i come, too?” 

ness looks torn – he really wanted alone time with you, but he can’t say no to those eyes. he smiles, nods, and helps them climb into bed. now you’re squished between your two softest loves. 

your kid clings to ness, burying their face in his chest. he melts instantly, hugging them tight while still keeping one arm snug around your waist. 

“guess i’ve been replaced,” you joke, but ness shakes his head immediately. “never,” he whispers, leaning over your child to kiss your cheek. “you’re my everything. this–” he looks at your kid, now fast asleep – “is just our bonus happiness.” 

he says it so earnestly you nearly cry on the spot. 

hiori yo

hiori’s cuddle sessions are pure peace. he sets his phone aside, lays down with you under the blankets, and tangles his fingers with yours while humming softly. he doesn’t say much, just buries his face in your shoulder, soaking in the comfort. 

you’re drifting off together when the bedroom door creaks. your little one shuffles in, rubbing their eyes. “can i sleep here?” 

hiori sits up instantly, worried. “bad dream?” he asks gently. your kid nods, and he pats the bed without hesitation. they crawl in, settling right between you two. 

hiori smiles softly, pulling the blanket over all three of you. your child falls asleep almost immediately, tiny hand resting on his chest. 

he watches them for a moment, brushing their hair back tenderly before glancing at you. “they look so much like you,” he whispers, voice full of warmth. 

you tease him for being sappy, but he just kisses your forehead. “don’t care. i love it.” he holds both of you close like he never wants to let go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[haizononon]

Hi hi!! Hope all is good. I keep rereading your writings and I feel all warm inside every time.

I know you have alphabets with Sho but the drunken ramblings made me think… First Kiss w/ Sho????

first kiss w/ sho haizono

note; hiiii! i'm always so happy to hear that <3 here you go! idm elaborating on things i've written for the alphabets.

contains: friends to lovers, veeeery cheesy.

Your cheeks hurt from the cold breeze and how much you've been smiling all day, and yet it wouldn't stop the corner of your lips from lifting up. Thankfully, the helmet Sho had offered you, one that he had chosen just for you, managed to warm your face a little as the ghoul drove you to your last destination for the night.

The two of you had been driving around for hours visiting some shops, restaurants, taking small breaks to stretch your legs and talk... It had been an extremely fun day, to the point that you were sure this was one of the most wonderful memories you've had this whole year, even before Darwick.

To end the date, because the albino had specified that it was indeed one instead of a casual hangout between friends when he invited you out, you decided on a park that would be empty at this hour, a nice place with many trees and not much light pollution.

Sho helped you down, his hand cold but familiar under your palm, as he made sure you wouldn't trip over anything due to the lack of street lamps. The two of you leaned against Bonnie, the bike's engine letting out a soft purr as you looked up at the sky.

"Hey." After a few minutes of silence, you broke it. "Do you think Leo is going to be pissy tomorrow?"

The ghoul raised an eyebrow at your sudden question. "Why?"

"Because you've been ignoring him all day, unless you have someone else who blows up your phone?"

It had been only for a moment when he left for the bathroom at a restaurant, his phone's screen lighting up very often with notifications. No wonder he had muted it after he picked you up.

He snorts. "Nah, just Leo, and you." The amused glance he sends you is enough to make your heart race, he looked unfairly handsome when smiling like that. "You almost beat his record that one time."

"Hey! I was just worried about Bonnie!" Said artifact purrs louder, as if laughing at you as well. You cross your arms over your chest, attempting to seem mad.

"Yeah, yeah. That was very sweet of you, senpai."

There's a softness in his voice that reminds him of the way he talks about Bonnie, making the flush on her cheeks darken. Her arms lower, now just loosely hugging herself against the cold, the action not escaping his observant gaze.

"Too cold? Come over here— I'll warm you up." He was about to say it was a joke, like he usually did to hide how badly he actually wanted that, but you didn't give him a chance, immediately taking the offer and leaning against his side.

"Thanks." You sigh, pleased for the warmth. "I should've grabbed a thicker jacket..."

A part of him was glad you didn't, but he couldn't say that.

"Don't blame me if you catch a cold."

"If I do, I'll blow your phone until you bring me some soup."

The two of you laugh. One of his arms slowly moves to wrap around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer, his grip light enough that you'd be able to shake him off easily if you wanted to.

Some time passes in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's presence. Then, you suddenly make eye-contact, coincidentally looking at the other at the same time.

The ghoul's free hand moves by itself, slow as it reaches to cradle your face, cold thumb caressing your flushed cheek. This close, even while only illuminated by moonlight, you're able to see the slight furrow of his brow, so similar yet different from his expression when he's angry.

"... This okay?" There was the soft voice again, his breath warm and mixing with yours as he leans closer. His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, as if to specify what he means.

You can see it in his eyes that he's doing his best to stay still, to wait for your answer instead of acting on what his body is screaming for him to do. It's a quiet yet intense kind of yearn that makes you feel like you're the only one in the world he's looking at like that.

"Yes..." You whisper your answer back, and he doesn't hesitate to finally brush his lips against yours.

It's a soft, gentle kiss. Like someone taking the first bite of their favorite dessert, wanting to take their time to enjoy the taste, his lips moving slowly but with purpose.

After a moment, you need to pull away. You make eye-contact once more, and Sho knows what you're waiting for. So, ignoring the heat on his face, he gives it to you, because he can never say no.

"I love you."

It's as gentle as the breeze, something so soft that feels incredibly intimate. It just feels right for him to let down some of his walls in front of you, it's worth the unfamiliarity of vulnerability when he sees you smile.

"I've never seen you this flustered before." Your voice is warm, a stark contrast to the hands that reach for his face. He leans down just enough so you can cup his cheeks, and it's then that he can't help but internally admit that Leo was right; you had him wrapped around your little finger.

"Me? Pfft, you aren't looking much better."

You playfully stick out your tongue in response, and the ghoul moves closer, smirking at the surprise in your face when your noses brush against each other's.

"Now... isn't it your turn?" The hand around your shoulders drops, wrapping instead around your waist. "I've waited enough, senpai."

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 26)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist. but, some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: unfortunately, playing for love is coming to an end. also, chapter 27 will have a time-jump and will be the final one! enjoyyy 🥹😭

word count: 6.0k

warnings: none.

next: chapter 27 (final chapter coming out soon)

tag list: @avalentina @coffeevacation @destinyg237 @obi-wansgirl @luckysoullove @barcelonaloverf1life

They had returned from London only a few days earlier, a goodbye still lingering in Adeline’s chest. Evelyn had hugged her tightly at the airport, arms reluctant to let go of Lily, and since then she had been calling, almost daily — sometimes under the excuse of wanting updates on her granddaughter, sometimes to ask how Adeline was feeling with the pregnancy, and sometimes just to hear her daughter’s voice after, many, years apart. Stella had come back too, flopping onto her own couch at the flat with a dramatic sigh, only to tease Adeline mercilessly when she realized her best friend wasn’t moving back in with her. “I gave you space, and you traded me in for a footballer with a mansion.” she’d joked, though her hand had instinctively gone to Adeline’s stomach a dozen times, already claiming her role as overprotective auntie to a baby who hadn’t even been born.

Between laughter, packing boxes, and Stella’s commentary, the flat that had once been their shared home slowly emptied, all of Adeline’s things making their way into Mason’s car and toward the house that would now hold the next chapter of their lives.

Now, the hallway was cluttered with half-open suitcases and a line of taped-up boxes that had already lost their battle against Lily’s curiosity. The house — bigger than anything Adeline ever imagined herself living in — still smelled faintly of fresh paint and laundry detergent, Mason’s ritual before she and Lily moved in.

Adeline sat cross-legged on the living room rug, tugging folded sweaters out of a suitcase while Lily bounced between piles, announcing what each piece of clothing should be.

“This one’s for the baby!” Lily declared, holding up one of Mason’s sweatshirts that nearly swallowed her whole.

Adeline laughed, leaning back on her hands. “I don’t think the baby’s going to need that, bug.”

“But, it’s soft.” she said matter-of-factly, burying her face in the fabric. “Babies like soft.”

From across the room, Mason groaned, bent over a box of kitchen stuff. “Oi! That’s my good hoodie, Lils. You can’t just give me away to the baby already.”

“You’re already the baby’s.” she answered simply, clutching the sweatshirt to her chest.

Adeline’s cheeks warmed, and Mason caught her eye, smirk tugging at his mouth. That glance — amused, soft, full of something unspoken — told her he was loving every second of this chaos.

Ace padded over to Adeline, circling her once before dropping his head onto her lap with a huff, as if checking she was still there. His amber eyes tracked every time she bent too far forward, every little move.

“You’re worse than Mason.” she whispered into his fur.

“I heard that.” Mason straightened, wiping his hands on his joggers as he walked over. “And, don’t lump me in with him, love. He’s bossier.”

Ace wagged his tail, as if proving Mason right.

Adeline rolled her eyes, but, she couldn’t stop the smile tugging her lips. “It’s like having two bodyguards.”

“Three.” Mason corrected quickly, crouching beside her, hand brushing deliberately over her knee. His voice dipped softer so only she could hear. “If you count Lily — though she’s a bit reckless.”

“I’m not that!” Lily shouted from behind a pile of books, stomping one foot for emphasis. “I’m big.”

Mason bit back a laugh, resting his forehead briefly against Adeline’s temple before kissing her cheek. “See? Big.”

Mason let Lily get distracted with stacking books into what she called a “castle” and tugged gently at Adeline’s hand.

“I want to show you something.” he murmured, eyes flicking toward the hallway.

She arched a brow, but, let him pull her up, brushing dog hair from her leggings as Ace stayed sprawled, watching them leave.

Mason guided her into the room at the far end of the hall, pushing open the door with a little too much ceremony.

Adeline leaned against the doorframe, heart catching in her throat. “You’ve been busy.”

Mason rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “Didn’t want you walking in here and thinking I hadn’t thought about it. About the baby.” His eyes softened at her stomach, then lifted back to hers. “Still needs a proper touch.”

She stepped further inside, fingertips brushing the wall. “It feels real now.” she admitted, quietly.

Mason came up behind her, arms sliding around her waist as his chin rested on her shoulder. “Go on then, what d’you reckon? Boy or girl?”

Adeline tilted her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Girl. Definitely. And, she’ll boss you around just like Lily does.”

He groaned, dramatic. “Brilliant. Outnumbered. No chance for me at all.”

She laughed softly. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t love it.”

“Sure.” he conceded with a grin. “But, if it’s a boy, he’s got a season ticket already waiting. United t-shirt before he can even talk.”

Adeline arched a brow. “And, what if he doesn’t like football?”

Mason squinted at her, mock-serious. “Not possible. Not with my blood.”

She leaned back against him, teasing. “Hm. What if your son grows up and says he supports Manchester City?”

He clutched his chest like she’d stabbed him. “Addie, that’s cruel. Don’t even say that in this house.”

Her laugh bubbled out, warm and full. “Relax, I’ll make sure the baby cheers for whoever makes you happy.”

His voice dipped, softer now. “Doesn’t matter, really. As long as they’re ours.”

She pressed her hand over his, where it rested against her bump, and her throat tightened. “You’re going to be a good dad, Mase.”

He kissed her temple, steady and certain. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the silence filled with the weight of what was ahead — messy, unpredictable, but… theirs. Mason brushed his lips against her forehead before pulling her closer.

“Season starts tomorrow.” he murmured against her hair. “It’s about to get busy again. Travel, training, matches… but, I want you there. Both of you. All of you.”

Adeline pulled back just enough to search his face. “Babe.”

“I mean it.” he cut in, gently. “First home game. Bring Lily. It’ll be her first time at Old Trafford, yeah? She’ll love it. And… I’ll invite my family. Feels like the right moment.”

Adeline’s breath caught. “To tell them?”

He nodded, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Yeah. I don’t want to hide it. Not you, not the baby. I want them to see… this is my life now. You are.”

Her throat tightened, and she blinked hard, the words heavier than she’d expected. “You’re sure?”

Mason’s mouth curved into the softest smile, steady and certain. “I’ve never been more sure.”

From down the hall, Lily’s voice rang out: “Mase! My castle needs a flag!”

Adeline nudged him toward the door, smiling. “Go on then, Dad. Your kingdom awaits.”

(…)

Manchester, late August, carried that odd mix of warmth and unpredictability — the kind of day where the sky was mostly blue, but, clouds hung at the edges, threatening to spill rain at any moment. The air was cool enough for a cardigan, warm enough to leave it open and Mason drove with the windows cracked just enough to let the breeze in. It had been a week and, today, they’d fully settled into their new rhythm — Mason back into the thick of his football season, Adeline returning to her shifts at the hospital and Lily starting school with the kind of excitement that never seemed to wear off.

When they pulled up outside the little brick-front school, Lily was already bouncing in her car seat.

“Mommy, quick! Or I’ll be late!” she urged, kicking her feet, her curls bobbing.

Adeline laughed, unbuckling her daughter and taking her small hand. “Alright, lady, don’t rush me. You’re acting like you’re the teacher here.”

Lily giggled, tugging her along. Mason watched them from the car, arms crossed on the wheel, his grin softening as he took in the sight: Adeline with her ponytail, a hand brushing her belly, absentmindedly, and Lily practically skipping next to her.

Stella was already waiting at the school gates, waving with that mock sternness she always used, when she was about to tease Adeline later.

Adeline bent low as they reached the entrance, smoothing down Lily’s hair that had already rebelled against the morning brush. “Be good, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be the best.” Lily corrected, giving Adeline a dramatic kiss on the cheek. Then, with a mischievous glance at the car, she skipped back and leaned into Mason’s open window. “Bye, Masey!” Then, gave a kiss on his cheek.

“Cheers, Lils.” Mason chuckled, ruffling her curls. “Go on, don’t keep your mates waiting.” Then, Lily scampered off to Stella, who gave Adeline a warm look, before ushering the little girl inside.

When Adeline slid back into the passenger seat, Mason was waiting with that soft, boyish smile that always made her stomach do flips.

“What?” she asked, buckling in, cheeks already warming.

“Nothing.” he said, still looking at her with that infuriating tenderness. “Just… watching you two. You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Shit, I hate how pregnancy makes me emotional.” Her face flushed, and she rolled her eyes, muttering. “Don’t make me cry.”

Mason leaned over, kissing her before she could protest, his lips brushing hers with gentle insistence. She pulled back, shy and red-faced, swatting at his chest. “Mase…”

“What? Blame it on the hormones again.” he teased, starting the car as her blush deepened.

They drove on, city streets unfolding — the bustle of commuters, shopkeepers opening doors, the faint smell of coffee and baked bread carried by the morning air. Finally, Mason slowed in front of the hospital, the tall building, glowing, under the patchy sun

When Mason pulled up in front of the hospital, Adeline didn’t move right away. She just sat there, staring at the building, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag. Her nerves were obvious — the quiet tapping of her nails against the leather, the way she exhaled too quickly.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know what waited for her inside — she’d been doing this job for years. But, everything felt different now. Different because she was carrying Mason’s child, she’d just left behind the flat she’d built her little world in, moving into his sprawling house, that was now theirs and Mason had become, deeply, stitched into her days that being away from him suddenly felt... heavier.

And, then, there were the hormones — making every thought sharper, every feeling louder, every goodbye harder.

“Hey.” Mason murmured, leaning across the console until his chin rested lightly on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, love.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, but, her eyes betrayed her. She turned towards him slowly, like she wasn’t ready to let the world in just yet, and then — without thinking — she slid across the seat and folded herself into his arms.

Mason let out a little surprised chuckle as she practically climbed on his lap, but, he didn’t hesitate. He gathered her up against his chest, tucking her in tightly, one hand running up and down her back while the other cupped the back of her head.

“God, Mase…” Her voice was muffled against his hoodie, soft and shaky. “I don’t want to get out.”

“You don’t have to.” he murmured into her hair, rocking her slightly like he was cradling her. “Stay as long as you need.”

She clung tighter, arms looped around his neck, her knees curling against the seat. It was almost childish, the way she burrowed into him — althought, it made him smile, because it was so unfiltered, so her.

“I’ve gotten used to you being there all the time.” she whispered, voice breaking. “It feels… safe.”

Mason pressed a kiss to her temple, then, another along her hairline, lingering. “Then, I’ll stay. Safe doesn’t end when I drop you off, Ady. You carry it with you — me with you.”

She let out a watery laugh, lifting her head just enough to look at him. “Don’t say things like that, you’ll make me cry in front of the nurses.”

He grinned, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “Let them see. They’ll only know how lucky I am.”

She groaned, half embarrassed, half melting, and buried her face back into the crook of his neck. Mason just held her tighter, like he had no plans of letting her go either.

Finally, with a long breath, she loosened her grip, but, only barely. He smirked, murmuring. “If you hang on any tighter, babe, I really will have to carry you in there.”

Her laugh against his chest was small, also real, and when she finally slid back into her seat, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes still shining. Mason leaned in to kiss her softly, lingering as though sealing the hug into her skin.

“Go on.” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

(...)

Adeline’s feet ached by the time she left the hospital. Her shift had stretched longer than expected, the kind of day where time blurred between one patient and the next. She told herself she should go straight home and collapse into bed, but, her body disagreed. It had been whispering all afternoon about one very specific thing: chocolate-covered pretzels and green olives. Together.

Ridiculous. But, the craving was sharp and insistent, and she found herself steering toward the small supermarket two streets away instead of home. She texted Mason on the way in:

Adeline: My shift dragged. Stella already picked up Lily. Can you meet me at the market? I’m craving something stupid.

Mason: On my way. Don’t buy the entire store before I get there.

By the time she reached the snack aisle, she had a basket hooked on her arm, already heavier than she intended — pretzels, chocolate bars, two tubs of olives, and, for some reason, a packet of crisps she didn’t remember picking up.

That’s, when she noticed them.

Three girls lingered by the end of the aisle, maybe early twenties, arms linked, pretending to debate between two brands of cereal. But, every few seconds, their eyes flicked to her, whispers exchanged with smiles that weren’t unkind. Adeline tightened her grip on the basket strap, pulse jumping.

She wasn’t used to this. Not really. People usually stopped Mason, not her.

When she moved to the self-checkout, the trio finally approached.

“Hi—sorry.” one of them started, cheeks flushed. “You’re… Adeline, right? Mason Mount’s girlfriend?”

The word girlfriend hit differently than she expected — warm and dizzying all at once. She shifted awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi… yes. That’s me.”

The girls exchanged glances, beaming. “We didn’t mean to bother you, we just — well, we saw some photos of him back at training today, and we’re huge fans.”

Adeline smiled, nervously, glancing at her basket. “Oh, you’ve been seeing him at training?”

The girls nodded eagerly. “Yeah… we saw some photos, and we were pretty sure that’s you with him when he was recovering. You’re the physiotherapist, right?”

Adeline laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guilty as charged. He’s really good at making it look like he’s barely even hurt, though.”

The girls leaned closer, eyes wide. “So… you actually helped him get back on the pitch?”

“Yes.” she admitted, smiling. “And, if you see him running around like that, trust me, it’s not magic — just a lot of hard work. I might have had a hand in keeping him upright.”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She peeked at it, grinning. Mason.

“I'm here, love. Where are you?” he asked.

Adeline pressed the phone to her ear. “Snack aisle, near the crisps. Hurry, before someone starts looking too interested in my chocolate.”

Mason’s voice came through low and calm. “Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself. Also, you've got some admirers.” she whispered, glancing at the girls, who were watching her curiously.

One of them whispered, almost breathless, “Wait… is that really him?”

Adeline nodded, smiling. “Yep. That’s him. Don’t worry, he’s not scary… just tall, and maybe a little intimidating if you’re not used to footballers.”

The girls giggled, whispering among themselves, excitement clear on their faces. “Wow… we didn’t think we’d get to meet both of you.”

Adeline shrugged, trying to look casual. “Don’t worry, he’s a sweetheart, but, he’s probably exhausted from training.”

Just as Adeline's finishing her sentence, Mason appeared at the end of the aisle, sneakers clicking, softly, against the floor. Even carrying the subtle weight of a long training session, there's calm, and the tired lines in his face softened when he saw Adeline.

His eyes found hers immediately, and he reached out, brushing a hand lightly against her arm — that warm, reassuring touch that made her chest flutter. “Hey.” he murmured, just for her, before letting his attention shift to the girls.

“Hi.” one of the girls said, cheeks flushed, slightly. “We… we really like you. We’ve been following your training and matches. It’s amazing how you play.”

Mason’s smile was gentle, patient and unpretentious. “Thank you. That really means a lot, I'm glad you're enjoying it.” he said sincerely, giving a small nod.

He leaned slightly toward them, listening as the girls asked quick questions, offering, short, kind responses, with no need to overwhelm or dominate the conversation. He made sure Adeline was included, placing a gentle hand near her lower back as if, silently, he lets her know he had her. The girls noticed, nodding with smiles — it was clear how attentive he was, even tired.

When the brief moment ended, Mason stepped back, brushing imaginary crumbs from his pants, letting Adeline hand over her phone for a quick picture. Once the girls thanked them and walked off, he turned to her with a playful sparkle despite the fatigue.

“I’m genuinely impressed you had the energy to come here after your shift.” he said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I’d be horizontal by now.”

Adeline laughed, cheeks warming. “Hormones, babe.” she murmured.

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Right… I’ll let you get away with that this time.” His tone was playful, tired, but, full of warmth. “Now, let’s get out of this fluorescent lighting before I fall asleep standing up.”

Adeline snuggled closer as they walked toward the checkout, smiling despite herself. Even tired, even public, he had this way of making everything feel safe, easy, and… theirs.

(...)

The hum of Old Trafford hit Adeline long before they stepped inside. The air outside the stadium was alive with chants, red scarves waving like flames, fans in Manchester United jerseys spilling out of pubs and gathering around the gates. It was electric, overwhelming — the kind of energy that could lift you off the ground if you let it. Mason had insisted she come, pressing his credentials into her hand that morning with a soft, but, firm look. “I want you there.”

Then, here she is — her second time in the stadium, but, the first with Lily bouncing beside her, hand clasped in Stella’s as her mother walked close on her other side.

Lily was practically bouncing beside Stella, her tiny “Mount 7” jersey almost swallowing her frame. Her curls bobbed with every step, glittery headband slipping slightly.

“Mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing at a group of fans holding banners. “They got Mason’s name! Big letters!”

Adeline smiled, tugging her jacket closer around herself. “They do, bug. They’re cheering for him.”

Lily tilted her head, serious for a moment. “But… we’re cheering louder, right?”

Stella laughed, giving her a squeeze. “Much louder. He’ll hear us all the way down on the pitch.”

As they approached the family reserved entrance, stewards in United jackets welcomed them with polite smiles, checking their passes. Adeline’s pulse kicked as they were ushered in, past ropes and glass doors that separated them from the thousands of fans outside. The sounds of the crowd still pulsed through the walls — a heartbeat of chants, songs and cheers.

The walk through the private corridors was a blur of framed photographs of legends, plush carpets muffling their steps and the faint sound of stadium staff moving about. Lily’s shoes squeaked with each bounce, her energy infectious.

“Do you feel it, mommy?” Lily whispered at one point, tugging her sleeve. “It’s like the walls are shaking. Mase’s gonna win.”

Adeline’s throat tightened with a strange mix of nerves and pride. She pressed a kiss to Lily’s temple. “I hope so, love.”

When they finally reached the booth, the door was already open, voices spilling out in laughter and warmth. Sophia was the first to spot them, perched comfortably with baby Mateo in her arms. “Finally! There you are!” she said brightly, carefully shifting the baby so she could stand and hug Adeline one-armed. Mateo cooed, chubby cheeks flushed pink, tiny fists batting the air.

Lily’s eyes widened. “Oh… he’s so small!” she whispered, instantly drawn to him.

“Five months.” Sophia said, proudly, lowering herself so Lily could peek closer. “But, he thinks he’s the boss already, don’t you, Mateo?”

The room smelled of coffee and popcorn, warm with chatter. Mason’s parents smiled immediately — his mum pulling Adeline into a firm, heartfelt hug, his dad crouching down to greet Lily with exaggerated delight. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lucky charm.” he said, winking.

Lily giggled, shy, but, glowing, already pulling out the little homemade sign she’d made for Mason and showing it to Summer.

Adeline stood back for a moment, letting it all wash over her — the warmth, the laughter, the effortless love in the room. It was different from the chaos of the stadium outside; this was family, cocooned above the pitch. For a heartbeat, she forgot about the photographers, the eyes that might be searching for her.

Her mother, though, looked slightly out of place, lingering by the door until Mason’s mom turned with open arms. “You must be Evelyn.” she said warmly. “We’ve heard so much about you. Come in, come in.”

Evelyn blinked, surprised by the easy welcome, then, smiled, a little stiff, although, genuine. “It’s lovely to meet you all. Thank you for having us.”

“Oh, please.” Sophia chimed in, already balancing Mateo back into his stroller. “This box is basically chaos and family — you fit right in.”

Adeline exhaled, tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying easing from her shoulders. For once, it didn’t feel like she was dragging her past into Mason’s present. It felt like… they were weaving something new.

And then, Lily pressed her little hands to the glass, spotting the players warming up below. “There he is!” she shouted, voice ringing through the booth. “Mommy, he’s waving at us!”

Adeline glanced down just in time to see Mason stretch on the pitch, his gaze flicking briefly upward. And, sure enough, he raised his hand in their direction, a tiny, deliberate wave. Photographers caught it instantly, lenses turning toward the family booth. But, Lily didn’t notice. She just squealed, bouncing too hard Stella had to hold her steady.

Stella noticed too, lowering her voice as she leaned closer. “They’re already on you, babes.”

Adeline stiffened, instinctively reaching for Lily’s hand. But, before she could respond, Mason’s mom slid an arm around her shoulders, steady and reassuring. “Don’t worry about them, darling. They’ll get bored once the match kicks off. Right now, they’re just curious.”

Evelyn, quiet until then, added gently, “Let them take their pictures. All they’ll see is family cheering him on. That’s nothing to hide from.”

Adeline glanced at her mother, surprised by the unexpected steadiness in her tone. For the first time all day, she didn’t feel like she had to shrink herself or apologize for being here.

And then Lily piped up again, tugging her sleeve, completely unfazed by the lenses aimed their way. “Mommy, can I hold my sign up now? So Mason can see it?”

Adeline crouched down, smoothing the paper in Lily’s little hands. “Not yet, love. Wait until he comes closer to our side. Then you can wave it as high as you want.”

Lily nodded, determined, before whispering with a grin. “He’s gonna love it.”

Adeline pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, letting the warmth of the booth — the laughter and the unconditional welcome — drown out the flashes outside. 

The game was tense from the start, the kind of match that made the air feel heavy in Old Trafford. Thirteen minutes in, Arsenal broke through. A corner swung deep, chaos in the box, and Calafiori rose above the crowd of red shirts. His header snapped into the net before Onana could react. 0–1. The away end erupted, white shirts surging in celebration.

From the family booth, Adeline winced as the roar rattled across the stadium. Lily tugged her sleeve, wide-eyed. “Why they shouting, mommy?”

“Because they scored, bug.” Adeline explained softly, even as her own chest tightened. “But, United’s still got time.”

Time, yes. But, not rhythm.

United fought back with everything they had — Garnacho cutting in and testing the keeper, Rashford trying to force space, Bruno gesturing furiously for composure. Mason, everywhere at once, tracked back into midfield, pushed forward into space, demanded the ball, and still it wasn’t enough. Every pass felt an inch too short, every shot a second too late.

The frustration seeped through the stands — a hum of groans, nervous whistles, the occasional burst of encouragement trying to push them forward. Adeline could feel Mason’s exhaustion in the way he moved: sprinting to close down, clapping his teammates shoulders, trying to rally when his own jaw was clenched tight.

By the seventy-fifth minute, Old Trafford was boiling. United pressed harder, crowding the Arsenal box, and still nothing came. Every Arsenal clearance landed safe. Every United chance seemed swallowed whole. Mason even had one clean strike just outside the box, but, it flew over the bar, his groan audible even from the booth.

When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard still read 0–1. Arsenal celebrated with fists raised, their fans echoing around the stands. United’s players slumped into themselves, Mason standing still for a long moment before dragging a hand down his face.

Adeline’s heart twisted. She could almost hear his thoughts from here: not enough, not sharp enough, not what they needed.

As the teams filtered off, Mason lingered near midfield, exchanging a brief, tired handshake with Bruno before turning toward the tunnel. Just before disappearing inside, he caught sight of a familiar figure — Declan, jogging over in Arsenal red, still catching his breath.

“Hard one, mate.” Declan said, voice low and genuine, as he extended a hand.

Mason took it, their palms clasping firmly. “Yeah.” he exhaled, sweat dripping down his temple. “Didn’t get it right tonight.”

Declan’s mouth pulled into a sympathetic half-smile. “First one back’s always like that. You’ll find your stride. You always do.”

The two shared a quick pat on the shoulder — old friends, rivals for ninety minutes, but, brothers after. Then, they disappeared side by side into the tunnel, the roar of the stadium fading behind them.

(...)

The corridor outside the family lounge was busy, but, quieter than the roaring stands had been. Staff carried equipment past and a few familiar faces from the players families waited with bags and jackets, chatting softly. Mason walked out with his kit bag slung across his shoulder, hair still damp, a tired look tugging at his features. It wasn’t the start he’d wanted — not against Arsenal, not at Old Trafford — and, though he’d shaken Declan’s hand with a grin, the frustration still clung to him.

He found them instantly. His parents stood with Evelyn, making small talk, Sophia adjusting Mateo in his stroller, Stella holding a fast-asleep Lily on her shoulder. Even from a few steps away, Mason could see his the little one's jersey bunched around her knees, curls damp against Stella’s jacket. Something in his chest softened, even if his jaw stayed tight.

“Hi, love.” his mom said, warmly, stepping forward to hug him. His dad clapped his back, Sophia squeezed his arm and smiled and Stella tilted her chin toward him with her usual teasing grin. “Tough one.” she said, quietly, careful not to wake Lily.

“Yeah.” Mason managed with a small huff, shifting his bag. He gave Mateo a little grin — the baby cooed like he’d been waiting for Mason — and then, greeted Evelyn, who gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

It was all nice. Familiar. Safe. But, it was when his eyes found Adeline that something inside him really loosened.

She was standing a little back, letting everyone else have their turn, hands folded in front of her. There was no forced smile, no attempt at pretending. She just looked at him with that steady, soft warmth that reached him where words couldn’t.

And, before Mason knew it, she was moving toward him.

He dropped his bag by his feet as she stepped into his arms, her smaller frame fitting against him like she’d been meant to be there all along. She held him close, long enough for the sound of the corridor to fade a little, long enough for him to feel his shoulders actually drop. When she kissed his cheek, it was so simple, but, it melted every ounce of tension he’d been holding onto since the final whistle.

“You did well, babe.” she murmured against his ear, her voice so calm it almost undid him. “I’m proud of you.”

Mason let out a breath that felt like it had been stuck in his chest for ninety minutes. He leaned back just enough to look at her, searching her face. “Didn’t feel like it out there.” he admitted, voice low.

“It's the first game of the season.” she said softly, brushing her hand down his arm like she was smoothing out the edges of his frustration. “There are plenty more. And, you were brilliant, Mase. I saw it.”

He huffed a laugh, tilting his head. “Don’t think anyone else did.”

“Well...” she smiled, her eyes shining in that way that always disarmed him. “I’m not anyone else.”

That warmth — steady, unwavering — hit him harder than the roar of Old Trafford ever could. A year ago, he hadn’t known what he was missing.

Now, he couldn’t imagine not having it.

Before he could answer, a little sound stirred against Stella’s shoulder. Lily blinked awake, rubbing her eyes with the back of her fist. The moment she saw Mason, her face lit up through her sleepiness.

“Masey!” she mumbled, arms already reaching out.

Stella passed her carefully into his arms, and Mason held her close, her curls tickling his chin. She yawned big and dramatic, then whispered. “Did you win?”

He smiled, kissing her hair. “Not today, bug.”

“That’s okay.” she said instantly, laying her head on his shoulder. “You’ll win next time.”

Mason closed his eyes for a beat, holding her, Adeline still close, family all around. No — it wasn’t the dream start. But, right here, in this little corner of Old Trafford, he realized it didn’t matter. With them, everything already felt like a win.

(...)

The house smelled faintly of roasted chicken and fresh bread, the lingering warmth of the afternoon, slowly, settling over the rooms. The chatter from the living room bubbled through the corridors, a mix of laughter, playful teasing and the occasional clink of glasses. Lily had already fallen asleep, curled up against Stella’s shoulder on the couch, a soft rise and fall of her chest echoing the quiet rhythm of the room.

Adeline lingered near the kitchen doorway, her hands clasped together, heart pounding in a way that had little to do with the game and everything to do with the secret she was carrying. Mason noticed, instantly, stepping closer with that calm, that always made her feel like she could breathe again.

“You okay?” he asked softly, one hand brushing hers in a reassuring touch. “Everyone’s in a good mood. They’re going to be thrilled.”

Adeline bit her lip. “I know… I just… I’ve never done this before. I don’t know if I’ll get it right. Or if they’ll even react the way I hope.”

Mason tilted his head, his eyes warm and certain. “Adeline… look at me. You’re amazing, and this… this little one of ours? They’re going to have the best start. And, they’re going to know love, more than I ever could have hoped for.” Mason’s smile was small, quiet, but, full of pride and support that she could feel it like a shield around her. 

“You don’t have to say it alone, love.” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

The group in the living room had just settled into a casual debate over the game. Mason’s mom was animatedly praising one of the younger players, while his dad shook his head with a grin. Sophia bounced baby Mateo lightly in her arms and Kai leaned back in the armchair. Summer was at Evelyn’s side, chattering about everything and nothing, her small hands fidgeting with a coaster. And then, the doorbell had interrupted them — Ben, grinning from ear to ear, showing up as a surprise, just minutes ago.

Mason cleared his throat, a quiet command for attention that made everyone glance up. “Everyone… if I could just have your ears for a second?” His voice carried that calm authority that could quiet the room without raising volume.

“What’s this about?” Tony asked, eyebrows raised, but, curiosity softening his tone.

Adeline felt Mason’s hand squeeze hers, gently. She drew in a breath, steadying herself. “I… I have something to tell you all.” she began, voice slightly shaky but gaining strength with every word. Mason gave her a small, encouraging nod.

“We’re… expecting a baby.” she said, letting the words float into the room.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then Mason’s dad face broke into a wide grin, arms opening as he pulled Mason into a hug. “Well, about time you two made us proud!” he laughed, voice thick with joy. Debby’s eyes shimmered as she embraced Adeline warmly. “Oh, darling… this is wonderful news! You’re going to be amazing.”

Summer squealed and darted forward, trying to wrap her small arms around Adeline’s waist. “A baby! Are we going to play together?” she asked breathlessly, cheeks flushed with excitement.

Sophia’s smile was radiant as she adjusted Mateo in her arms to reach out a small wave. “Congratulations! Mateo’s going to have a little playmate soon.” she teased, softly. Kai laughed from his chair, nudging her, gently.

Ben clapped his hands, grin wide. “About time, Mase! I was beginning to think you were going to keep all the fun to yourself!”

Adeline laughed softly, feeling the warmth of every pair of eyes on her, every smile, every embrace. Mason’s hand stayed firmly at her lower back, thumb brushing soothing circles over her hip. He leaned close and whispered, voice low and gentle. “See? I told you. Nothing to worry about.”

Her chest swelled with relief and love, the tension from weeks of secrecy melting away.“All of this… it’s perfect.” she whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Mason’s smile softened into something almost vulnerable, the kind of quiet happiness that only comes when you know, without a doubt, that everything you’ve been working for is finally here. “Perfect.” he echoed, resting his forehead briefly against hers. “Because you’re here.”

The room erupted again, voices mingling in a tapestry of congratulations, teasing about names and speculation about whether the baby would follow Mason’s love for football or take after Adeline in some surprising way. Summer, oblivious to decorum, started a playful cheer for “Baby Mount” dragging some of the adults into laughter.

Adeline sank into the moment, arms around Mason, heart full. She let herself watch him laugh with his family, hold her close and for the first time in months, feel utterly at peace. Even with the earlier tension of the season, the pressures of his career and the uncertainties of her own life, it all felt lighter now. 

This — this family, this love, this tiny new life she and Mason had created — was enough. More than enough.

(…)

[uponawhitehorse13]

Nemu Kurotsuchi SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Nemu does not have any experience with affection at all. She will spend most of her time just standing behind you, not speaking unless spoken to.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Nemu’s friendship mostly involves attending the same activities as you and silently standing there.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Not familiar with what cuddling is at first. When you two try it for the first time you both quickly learn she enjoys being held a lot.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nemu is scarily good at cleaning but her cooking is very strange to say the least.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

She would thank you for “participating in the experiment” and promptly never speak to you again.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Nemu does not understand marriage. After a thorough explanation from her friends she somehow both knows less about it and knows she would be ecstatic if you proposed.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Nemu is a bit too gentle and struggles to take a stance even against things she’s very uncomfortable with.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She does not know how to initiate hugs despite being a big fan of them. She will just stare at you with a blank expression and her eyes wide open.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Love is a concept Nemu struggles to understand. Mayuri isn’t helpful, describing it as “hormonal nonsense idiots give too much meaning” and the definitions from her friends at the Shinigami Women’s Association are too varied to be helpful. When she does say it it’s seemingly out of nowhere and delivered in her usual deadpan tone.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Nemu’s jealousy is scary. It is not visible, her outward behavior remains unchanged. Her rivals however always seem to inexplicably get sick the next day.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

You learned the hard way that kissing Nemu without warning is very dangerous. God knows what Mayuri is going to stuff her with so it is best to ask before trying anything though she does keep antidotes on her. If you wanted she could ask Mayuri to modify your blood so it’s no longer a problem.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Nemu is very good at taking care of all the physical needs of children. She’d enjoy reading to them. She struggles with the emotional aspects but would never employ her father’s methods.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Nemu likes sleeping in and will keep you in bed as long as you keep believing her excuses.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

She doesn’t need much sleep so staying up late doesn’t pose issues for her.

O = Open  (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say  everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

If you asked about her she’d bring you a very large report from Mayuri. It is heavily redacted as to not give away the secret of her creation but other than that it is very detailed.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She doesn’t get angry and if she does there’s no way to tell.

Q = Quizzes  (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little  detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Nemu has an almost photographic memory and can recall details scarily well.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When Nemu first started getting interested in you she didn’t know what to do about the weird happiness she felt. It was then she remembered her Master telling her “Do as you wish.” and from that moment she was certain what she needed to do.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Nemu definitely puts your safety first and foremost. She’d express confusion if you decide to protect her but inside she’s extremely flustered.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She definitely tries hard to do nice things for you but she doesn’t really know what to do leading to her seeking help from her friends at the Shinigami Women’s Association which most often ends in shenanigans.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Nemu is weird in a way that is hard to explain.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Her looks had always been dictated by Mayuri so helping her find her own style is going to be a journey.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

It would be so devastating for her she would be sobbing for weeks and nobody would know what to do since she’s never been that emotional.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Mayuri is suspiciously supportive of Nemu’s relationship. He wouldn’t even do anything invasive outside his usual surveillance bacterium.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

While she can understand you being uncomfortable around Mayuri she wouldn’t tolerate open hostility from either side.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She always sleeps in the same completely straight robotic pose and doesn’t change unless you’re sleeping with her.

[procrastinationaccount]

Something about these two touching each other's necks

The move from an immediate deadly threat that isn't followed through to its conclusion, to a perceived threat actually/also meant as a protective gesture, to Gideon willingly giving herself over to pain in order to protect Harrow. The fact that the strangulation was their last skin-to-skin contact for years, and they effectively slowly work their way back up to it. One-way trip to No Town, indeed.

[fushitoru]

seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

[rottingpink]

work wife

cw. cheating, semi public sex, highly immoral behavior, power dynamics, smut.

⤷p! link

synopsis. his wife has been noticing the drastic improvements in his mood these days. the reason? she has no clue!

an. reposted bc it flopped...

masterlist kinktober ‘25 masterlist navigation

he's been coming home in better spirits these days. his wife notices it the moment he walks in. his shoulders aren't as hunched, the faint shadows under his eyes have softened, and there's a steady rhythm to his steps that wasn't there before. he looks healthier, yes, but also quieter. less interested in everything. the way he used to greet his wife upon coming home with long hugs and affectionate kisses has shrunk down to quick pecks. on some days, just cheek kisses and head pats you'd give to a child or a friend. 

you're the one he's been letting get dangerously close lately. his cute little intern who shadows his every move, learning the ropes but also testing the edges. everyone murmurs half-jealous, half-incredulous that you're his work wife. though you've caught wind of the gossip, you don't correct them.

your bond started slow, innocuous. a shared laugh after shitty clients had left, long eye contact, little touches, like when you were helping him sort a stack of files and your fingers brushed over one another. then, a shoulder leaning into his as you crowd together over the same laptop screen. then, wanting to test how far boundaries would go, you pecked his cheek after he complimented you on a job well done, but his head turned last second and your lips brushed.

you'd apologized profusely, extremely anxious about his reaction, but instead of being upset, he offered you the gentlest kiss on your lips to settle your nerves. a return of the favor.

then, little kisses everyday. simply affectionate, normal between people as close as the two of you. it's meant to be quick, harmless; but they're the kind that send a pulse through your whole body.  every time it happens, it feels like you're stealing something, a secret he's letting you in on, and maybe he doesn't even realize he's doing it. 

or maybe he does.

the front desk hums with the quiet chatter of speculation. a cluster of your of your coworkers, the sales guy, the HR people, tech support; they're all gathered to talk about the two of you. periodically, their eyes flick towards the boss' office where you and he disappear for long stretches.

"have you noticed how he's been taking his ring off lately?" whispers a secretary, young, glossy nails, huge crush on the boss. her voice carries quietly enough to sound like idle office gossip, but sharp enough to be resentful. she's jealous of you. "leaves it on his desk, or sometimes on the conference table... and doesn't seem to care."

one of the HR guys snorts derisively. "yeah. i've caught him fiddling with it all the time, like he's deep in thought. and it's always when the intern's talking to him, too. so odd."

the secretary woman snorts, leaning in to the group. "i'm sure i can guess why. have you seen her? buttons undone, pencil skirts so tight i'm surprised she can bend over without everything being visible. and she's always strutting around beside him and giggling like a cheap whore. she's practically throwing herself at him."

"trashy. no wonder she's his favorite."

another person chimes in, glancing toward the direction you'd both gone. "where the hell are the two of them anyway?"

your cheek presses flat to the table, your skirt pushed up, panties shoved aside carelessly. your boss wedges every inch of his fat cock in you slow and steady.

this is the only part where he takes his time, because he can't ruin your poor, sweet little hole with his girth by slamming in all at once. when he manages to push inside you to the hilt (albeit with some resistance on your end; apparently being soaked from flirting and hanging off him all morning still isn't enough to bottom out all at once), he grunts softly and gathers saliva in his mouth, spitting down onto where his cock enters your pussy. he needs it as sloppy and wet as possible.

you whine, wanting to turn back to look at him, but you're too focused on not moaning like a whore at the biiiiiiiig stretch of him inside you.

"look at that," he huffs out, dragging his cock halfway out before shoving it back in harder this time, making the table creak. "squeezing that hard and i haven't even fucked you yet."

his palm settles heavy between your shoulder blades, pressing you down flat so your ass stays tipped high, cunt helplessly wrapped around him, twitching every time he drags that thick cock out and thrusts back in deep.

"oh my-fuck!" you squeak against the table, nails scratching weakly onto the wood in an attempt to regather your bearings. you feel so absurdly full and unaccustomed to a size like this. no matter how many times you take it, you feel like a fucking virgin, squirming and trying to run away from dick. not that he lets you, though. he's holding you down so firmly that you don't move an inch out of the position he put you in. "boss- sir, s-slow down please,"

"stay down." he orders.

your body jerks each time he fucks into you, and your breath comes out ragged and panted as you let out weak little moans and curses each time he hits too deep inside you. "i'm t-trying," you pant out weakly. you shove your hand over your mouth to try and stay quiet when he shoves into you a little too rough, but he hears how you fall apart regardless. hears the wet slap of his cock sinking into you. "pathetic," he mutters, leaning in again to whisper into your ear. this new position makes him push into you even deeper, his balls pushed up right against your entrance. "bent over in a copy room with your mouth shut and your cunt dripping on the floor."

you bite your lip hard to ensure you keep quiet, but it's proving to be nearly impossible with how hard he's pounding into your soaked cunt.

his hand snakes down to your pussy and reaches the spot where you're stretched wide around him; where he's buried all the way to the base and your slick is dripping down his balls. he presses his thumb into the sensitive skin where your folds meet his cock, pushing your swollen pussy lips open just enough to watch how you clench back around him on instinct.

"greedy -ah, damn- little hole," he mutters, more to himself than you. "so fucking sloppy. you should be embarrassed." you can tell even though he's patronizing you that he's close. his cock throbs inside you consistently, and his thrusts are getting slower, harder, and sloppier. your ass bounces with each thrust and your pussy's talking more than you, letting out nasty squelches as he fills you.

your eyes roll back when he grinds in again, "oh-mmmff...please, please, don't stop, feels s'good, i can't," you slur, your hips try to jerk away from the intensity of it. doesn't work. he follows you wherever you go, pushing deeper, deeper, until you're trembling.

"please," you beg again. he simply slides a hand under you in response, fingers zeroing in on your clit with an unerring precision that makes you cry out as your pussy clamps down tight around him. your orgasm hits hard and fast, watery cum oozing out of you in splurts and coating his cock. he groans when he feels you squeeze around him, hips stuttering.

"squeezing me too tight, can't move." he chokes, cock spasming inside you. if you don't quit clamping on him, he's going to breed you. but he can't. it's far too risky. so he shoves you down and gives your thigh a pinch so you squeal and loosen up, and he's grateful because any longer and you'd be stuffed with his load.

he pulls out just before he finishes, giving himself just two rough, milking strokes, before he finishes all over your ass in multiple thick, creamy globs.

his cum paints your skin in slow, heavy ropes. you flinch when the first strand hits your lower back, but he grabs your hips again, thumb digging into the soft curve just above your thigh, keeping you still as he pumps the rest out onto your ass. he lets out a low groan through clenched teeth, trying not to be too loud, but it's fucking hard.

you're both breathing hard. your cunt's still pulsing, clenching around nothing now as trickles of his cum slide down your skin. he watches it for a beat too long, thumb brushing over the mess before dragging the tip of his cock through it again.

[tojbnuy]

mini part 4 for gojo day 🧁 next part will probably be the finale. thank you for showing best friend toru so much love even tho he is fairly toxic. art by @ _3aem on twt!! part one part two part three

warnings: a very vague birthday bj, some feelings? MDNI

birthdayboybestfriend!satoru who waits with his phone in his hand ignoring all his other messages and skipping to your contact because he knows you’ll say it at bang on midnight. he is then smiling so hard at his phone suguru actually gets worried.

bestfriend!satoru who obviously has party of the century going on at his place. being the star boy he is, he is soaking up the attention. however he has been dyingggg for your arrival, he makes sure to tell every girl that approaches him that he is booked and busy for today.

bestfriend!satoru who tackles you into a massive hug when he sees you and picks you up just to make sure everyone else sees this. you’re wearing white (his favourite) and he knows for a fact you did that on purpose.

bestfriend!satoru who disregards everyone else’s presents for the time being so he can give you and your presents his full attention. unfortunately he is nosy and had scrolled through your google tab last week so he already knew what two of them were going to be.

bestfriend!satoru who (staying true to character) asks you for a birthday kiss. ‘can i have my last present now baby?’ and then he’s pressed up against you and his familiar taste is all you can take in. ‘toru people can see us’ ‘let them see baby’

bestfriend!satoru who wraps your ponytail around his fist whilst you’re talking. sometimes even pulling you back a bit so he can take a long inhale at your neck.

bestfriend!satoru who is actually very annoyed that he got a hot tub because now there were multiple gawking at you. suguru even wolf whistles at you at one point just to rile him up and he got a mouthful of tub water because of it.

bestfriend!satoru who catches you whispering to suguru and finds he definitely does not like the look of that. you had a worried expression which he made a mental note of to ask suguru about later.

bestfriend!satoru who casually gropes at your chest. (you allow him of course) (however you put an end to it when his fingers start to creep into the material of the lace covering your breasts.) (there were simply too many people present but satoru was content with just holding your tit) (stressball >__<)

bestfriend!satoru who makes his closest friends go round the tub and say what they like about him most. suguru is the only one who gives him a slightly heartfelt message, sukuna calls him ugly, toji calls him an airhead, nanami says he is ‘special’ (whatever that means?), shoko says he makes her want to smoke. and then it’s your turn and gojo actually tears up at your beautiful words. your voice and your eyes staring only ever at him saying that he is your person and you really do think he the strongest individual you know. (then he grabs your face and kisses you and the crowd boos until he stops)

bestfriend!satoru who is dead set on you staying with him for the night. ‘you’re not gonna cuddle your best friend on his birthday?’ and how could you everrrr say no to that.

bestfriend!satoru who has his head on your chest, you hands running through his hair and scratching at your scalp. his thighs are covering yours and he lazily kisses at your collarbone. the tension in the room is thick. you can both feel it. it was simply a game of who would move first. satoru knew you wouldn’t, always the more timid and shy one of the two so he took it upon himself to drag his fingers across the waistband of your shorts. ‘wait toru we can’t i’m, i’m your friend?’ god you were too sweet for this earth. ‘it’s okay baby. we don’t have to, but no one’s gonna know. just us.’ and he litters even more feather light kisses to the spot right below your ear until you were letting out soft little sighs. ‘then. then i want to do it, yk since it’s your birthday.’ he knew you weren’t the most conventional best friends but this, this was further than anything you’d ever done before. and he was on cloud nine.

bestfriend!satoru who was now realizing that he had never experienced true joy before this moment. before he had felt your velvet soft lips wrapped around his tip. your tongue licking at his crown so softly, so sweetly. he’s always been a moaner but now he had no shame in the sounds that were leaving him. ‘that’s it baby, just like that. that’s my girl’.

bestfriend!satoru who was a head pusher. he let you set the pace in the beginning but he was growing desperate, something he hadn’t experienced before. your little mewls as he holds you in place right at the base of his dick. your nose nestled against the faint hairs there, and your tears dropping directly into his skin. he had given you the chance to move but being the amazing best friend that you were you swallowed everything he gave you, even opened wide and let him take a look, that to make sure. ‘fuck baby that was the best gift ever’

bestfriend!satoru who snores like a truck directly into your ears and grinds his hips into your thighs whilst he sleeps.

(bsf!gojo will be returning soon!! and i’ll be adding everyone who asked to the taglist! thank u for showing him so much love :))

taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @sukuxna0 @suechii @whozeurdaddy @purp1eha1o @greensunflowerjuna @jjkysnk @tibibibi123 @missthatgirl @macchiatoast @adanfore @namjooningera @jaeminsmilk @tojicvmslut @hachichann

[fayesarchive]

— °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ REMINDER

summary: you take a girls trip to Miami with your best-friend. Eren gets jealous from a story he saw, and when you get home, he reminds you who you belong to—with dick.

wc: 2.9k

cw: eren yeager x black!fem reader, established relationship, smut (mdni), rough, jealousy, creampie, dom!eren, possessiveness, slight degradation, choking, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), eren is a lil toxic, raw sex (use protection), use of “papa/pa”, use of n-word (by reader), use of ma/mama

MIAMI, FL 🌴

You’ve been away almost a week now, finally giving in to your long-time best friend, Zayla’s, pressure and booking a girls trip to Miami, just to get away from what y’all were used to.

Eren wasn’t too happy about it, he sulked and pouted around your shared penthouse as he overheard you two planning it, but you were grown—he’d live.

The trip had been the most fun you’ve had in a while: the sun out, free drinks, music, and skin kissed by salt and sun. You finally felt free from the life you were used to, trying new things, going to new places. But then, that one night—when y’all ended up at a random ass club downtown—changed the whole vibe for the rest of the trip.

Saturday, July 20th — 11:12PM

Zayla was drunk asf, her story catching everything it didn’t need to catch. In one clip, you were posted up in a booth, talking to some random guy you just met. He made you laugh and was actually polite and sweet. It was harmless, until your phone dinged in your hand.

Eren❤️: Who’s that all up on you in the back of Zayla story?

Eren❤️: When you gon’ stop playing with me lil girl?

You blinked, once, twice, growing annoyed.

You: what are you talking about ‘ren ??

Eren❤️: You know what I’m talking about.

Eren❤️: You think you can be friendly just because I’m not there to make it obvious you mine?

You frowned. This nigga was really trying to ruin your night.

You quickly switched tabs to Instagram and checked Zayla’s story. Sure enough, there you were—tight black 2 piece hugging every inch of you, makeup glowing, smile bright and wide. And yeah, the guy you were chopping it up with leaned in just close enough to get Eren’s blood boiling, Eren was already on edge when you left so this was enough to tip him over.

You: eren, he’s just my friend. you doing too much.

You: i told you already you had nothing to worry about.

Eren❤️: Apparently you lied.

Eren❤️: You know I don’t like you wearing that little shit when I’m not with you anyway.

Eren❤️: That’s not even one of the outfits you showed me when you were packing.

Eren❤️: I don’t want you around him no more. You know that he about to try and take you home. I hate when you try to play dumb.

Read 11:34PM

He knows you despise when you’re accused of lying and doing shit you not. You didn’t answer. You just locked your phone and stared at the club lights with a pout while your drink sat untouched. Zayla stumbled next to you, loud and slurring, “Girl get up! What you doing? Let’s take a shot!”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and forced a smile as you got up.

⸻

Meanwhile, Eren sat in his hotboxed car outside your shared penthouse, blowing smoke through his nose, thumb tapping at the screen as he saw in real-time you reading it and the purple letters popping up at the bottom of the screen saying that you went on DND.

Eren❤️: This what we on? Ok.

He’d been trying to calm himself down for hours now. The weed helped. Barely.

You didn’t reply.

Didn’t call like you usually would at the end of the night.

Didn’t even send a dry, annoyingly formal, reply like you would do when you’re upset.

But occasionally, you’d open the messages he sent you, he knew you saw them. That’s the only way he knew you were okay and wasn’t going crazier than he already was.

He sent one more the day you were supposed to fly back.

Eren❤️: Let me know when you land mama

No read.

No reply.

Just the straight silence he hated.

⸻

Monday, July 22 — 7:58PM

Your flight landed late, and you ordered an Uber instead of telling him to pick you up. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to see him yet, you hated when he does this. You hadn’t answered a single text he sent you in the last 24 hours. You just needed to think.

But when you stepped into the dim penthouse, suitcase wheels echoing across the marble floor, the soft smell of weed and his cologne hit you at the same time as you open the door.

He was home.

You sighed, sliding your yeezy slides off, not even surprised when he appeared from the hallway, just stared at him blankly—sweatpants slung low, his long brown hair in that half-up-half-down that you loved (he knew that), gold chain that you got him for his birthday hanging on his bare chest, eyes low and tired but locked straight on you. The sight of him made your thighs press together, he looked so damn good but you couldn’t give in.

Eren stood there for a moment slowly looking you up and down. “You really wasn’t gon’ call me when you landed?”

You rolled your eyes as you set your suitcase to the side, voice too calm. “I didn’t feel like it.” you shrugged.

He scoffed, stepping closer. “So you just gon’ act like you wasn’t out there ignoring me for two days? Letting some random dude get all up in your space like I’m not the one who puts you in your place? Like you don’t belong to me?”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked up at him “You done?”

“Hell no,” he muttered, reaching for your waist. “You had me out here sick.”

You tried to move past him, avoiding eye contact, but he caught your hand. He tugged you into him. His lips brushed your neck, slow and deliberate.

“I was jealous,” he admitted, voice low. “You smiling in some dude’s face like that? Wearing shit you ain’t even show me? You knew what you was doing.”

You sighed looking up into his eyes, softening just a little. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you pa.. I was just having fun.”

Your bag hit the floor with a soft thud.

“I’m the only fun you need,” he mumbled as he takes your hand his way to sit on the couch. “C’mere mama.” He pat his lap, inviting you to sit on him.

His large hands moved up and down your thighs as you straddled him. His hands were moving dangerously close to your clothed cunt as he eyes you as if he was studying your body, he finally made eye contact.

“You was out there forgetting who you belong to? Huh?” he wrapped his tatted hand around your neck, pulling you towards him and dragging his tongue slow down the sensitive spot on your neck.

“N-no, Papa, I know m’yours.” you breathed, as he lifted your baby tee up. You were braless, your pierced nipples exposed to the cool air of the penthouse as he groped your soft mounds while you start to grind your clothed clit onto him. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, your body knew you were still horny for him.

“That’s what I thought.”

He broke contact with your neck and leaned back onto the couch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with heat. “Tryna act like you mad at me… but grinding on me like this as soon as you get back.”

You rocked your hips slowly, thin fabric of your leggings grinding on his half-hard bulge, biting your lip, trying not to let your moans escape too easily.

Eren smirked.

“Don’t get quiet now. You had all that attitude in Miami.” He grabbed a fistful of your ass and bounced you harder onto his bulge. “You was talkin’ shit like you weren’t moaning my name the morning you left.” His smiled became wider as he used a high pitched voice to imitate you, “Papa Im gonna miss you and this dick so much,” he mocks. You hid your face in his neck, ears heating up in embarrassment, “P-papa, Stop! You finna make me nut again!” He continues with a wide grin across his face.

You whimper, nails digging into his chest. “Stop Eren.” you whine into his neck.

“Yeah, now you remember.”

He groans as his hands became greedy, sliding under your lace underwear and leggings, rough palms gripping your bare ass making you grind down harder. You gasped as you felt how rock hard he is under you, thick and pulsing as he feels your clothed folds grinding up and down his hard-on.

He suddenly stood up with his hands under your thighs, your legs instantly wrapped around his waist like its a second nature, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as he carries you down the hall. You feel his cold chain pressing on your breast as he keeps kissing and biting your neck.

“You wanna play like you single wearing that tiny shit?” He muttered in your ear, voice low and rumbling. “Smiling in another dude face like he can make you feel like I can? Thats real cute.” Sarcasm laced thick in his tone as he nods his head.

“I wasn’t—“ before you can get another sentence out he throws you onto the bed. You bounced on the mattress and before you can sit up, his hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you to the edge of the bed, pulling your leggings and lace thong down in one swift movement. Your thighs slightly trembled as the cold air hit your now soaked cunt.

“You think he can make you nut on his dick like I do? Tell me, ma.” He whispers against your ear as he runs his middle finger up and down your sensitive nub, making you gasp and clench around nothing. “You think he would’ve known what to do to you? He wouldn’t have lasted 2 minutes.”

His voice was like gravel, fingers still teasing your slick folds before suddenly sliding two thick digits deep into your heat, making you cry out and arch your back off the bed, your hands trying to move yourself up the bed to get away from his long, thick, fingers.

“Nah, don’t run now. You was talkin’ all that shit, remember?” he grunted, curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your body lock up. “Im not “doin’ too much” again, Am I?”

You grabbed at the sheets, legs already starting to tremble as his fingers curled moving in a ‘come here’ motion, pressing up to your sensitive spongy spot, his thumb pressing hard against your clit in tight, dirty circles. You were soaked, the sound of your arousal wet and messy between your thighs.

“E-eren—Mmmm!” you whined, hips bucking up into his hand as you grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him out of you.

“Hand.” he demanded, making you let go.

He pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean with a satisfied groan.

You didn’t even have time to breathe before he yanked your legs over his shoulders and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, tongue diving into your cunt with no warning, no patience. He devoured you like a man starved—like this is what he lived for. He starts gripping your thighs to keep you still as he dragged his tongue up and down your folds, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard.

Your fingers tangled in his hair instantly. “P-papa, please—oh my god—” You bit your lip as an attempt to quiet your moans. He roughly slapped your thigh making you whimper.

“Let that shit out.” he growled between licks. “I wanna hear you.”

You were already shaking, moaning loud as his tongue fucked into you deep, nose pressed against your clit as he moved his head side to side, making your eyes roll back.

You came hard, thighs squeezing around his head, body jolting as you sobbed out his name.

But he didn’t stop.

He licked you through it, messily, until your body was twitching and tears brimmed at your waterline. He pulled back, lips and chin soaked in you.

Smirking at your teary eyes and the pout of your lips as he stood, dragging his sweatpants down to free his thick, heavy cock—veins prominent, tip flushed, already dripping pre-cum.

You stared, lip trembling, chest rising and falling fast.

He flipped you onto your stomach like it was nothing and yanked your ass up into the air. You tried to crawl up the bed to get away from him,“Nah, you gon’ take this. You gon’ remember who own this pussy.”

And with one slow, punishing stroke—he bottomed out inside you.

You choked on a moan, hands gripping the sheets so tight you thought your freshly done acrylic nails were gonna break. The stretch was deep, almost painful, but it was exactly what you've been unknowingly craving all week. Eren was thick, and he didn't ease into it-he filled you in one hard stroke, balls pressing against your soaked folds as he bottomed out.

"Thaaat's it," he groaned behind you, holding your hips tight as your walls clenched around him. "This what you needed, huh baby?” He coo’d, “Had to go act out just to remember who fuckin' owns this pussy."

"E-eren, please.." you whimpered, your voice barely audible through the gasps he fucked out of you.

"Nah," he growled, snapping his hips into you again, slow but deep, making you feel every inch, vein, and the curve.

"That’s not my name."

"Papa! Fuck-s'too deep-" your voice cracked as your body rocked forward with each thrust. Toes curling as his heavy balls slapped against your clit.

He gripped the back of your neck and pushed your head down onto the mattress, muffling your loud moans.

“What I tell you about allat cussing mama? Y’know I don’t like that shit.”

His hips slam into you harder, the loud sound of slapping skin, moans, and your soaked pussy bouncing off the walls of the shared bedroom.

His fingers snaked between your legs circling your sensitive, swollen, pearl making you squeal.

“I know baby,” fake sympathy dripping from his tone, “you’re taking me so good.”

Your body was jelly, mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm snuck up fast, overwhelming you. You clenched hard around him, crying out, "'m cumming—!"

“I feel you mama, Let that shit go for me.” he grunted, thrust growing brutal and sloppy. “F-fuck, you’re squeezing the fuck outta me.”

Your body spasmed under him, juices dripping down your thighs as you came hard around him , legs shaking. But he didn't slow down.

"Fuckin' missed this pussy," he growled, pulling out just to flip you onto your back. "Look at me while I nut in you."

He rubs his sensitive tip onto your swollen clit before he pushed back in, half-lidded green orbs locked with your teary brown eyes, both of you panting. Your breast bouncing in sync with his thrust. His chain swung between you, tapping your chest with every brutal thrust. His jaw clenched, brows furrowed, breath ragged.

He shoved 2 of his digits into your mouth, pressing against your tongue to make you louder as you moaned against his fingers.

“Y-you look so pretty after you cum mama. Fuck—“ he groans after he stares at your fucked-out face, eyes low, tears staining your cheeks, drool dripping down your cheek, lips swollen and shiny from you biting them and drooling all over yourself.

“Let me see that face when I fill you up," he hissed through gritted teeth, and with one final thrust, he groaned-deep, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. He thrust a few more times causing him to let out a small whimper before collapsing on top of you.

Warmth flooded your core, and you whimpered as you felt every twitch of his cock inside you, his forehead resting your neck as he was still inside you.

Eren stayed there, buried deep, catching his breath against your neck as his cum leaked out around his cock, onto the comforter, warm and sticky between your thighs.

Your legs were still trembling, chest heaving, your voice gone from how loud you were screaming. You could feel your heartbeats sync up as you guys’ breathing went back to normal, his weight grounding you, holding you still like he wasn’t ready to let you go yet.

Then, without warning, he pulled out with a soft groan, you whine at the movement— your body twitching at the sudden emptiness. He looked down at the mess between your thighs, then dragged two fingers through it, making you buck your hips up—smirking at the sight of his cum mixed with yours.

“You did so good f’me baby,” he murmured, tapping your overstimulated clit with those same fingers, making you jolt and whine

He stood up, walked to the bathroom to get a warm wet towel, your legs still up in the air waiting for him to wipe you down. He came back and wiped you down as he leaned down to brushed his lips against your swollen ones, giving you a soft, sloppy, open mouth kisses.

You whimpered in between the kisses as you felt the soft fabric of the towel semi-roughly rubbing against your sensitive clit, legs twitching, trying to close around his hand.

“Eren…” you whine as you grab his hand wiping you down, “be gentle.” He smirks as he leans over to give you another soft kiss. “M’sorry, mama.”

He breaks from this kiss and goes down to kiss the marks on your neck he left behind, “Dont ignore me for that long again though.” he mutters against your neck as he pulls your underwear back up, giving your ass 2 light taps before walking back in the bathroom.

© fayesarchive — do not repost, reupload, or copy my work. reblogs are appreciated :)

(a/n): ending was lowk rushed—i wrote this at 3am and got tired LOL

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 1:52

Ok, so maybe Bakugou’s daughter often clung to him like a stubborn little barnacle. Chubby arms were looped tightly around his neck, and her puffy cheek was pressed warm against his shoulder. Legs kicked every now and then—tiny, impatient stomps in the air—but she refused to let go, despite being fully awake and heavy as hell.

“She’s like a furnace,” he muttered as he paced around the living room barefoot, a coffee mug half-finished and abandoned on the side table. “My back’s sweatin’, baby. You’re gettin’ heavy.”

“No down,” Kusami mumbled into his neck.

Her voice was muffled but firm, like a warning. A threat.

No doubt his kid. No DNA test needed.

Bakugou huffed, adjusting her so her weight settled better in his arms. “You’ve been up here for forty minutes. I’m not a damn tree branch.”

“No down!” she said again, louder this time, squirming and gripping tighter as if he was really going to drop her right that second.

Across the room, you stood at the kitchen counter, drying the last of Kusami’s snack bowls. You turned slowly, your expression already halfway between exasperation and amusement. “Katsuki…”

Bakugou ignored your tone completely. He tilted his head down to press a kiss into the messy tuft of Kusami’s hair, which still smelled faintly like baby shampoo and maple syrup from breakfast. “I gotta put you down, Gremlin,” he said in a singsong voice, the one he knew she hated. “Daddy’s arms are gonna fall off. Kusami goes on the floor. Boom—splat!”

Immediately, Kusami’s eyes went wide. Her bottom lip trembled. “Nooooo,” she cried, voice cracking as her whole body tensed against him. Dammit. How dare babies learn emotional manipulation at such a young age?

Bakugou smirked.

“Katsuki!” you called from the kitchen, stepping around the counter with a damp towel in your hand and a glare in your eyes. “You know that makes her cry!”

“I ain’t doin’ anything!” he defended with a guilty grin as Kusami started sniffling, her arms squeezing his neck like a python’s. “I didn’t actually put her down!”

“Yeah, but you said it like you meant it!”

“It’s called buildin’ resilience.”

You sighed as you crossed the living room toward him. “It’s called emotional terrorism.”

Kusami’s tiny voice cracked again. “Daaaadyyyyy…”

“Aw, come on, baby,” he cooed, rubbing her back. “You know Daddy’s messin’ with you.”

She let out a whimper and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Then, with a trembling voice soaked in betrayal, she mumbled, “No floor…”

Bakugou sighed and rocked her gently from side to side. “Okay, okay. No floor. You win.”

You stood in front of him now, towel in hand, your expression softening as you looked at your daughter’s blotchy red face squished against your husband’s shoulder.

You dabbed at Kusami’s cheeks. “You’re mean, Katsuki.”

“She’s gotta learn sarcasm somehow,” he muttered, kissing Kusami’s temple again.

“She’s two.”

“She’s smart,” he said simply. “She knew I was kiddin’.”

You crossed your arms. “You’re lucky she’s obsessed with you. If I said the same thing to her, she’d scream like I kicked her puppy.”

Bakugou grinned. “That’s ‘cause I’m the favorite.”

You raised a brow, stepping closer so your arm brushed against his, your voice low and teasing. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite too.”

He gave you that smug, crooked smile of his—the one that always got under your skin in the best way. “I know.”

Kusami let out another tired, hiccupy breath, and you reached up to smooth your daughter’s hair. “Hey, Ku-mi,” you said sweetly. “You wanna sit with Mommy for a bit? Give Daddy a break?”

“No…” Kusami croaked. “Daddy…”

“She doesn’t wanna let go,” Bakugou said, all faux regret as he nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I’m irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling now.

He shifted Kusami again, bouncing her a little. “You know, I wasn’t this clingy when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, because you were a demon who didn’t want hugs or help or baths.”

“I was independent.”

“You were feral,” you countered, laughing softly.

Bakugou shrugged. “And now I’m a softie with my baby girl.”

You leaned your head against his arm and looked up at him fondly. “Yeah. You really are.”

He glanced down at you, then at the sleepy, sniffling little girl still attached to him like a leech. “She’s got me wrapped around her damn finger.”

“You’re the one who tied the knot yourself,” you teased, reaching out to gently stroke Kusami’s cheek.

Your daughter’s eyes were closing again, her hands now lazily tangled in the collar of Bakugou’s shirt. She sniffled one more time but didn’t cry. Instead, she sighed and leaned her full weight into her father’s chest, completely surrendered to his warmth.

“She’s gonna grow up and never wanna cuddle me like this again,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You heard the rare wistfulness in his voice and smiled.

“So enjoy it,” you told him. “Don’t scare her with the floor every time you’re tired.”

“I wasn’t tired,” he grumbled, rubbing her back again. “I was just messin’ with her. It’s funny.”

You gave him a pointed look, stepping behind him so you could wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind as he held your daughter.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re being an ass.”

“I am cute.”

“Debatable.”

He snorted and leaned his head back a little, resting it against yours.

Kusami’s breathing evened out again, finally drifting off in his arms as you held onto both of them—your husband, who acted tough but melted the second your daughter whimpered, and your baby girl, who trusted him more than anything in the world.

Bakugou looked down at her peaceful little face.

“…Still not puttin’ her down,” he murmured.

Your voice was soft behind him.

“I know.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[plaidcowboy]

meeting ma and pa kent

( synopsis ) — after dating for a little under a year, clark finally brings you to smallville to meet his parents. request can be found here!

( warnings ) — just playful suggestion at the end, nothing happens.

It was… terrifying at first, the idea of meeting Clark’s parents. The two of you had been seeing each other for just under a year, and while that wasn’t exactly short, it also didn’t feel long enough. Was it too soon? Too late? You weren’t sure. Especially now that the two of you had just moved in together. Things were getting serious.

The moment came quietly, as most important ones do. You were curled up with Clark on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder, his hand comfortably splayed over your thigh. The TV played softly in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention. Clark leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey, baby?” he murmured.

You looked up at him, brows raised. That’s when he said it. “I want to take you to Smallville. Want you to meet my parents.”

And with the way he looked at you.. soft, hopeful, completely in love, there was no possible answer except, “Of course, Clark. That sounds really fun.” You even kissed him after. But inside? Your stomach had dropped.

Because these weren’t just any parents. They weren’t city dwelling socialites or friends of friends you could charm over a glass of wine. They were Kansas parents. Farm people. Real deal, salt of the earth types. You didn’t share the same cues, the same culture, the same pace. And more than that… they raised Superman. The world’s most powerful man. Their opinion mattered a lot. And that made it all the more intimidating.

When you finally pulled up to the Kent family farm, Clark was already dressed in his dirt stained jeans and a soft white t shirt that looked straight out of a Levi’s ad. He leaned across the seat, kissed your temple, and gave your thigh a reassuring pat.

“You ready?”

You thought you were. You were wrong.

The moment you stepped inside, Martha was already wiping her hands on a dishtowel, beaming as she came to greet you. “So you’re the lucky one we’ve been hearing about!” she smiled before pulling you straight into a warm hug. Behind her, Jonathan stood quietly, offering a welcoming nod and a kind smile.

Eventually, you all gathered around the dinner table, Clark beside you, his parents across. The meal was simple, comforting: meatloaf, buttery mashed potatoes, and green beans. The kind of food that made the house smell like memories.

Martha asked questions, not pushy, just curious, warm in that particular way mothers from the Midwest can be.

“How did you two meet?”

“Does he treat you right? He better. You just say the word if he ever gives you trouble.”

“What do you do for work? Any hobbies?”

“You think you’ll stay in the city forever?”

Jonathan didn’t say much, letting Martha lead the conversation. He mostly listened, his eyes occasionally flicking to Clark. And every time he saw how Clark looked at you, with complete, unfiltered affection, Jonathan’s expression would soften. At one point, he interrupted Martha with a quiet, “You must be someone special, if Clark finally brought someone home.”

After dinner, the four of you stepped out onto the porch to watch the sun dip beneath the fields. You and Clark sat on the porch swing, Jonathan in his rocking chair, and Martha brought out slices of cherry pie for everyone. The evening ended with Jonathan sharing old stories, like how Clark used to sneak out of bed to sleep in the barn with the calves, or how he once stole Martha’s whiskey ‘thinking it was apple juice’.

It was lovely. And surprisingly easy.

When the moon rose and the night settled in, Martha and Jonathan stayed in the living room, curled together watching some home renovation show. You and Clark made your way to his childhood bedroom. You looked around with a smile, your eyes catching on the old posters and memorabilia from a life long before Superman.

Clark sat at the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots, then glanced back at you with a small smirk.

“Not what you expected?”

“Not at all,” you laughed. “The Mighty Crabjoys, really?” you teased, pointing to a crinkled band poster on the wall.

“That’s not what I meant, baby.” He stood and walked over to you, brushing a piece of hair from your face, his touch soft. “My parents… What did you think?”

“They’re lovely, Clark,” you whispered. “I can really see where you come from in both of them.”

His face lit up with the kind of smile that made your chest achein the best way. “That means a lot,” he murmured, before kissing you sweetly. Then he grinned, boyish and smug. “You’re getting lucky tonight.”

Your jaw dropped. “Clark! This is your parents’ house—”

He just grinned wider, pulling back the plaid duvet to reveal… Mighty Crabjoys sheets, “You’re blessed just to be sleeping on these.”

You laughed, loud and unfiltered. “You are so corny!”

“Hey, little Clark loved these sheets!”

And later that night, when the house was still and Clark was asleep beside you, you laid there in his arms, fingers gently combing through his hair. That’s when it truly hit you.

They weren’t just Clark’s parents. They were the quiet, steady foundation of everything he is. Meeting them didn’t just bring you closer to Clark, it helped you understand him. His gentleness. His patience. His strength.

And now, you were part of it.

( tags ) — @pittsick @dumbbandpoetic @alvi-alvi-alvi @jordiemeow @hrtfilm @ryyvkkr @freddyfazblair @cryptic-doe @summerwriting @eeveedream @cestdommage @ohyouluckysaint @weeeeeeeeeeeezle @matildavol6 @fishie-baby-apple @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @plutosbearr @purple-1995 @i-wanna-be-your-muse @bbsaeko @rexthanatos @kaorisakamotofan @piatosniathenie @angelicp0etry @lacelottie @hailmary-yramliah @allhailbuckybarnes @mollymal @biancasisstuff @hoforfictionalmen-andwomen @atpeacee [to be added]

[adiadagaki]

| obsessive!satoru hates you having a job

Why?

That is his main question. His net worth is in the billions, he has old money, the type passed on through generations of ridiculous wealth. Money has never been an issue, never will be, so imagine his displeasure when you insist on remaining employed.

If you worked at home, Satoru could deal with it, hell he would probably encourage it. He wants you to need him, course he does, but he also doesn’t want you bored. Bored means you’ll search for excitement outside of his arms, that he can’t have.

But actual work? The type you have to leave the house for, smile kindly at others, clear other peoples dirty plates?

He bought you a custom Porsche for your birthday you don’t need to do such things for money.

No matter how hard he pushed on it though, you refused, claiming it was the one thing you could never give up because it was something for yourself.

“C’mon Toru, you’ve known about this shift all week.” Yeah, it was his least favourite shift. 5pm until 11pm. What sick individual decided they were suitable working hours, especially for you, his pretty little girlfriend.

“Call in sick. Pleaseeeee sweets. Your boyfriend is in desperate need of cuddles after a day of being the strongest.” Smushing his cheek against your stomach, he listed five ways he could burn down your workplace while making it look like an accident in his head.

Coaxing him off you was no easy task and you were almost late from his clingy habits.

Satoru, on the other hand, had decided enough was enough. That pesky job had torn you from his arms one too many times and he wouldn’t stand for it anymore.

Dialling up the number he waited until someone answered, his jaw ticking with every ring. “Hello? Jenna speaking.”

“Hello Jenna, I’m gunna need you to grab your manager real quick.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Just go get him, yeah?” Impatience packed his tone, his control slipping. All he wanted was his beautiful girlfriend in his arms, was that so much to ask?

Apparently so.

“Hello?”

“Hiya, I need you to sack (y/n) immediately.” The man down the line blubbered, unsure how to react to such a preposterous request, never mind the fact you were one of his best members of staff.

To your manager, the notion wasn’t appealing.

“I’m sorry but-”

“Listen, I get it, she is irreplaceable, but that is why I need her at home with me. Does five grand sound good enough to weaken your morals?”

Silence. Very loud silence.

“Not enough huh? How about 10?”

Long story short, the man was not as strong hearted as some may believe, and you were already on your way home. Of course, he was tracking you on your phone, watching with a heaviness in his chest only you could ease.

The minutes dragged, comparable to hours as he watched the door knowing any second you would slink inside.

The jingling of keys stole his breath, his leg bouncing in anticipation.

“Why are you back so soon sweets?” He called over his shoulder, trying his best to appear nonchalant and concerned.

“I was laid off because of staff cutbacks.” Your voice was heavy with emotion and he almost felt bad for putting his beautiful girlfriend through such an upsetting ordeal.

Almost.

“What? How could they have let you go sweets? You were their best member of staff.” That he didn’t have to lie about.

Embracing you in a hug, he kissed the top of your head over and over, comforting you in your moment of need.

Soon you quietened down, your eyes a little puffy but other than that you were OK, something Satoru craved to see. You, healthy and happy, with him.

Nuzzling his nose into your hair, he let out a pathetic little noise of content, rocking you gently to soothe you while simultaneously satisfying his urges.

Satoru had never claimed to be a good man, but he was a man in love, and he would sacrifice the world to have you in his arms, even if that meant stealing the last fraction of your old life.

[rinsnumber1fan]

When they accidently hit you...

Includes: rin itoshi, sae itoshi, isagi yoichi, Michael kaiser

Itoshi Rin:

He was just looking for his book that he left on the top shelf, just to make sure that you don't steal it and hide it to annoy him.

You stood right by his side where he had his arm stretched all the way up to the top shelf on his room to find the book. "Rin, I feel like eating some Chinese food today-" you said, fidgeting as you stood by his side.

He gave you a side long glance and grabbed the book, and when he tried to put his arms back to his side, his elbow hit your face.

His eyes widened immidiently and he panicked, "a-are you okay?!" He said, looking down at you who covered your face and winced in pain.

Rin quickly looked to his left and right as if something were to appear and he quickly stepped back, "I'll go get you some-" you grab his hand, "that was... amazing."

Rin blinked..

"What?" He asked as if hoping you didn't mean what you said.

You pulled your hand away from your nose which felt broken because of his elbow, "that was... amazing, do it again." You said with a slight head tilt.

"You.. want me to- to.. hit you..?" He asked as if in confusion.

"Yeah but like really mean it!"

"Nope, no. I'm not doing this-"

He tried to run away and you captured him. Hugging him from behind, "I always knew getting hit by you would be amazing-" his cheeks turn red and he almost dies.

Itoshi sae:

Sae was at a party and he was allowed to bring one person and he bought you the only one he could tolerate.

Sae stood in the main area filled with glitter and RGB lights trying not to interact but these girls were making it pretty difficult for him..

You stood by his side trying your best to be professional while a bunch of girls throw themselves at him bacically.

The blonde twirls her hair, "so you're good at working with balls huh? Me too... kinda.." she tilts her head. It didn't take a genius to recognize what she was trying to say. You kept your mouth zipped but then a few other girls join in.

"Did you know im the shortest girl in this party?"

"I heard you like athletic women! Well I can play with balls too."

Your eye visibly twitched. Sae didn't really say anything just stared off in space with an irritated frown on his face.

But when he feels one of the girls resting her head on his shoulder,

He feels disgusting.

He puts a hand on that woman's head and pushes her off of him harshly.

"Don't you ever fucking dare to-" he immidiently regrets it, noticing the person he just pushed was you.

You looked up at him and he paused and froze for a moment his eyes remained wide, "im sorry- i- didnt-" you licked your bottom lip. "Uh no.. sorry I shouldve.. considered you were already overwhelmed by the-" he grabs your face gently and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"If I ever do that ever again, just kill me, okay?" Sae says, looking at you dead in the eye but more emotion than he's ever shown before.

He's just that scared of hurting someone he loves.

Michael Kaiser:

"Okay and how many times do I have to explain it for your dumb little brain to understand that-" "HEY IM NOT DUMB!" You shouted as kaiser sighed, glancing at all the notebooks and books scattered over your desk.

"You want tutoring, and I'm giving you tutoring. so, stop being lazy and hurry up and solve it." He pressed the pen against the paper roughly.

You pouted and reluctantly grab the pen from his hands, starting to solve the whole problem. "I've been at it for five hours-" "just five hours? I practice soccer for 15 hours every day."

You blinked at the man.

"There's no way you actually-"

"Shut it-"

You obliged and continued.

You got the same problem wrong after like three tries and once again now.

Kaisers brow twitched, "how many times do I have to-" he accidently held your arm a bit too tightly, losing control of his anger.

You winced in pain.

He paused for a moment and quickly let go, he didn't apologize though. Not untill you pouted and your voice was wobbling and your eyes had tears in them. Kaiser sighed in annoyance, or feigning annoyance "are you kidding.. me..?" He glanced at you and for a moment felt a pang in his heart.

"You hurt me!" You announced, although it didn't hurt at all you just wanted to make a show because you loved making kaiser feel bad.

"I didn't even do it that hard!! Okay.. fine.. I'm sorry.." He murmured, grabbing your hand in his and planting a kiss over your knuckles. "Pretty?" He tilts his head and you pouted, only to kiss his cheek back

And then give him the best head ever later.

Isagi yoichi:

Isagi was alone, or so he thought. Watching a movie late at night, a horror one thinking he needed a change, and then you sneaked up behind him. You placed a hand on his shoulders and shouted "BOO!"

The moment his hand collided with your face you knew it was over.

He slapped rhe shit out of you and threw you down to the floor.

Leaving a red print on your cheek.

"Oh my God! You scared the life out of me!! A-are you okay?!" Isagi yelled as he glanced at you on the floor.

You totally deserved it but isagi wasn't the type to admit that.

You lift yout head slowly and smile at him with blood running down your nose. "OH MY GOD!! IM TAKING YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!!!" He grabs you and runs.

"I-isagi wait!! Its no- I'm fine!!"

And you had to get nose surgery after that.

Happy ending

PKEASE LEAVE A COMMENT IM ASCENSINF PLS LEAVE A OCMMENT PLSPLSPLSPLS

[coupsalchemy]

Touch

Summary - The one where your love language is physical touch, and your boyfriend hates touch.

Tags: Lee Jihoon x (dramatic) f.reader, fluff, established relationship au

Warnings: none for now

Word Count: 2.5k

A's Note: I love this kind of themes as my love language is also touch. I am going to write more of this since I can't get enough of it. Click here for part 2.

The table gets rowdier, the drinks sloshes out of the glasses, chopsticks clanking against the steel bowls and plates. To confess you are a little disappointed. You poke the meat on your bowl of rice with the chopsticks, resting your cheek on your propped up palm. 

Jihyun, your friend, realises the distress consuming you gives a nudge to your knee. “It’s okay.” 

You nod, eating the meat, watching your boyfriend from the corner of your eye. Jihoon is diligently chewing on his food, eyes on his friends who are singing and dancing. Your relation with him sprouted one month ago, shy confessions exchanged at a corner table in diner. What you thought a love confession would end with a fiery kiss, at least at your flat if not for the wonky diner, but he just dropped you home with a soft smile and a good night.  

Jihoon isn’t big on physical touch or sweet words—the exact opposite to you. Opposites attract, they do, you were pulled in for his calm demeanour and handling issues with chill where you would be wreaking havoc for even a minor disruption. What they don’t say is that extreme opposites also can’t gel well. 

Soonyoung, one of his friends,  stumbles towards your boyfriend looping his arm around his shoulder only to get shoved off. He just laughs off at his friend’s disgust, and swallows him in a hug. He skips away before Jihoon can kill him with chopsticks. 

You avert your eyes to your friend who nods in compassion. You lean your cheek on her shoulder, kicking the floor under the table. He is supposed to sit beside you and not away. He is supposed to be holding your hand and you shouldn’t be seeking support from your friend. You should be kissing and not be scared of getting shoved away. 

A sigh escapes your lips watching your man, he is fucking hot. The cat eyes are sharp enough to catch every single movement, his pink lips are your favourite out of all, if only you could get a minute with them. His column of neck haunts your dreams leaving you gasping for air. His broad and thick shoulders, and his chest are the root cause of your despair. So close yet so far. 

His gaze flits from his friends’ mischief to yours. You feel your heart in your throat getting pink under his attention. He watches your friend patting your head as you nuzzle closer into her. 

“Do you want some alcohol?” She whispers in your ear to make sure you hear her over the Dokyeom’s high pitch voice. 

You muffle a no, sadness taking over you as Jihoon is back to his phone, typing away. Just in case, like with a tiny little hope you check your phone to see his messages. None. An ache starts in your chest, it’s familiar to you as you recognise it from the time you had a one sided crush on him, and watching him converse with other girls (no smile, short answers but still). 

“Need to pee.” You inform your friend before retrieving yourself from her warm embrace and bee line to the washroom. 

You look into the mirror hung over the sink, washing your hands, mumbling some encouraging words and affirming yourself that he still likes you or else why would you two are still dating? He wouldn’t have invited you at all to this dinner, even if it was supposed to be your first date kind of thing. 

You open the door once you dry off your hands and stumble a step watching Jihoon leaning against a wall scrolling on his phone. You turn around to go back into the washroom before you catch yourself and remember he is your boyfriend. 

At the click of the door Jihoon looks up from his phone, a small smile on his lips. “Done?” 

You nod, confused. “You can go in,” you move aside, giving him space to use the washroom. 

“Nah,” he pockets his phone, “let’s go.” 

He is already walking ahead not even looking back at you to see if you are coming or not. The restaurant is getting busier, all the tables are occupied with waiters and customers walking everywhere. You follow behind him, admiring his work outfit, black trouser pants and white button up shirt, sitting perfectly on his body outlining his definite shape. 

A tipsy man in his fifties is laughing and talking to himself is going on his way to what you assume to be the washroom when he suddenly barks out a laugh, crashing into—Jihoon. 

Jihoon is before you even before that man can knock into you. You blink at the tipsy man mumbling an apology to Jihoon and Jihoon giving a curt nod. He looks over his shoulder, “okay?”

You hum, crushing down the need to lace your arms around his waist and hide from the world behind his broad shoulders. He leads you to the table, his hands in his pockets, the long black hair strands swaying slightly with his authoritative steps.

You squeal inside, oh god why god, he is so sexy. 

He sits on his chair and you dejectedly occupy the empty chair beside your friend. The night is spent with disappointment and the need to feel his warmth. 

—

If you agree to Jihoon’s invitation one more time you will just fling yourself out of the window. The karaoke’s dancing lights mess with your head, Soonyoung’s melodic voice goes beyond sometimes with his enthusiasm, your ears aching. Jihyun is again at your side, offering comfort while Jihoon sat on the opposite side bench. 

“Why does he invite me to all of this and not talk?” You whisper-yell to your best friend. “Maybe I should just go home.” 

She gives you an aw, my poor baby expression and pats your head. To drool more at your boyfriend’s biceps and firm chest under his office shirt, you look in his direction again. Only, he is missing at his spot. Your heart sinks to your stomach, did he leave? 

“Jihoon isn’t—” you pause midway, your mind stops processing when he, the man of your thoughts, sits next to you, shoving a drunk Dokyeom aside. 

Jihoon smiles at you, his eyes doing that cat thing again. Not only sending your mind into a ruckus but also messing with your heart. His subtle scent infiltrates your senses, you lick your lips dropping your head to your lap. 

Jihyun, a traitor under the ruse of a friend, exits towards the washroom. You are nervous, the ac is on full blast, you were feeling cold just seconds prior and now your neck is sweaty. You wanted, no, needed, his attention, and when he is sitting next to you fulfilling your wish you are as good as a scaredy cat. 

Jihoon relaxes, stretching his legs and resting his arm on the ledge of the couch and around your shoulder. His arm brushing your skin whenever you fidget in your seat. You suck in a deep breath, butterflies swarming in your stomach at the proximity, and messing with your head. 

Soonyoung is belting out a sad song like he is fresh out of a break up, while his girlfriend claps to the beat with starry eyes. Jihoon and you listen to whatever crap his friend circle is sprouting, pretending to be attentive to their drunken words and laughter when, in reality, you are aware of Jihoon’s finger tapping on the soft cushion, his fingers brushing your shoulder. 

It is driving you to hell and beyond as you are big on giving and receiving love in physical form. And it’s the thing that had you going crazy from being unable to hold onto your boyfriend. 

Jihoon has a small smile watching Dokyeom choking on a snack. Sadistic. Your stomach flutters. God, you need to get yourself checked. Dokyeom finally gets to breathe, looking at everyone with wide eyes and a hand on his neck. 

You laugh, finding the whole ordeal entertaining, momentarily distracting from your troubles. Dokyeom chokes again, now on water sputtering it everywhere and you squeal, holding your stomach laughing your ass off, curling into the man beside you. 

The stiffness underneath you has you stilling. You sneak a look at Jihoon, his lips are pursed into a thin line. An acidic taste sours your mouth, you mumble a sorry before you seperate yourself from him and maintain some space between you two. 

Jihoon hates touch, you have seen how he shoves his friends away, how he walks with his hands folded and sees that no one is in his personal bubble. For fucks sake, he didn’t even kiss you, you being his girlfriend, the one who has every right (with consent) to touch, feel and hold. 

Jihyun comes back from her washroom, frowning seeing the two of you sitting away from each other. She takes a seat on the other side of the room trying to give you the space and privacy you were craving with your boyfriend. 

Now you aren’t sure if you want to be with him, not after how he reacted, his subtle rejection hurts. You make a move to go to your friend, Jihoon grabs your wrist. “Sit down.” 

You frown. He adds, “please.” 

He pats the space next to him telling you to sit with him. The strobe lights ache your head, the loud music and your friend circle’s loudness twists your stomach. Everyone’s having fun, except you. You are circling around Jihoon, throwing yourself in what ifs, and the fear of how you might accidentally cross your line. You did in the spur of the moment, something you couldn’t control, and you have seen the line between his eyebrows, and the press of his lips. The same distaste he has shown many times, but not to you. This isn’t how you planned your future with him. 

Jihoon, perceptive of your moods and their meanings, leans into your ear whispering, “why did you want to leave?”

You clamp your hands together, knuckles pressed white, a shaky breath escaping your lips. You have to do it, you have to end this, you can’t continue living this way. “Jihoon,” you suck in a shaky breath, “we don’t match.” You gesture between you two with your finger, “we are so different.” 

The unimpressed press of his lips is back, and you are scared. The cat eyes are sharp, observing each twitch in your face, the unshed tears, and he stands up, holding your hand. Surprised, you gaze at the contact, his firm grip on you shakes up the resolution in your heart. This is Jihoon, how can you go on living without him? 

“Let’s go somewhere calm. Super song isn’t the right bgm for our scene.” Jihoon casually leads you outside, checking left and right, choosing to go right, and passing through the other loud karaoke rooms. In search of a quiet place, Jihoon is wandering, taking his time to find a place without people, and on the other side, you are stuck at watching how his hand slips from your wrist and slowly intertwines with your fingers, as if it fits only there, surrounded by you. 

Did Jihoon initiate contact before? You are talking of ending your relationship and he is whistling while opening a broom closet. Jihoon is unpredictable. He closes the door behind you, darkness engulfing you both. He doesn’t turn on the light, and your eyes adjust to the darkness. The closet is tiny, Jihoon is resting on the opposite wall, and his body brushes against you whenever he moves. 

“Why can’t we work out?” Jihoon asks, moving around to get you two comfortable, filling the dark room with the rustling of his dress shirt.

You lick your dry lips, snapping out of how firm his chest feels against yours. “We just don’t. You shouldn’t meet someone like me,” you throw your hand up, accidentally hitting his chest. God, what is he hiding in there? “You should go out and meet someone who is, who is prim and proper and someone that doesn’t have their mind full of filth.” You gasp, covering your mouth, shocked at yourself and the damn slippery mouth of yours.  

Jihoon kills you with his silence. You groan, clutching your hair. This is the reason you shouldn’t communicate in person instead of sending a well framed and overthought text message. You should just blame the closeness, his hands next to your waist, leaning against your side of the wall instead of his’. How can one sane woman think in this situation? 

“Since the reason is out, I’ll out myself.” You nervously chuckle to yourself. “Bye, Jihoon.” You think of giving a ninety degree bow, and realize you’ll probably headbutt him. You end with an awkward wave of hand. 

“Bring your ass back here.” His words sent a shiver down your body. What?

You look over your shoulder, “what?”

He holds your shirt, pulling you back into his chest. “Where are you going?” His lips on your ear makes you grab onto his arm that’s around your waist. 

“To like,” you whack your brain to formulate a good answer, “throw myself onto the road, and kiss the road as I go flying,” your mind, as expected, stopped working the moment Jihoon gives a tiny kiss on your ear followed by a low chuckle. 

“I don’t want you to die,” the sudden saint to sinister Jihoon has you electrocuted, “I need to see you, be with you,” he grabs your waist slamming you back to him as you try to escape his arms, “touch you, and have filthy thoughts whenever I see you.” 

You gasp, nails digging into his arm, “Jihoon,” you whimper, his lips drags across your neck, baring his teeth at the spot your shoulder meets neck, sinking his canines softly, but not quite biting. “You-you don’t like touch!” 

He detaches his mouth, you whine turning around to look at him. “I don't? I didn’t know that.” 

“You shove people away, you are ready to murder Soonyoung even if he breathes in your direction!” You flail your arms, “even a few minutes back when I was laughing and was all over you, you, like, glared at me. I can’t take it, I hate it when someone rejects my touch.” 

“Ah,” he says, “is that why you wanted to break up.” 

You nod, hitting his chin with your nose in the process. “Ah, it hurts.”

Jihoon sighs, “you could have talked it out with me instead of like breaking up with me.” 

You pout, “how can I?” 

“I am not big on physical touch,” he agrees, “and probably hate it when someone comes near me,” you take a step back but he pulls you into him, “but that doesn't mean I hate it with you. I never hated your touch, but instead,” he falters.

“Instead?” You ask with a bated breath. 

“I crave it.” Jihoon slowly leads you to the wall, caging you between his arms, “when you were laughing, and were all over me, I was shocked,” his finger traces your face, from your temple to your chin slowly, ticklish. “I may not express it explicitly but I want only you to be in my space.” 

His lips brush over yours, “no one else.” He presses them over your lips, wet and warm against your cold ones. You gasp, clutching onto his shirt, crumpling the fabric, his body is on yours, feeling all the hard ridges and the muscle. 

“So I worried for nothing?”

“Yes.” He crashes his lips on yours. 

[urfavfakeblonde]

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

hi loves <3 I have had such a writer's block lately, so I thought I'd share some of my favorite fics that I have read lately. shout out to all of these amazing writers-- keep doing what you love. you are all unique and thoughtful, putting a little twist into your work that makes it yours. enjoy <3

𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴

obsession @barnesonly 18+ (he's so dreamy)

You don’t even really like Bucky Barnes — he’s grumpy, kinda mean, and totally clueless about how you feel. But damn, he’s so hot it’s driving you crazy. Every time he walks in, all you can think about is what it’d be like if he just took you right there. You try to play it cool… but yeah, that’s not happening.

𝘔𝘰𝘣 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴! 𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴 (im such a whore for mob!bucky so pls send me fics <3)

sinnerman @aquaticmercy 18+ (OBSESSED W/THIS.)

Bucky Barnes is obsessed with a singer at his favorite jazz club.

sins and silk @magicaloneandmystery 18+ (don't have to force me babe🤭)

under the watchful eyes of his criminal entourage and your unapologetic family, you say your vows to the most powerful man in New York City. despite your doubts, your wedding night surprises you in more ways than one. AKA, Bucky knows how to fuck the reader right.

mad for you @marvelstoriesepic (I cried reading this like deadass)

You are a simple maid who cleans the mansion of the Bucky Barnes, always staying in the background. But when one of his men sees you as a target for assault, and manipulates you into taking the blame for something you didn’t do, you are pushed directly into Bucky’s focus.

𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴

something worth holding @cheekybarnes (I just wanna hug him)

You bring Bucky flowers for his birthday—something no one has ever given him before—and what starts as a simple gesture turns into something far more significant.

eating you out @ddejavvu 18+ (spread it open and flick the bean)

Literally just Bucky eating the reader out, and he hikes her up on his shoulders, with her legs wrapped around his head and she's leaned up against the wall.

manchild @houseofhyde 18+ (this might be the best fic I've ever read. like actually.)

bucky can't help but wonder why they always come running to you,, or your living fossil of a roommate disapproves of your taste in men and its totally not because he wants a taste of you.

gentlemen @buckysleftbicep 18+ (im so down bad for this man)

Like so chivalrous and respectful. But with him being feral and obsessed with you at the same time. Being obsessed with pleasuring you and treating pleasuring you like his life’s honor. NEED HIM

where the quiet lives @cursedheartsclub 18+ (this has a special place in my heart)

You were supposed to be on your honeymoon. Instead, you’re crashing at Bucky Barnes’s lake house—with his grumpy cat and no idea who you are without the man who asked you to give it all up. You went to the lake to forget your ex. You didn’t expect to fall for the man who owns the house.

spellbound @cursedheartsclub 18+ (sex pollen troupe ily)

You took the hit meant for Bucky—magic that curls under your skin like a fever, an ache that won’t ease no matter how many times you break. And the only thing that eases the fire is him.

bound to burn @cursedheartsclub 18+ (SO SO GOOD!!!)

You’ve never kissed Bucky Barnes—never even touched. Now you’re in his lap at a club in Romania, panties pushed to the side, grinding on his thigh while a voyeuristic arms dealer watches from the shadows. The mission said do whatever it takes—so you do. You moan for him. You beg for him. You come on his fingers in a mirrored room with someone else on the other side of the glass. And the worst part? None of it feels fake. Not his voice in your ear. Not his mouth between your legs. Not the way he says, “Eyes on me, doll.” And when it’s all over? You still ache for him. And he’s still carrying your panties in his pocket.

Falling/Drifting Series @probablybucky (this writer is so amazing. ily)

When you find yourself falling for Bucky Barnes (literally), you wonder if you can let go of the past enough to trust him. Set post TFATWS.

Drifting apart was never part of the plan—but neither was falling in love with Bucky Barnes. With a looming threat on the horizon, distance becomes a liability neither of you can afford.

high water @cheekybarnes (so angsty and personal love it)

You’ve stopped keeping track of the bruises. Bucky hasn’t—and he doesn’t say anything, not until the patterns start looking too much like his own, and it’s almost too late to pull you back.

have we met before? @aquaticmercy (sighs in cuteness)

America Chavez says that you and Bucky are together in every universe.

𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴

right this time @buckysleftbicep (as he should 😚)

after a disappointing date, bucky decides to show you what a proper date should be like.

creamy or crunchy @marvelstoriesepic (so cute, made my heart ache)

Bucky joins you grocery shopping to everyone’s surprise.

a love letter to stone @cheekybarnes (brb im gonna go cry)

You were Bucky Barnes’ fiancée, a love left unfinished by war, spending decades at his grave, never moving on. But when Bucky finally comes home—broken, free, too late—you’re already gone.

1940'𝘴!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴

his girl @cursedheartsclub 18+ (1940's bucky has my heart)

He called you his girl long before he ever kissed you. Long before he fell off the train. Before Hydra. Before the ice. Before he forgot your name—Bucky Barnes was just a boy who called you his girl. The two of you grew up tangled in the Brooklyn trio with Steve: fists and laughter, scraped knees and stolen glances, slow dances and so many kisses. You were never official. But everyone knew. He made sure of it. And when he left for war, he shouted it across the room for all to hear— “You know I’m gonna marry you when I get back, right?”

birthday boy @bratscave 18+ (<3 <3 <3)

thinking about how he doesn’t even fucking like celebrating it. the whole “another year, another number” bullshit. what’s there to be excited about? but you—oh, you—pretty little thing that you are, batting your lashes and telling him it’s a special day, his special day, and that you wanna make it good for him. real good.

𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺

always been you @bcksgirl 18+ (love it love it love it love it)

you’re fresh out of a break up, and your brother is determined not to let you dwell on your shitty ex. he thinks your annual summer trip with your shared group of friends should do the trick. you think a summer spent staring at his hot best friend will at least lift your spirits a little.

𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥!𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴

lavender @aquaticmercy 18+ (usually I don't go for stuff like this, but I was like what the hell, why not, and it did not disappoint. very Game of Thrones I love it!!)

The princess is engaged to her childhood best friend, though her true love is her royal guard, James Barnes.

𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘺!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺

the cowboy rule @hanaridulsetcheese 18+ (as a Texas girl herself, I love it!! need more cowboy bucky in my life)

no summary, so here is my own! after arriving in Texas, you meet a charming cowboy named Bucky. When he offers to show you around, you can't help but notice how attractive he is. One night at a bar, he puts his cowboy hat on your head, which can only mean one thing..."You wear a man’s hat, you take him for a ride."

𝘋𝘢𝘥'𝘴𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺

honey girl. @violentdelightsandviolentends 18+ (this series is a masterpiece.)

The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

 daddy's best friend @buckysleftbicep 18+ (“Next time, I’m riding you in your truck.” when is this gonna come out because...)

your dad’s best friend has been avoiding your eyes all night, until he’s got you pinned against the laundry room door, hand up your thigh. it’s everything you shouldn’t want, but you always do.

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺

just for tonight, night out, stay for a fortnight @thyme-in-a-bubble 18+ (this series is so amazing--you have to read it. there is something so beautiful about sex meaning more idk)

bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, ex!peter parker x reader, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), forbidden romance, explicit sexual content, total word count is 10.7k

𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦!𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺

change your mind @marvelstoriesepic (I love baseball boys <3)

Natasha drags you to an NYU baseball game. And despite yourself, one player catches your attention.

supposed distraction @marvelstoriesepic (it's so cute and movie I love it)

It’s Bucky’s birthday and you and your friends are planning a surprise party. That leaves you with the task to distract him while the others prepare.

my masterlist <3

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write something about Charles Little daughter being the flower girl at Charlotte's and Lorenzo's wedding (happy for the newly weds). Just something cute.

Wedding

The air in the countryside estate shimmered with the golden touch of the afternoon sun, casting gentle rays over the white and blush roses wrapped around the wedding arch. Rows of white chairs were lined up on either side of a silk-lined aisle, soft string music filling the air as guests whispered, their eyes darting toward the grand French doors of the house where the bridal party would soon emerge.

Charles adjusted the tiny bow sitting delicately on his daughter’s curls. "You ready, ma chérie?"

"Mhm," Yn replied with a serious nod, clutching her small basket of petals like it was the most important mission in the world. Her pale white dress, carefully chosen by Charlotte, fluttered gently with the breeze. "Uncle Lolo said to walk slow and sprinkle nice. Like this!" She demonstrated with an exaggerated swirl of her hand, petals floating to the gravel beneath their feet.

Charles laughed softly, smoothing down the puff of tulle on her skirt. "Perfect. You’re going to be the best flower girl ever."

Behind them, Arthur was already snapping pictures, kneeling to get the perfect angle of Yn's proud, glowing face. "She looks like a little princess," he said, adjusting his lens. "Charlotte is going to cry."

"I might cry," Charles joked, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. Yn giggled, beaming up at him.

From the house, a call rang out. "We're starting in five!"

Pascale made her way over, elegant in a navy blue dress, her hair swept back in soft curls. She crouched down to kiss Yn's cheek. "Go show them how it’s done, mon ange. And smile for Uncle Lolo, okay?"

"Okay, Grandma!" Yn chirped, bouncing slightly on her heels.

As the music shifted, the guests turned their heads, murmuring in appreciation. Lorenzo stood tall at the end of the aisle, hands clasped in front of him, a nervous but excited smile on his face. When the first bridesmaid began her walk, Charles leaned down.

"That’s your cue. Go ahead. Slow and graceful, just like we practiced."

Yn took a deep breath. Then she stepped forward, one tiny foot in her white ballet flats after the other, petals falling with each measured step. Her face was serious with concentration, eyes flicking to where Lorenzo waited, then to the guests, then back to her basket.

"Awwww," rippled through the audience.

Charlotte's sister, standing off to the side with her own bouquet, wiped a tear away. Arthur took rapid shots, whispering, "Too cute. This is going on my wall."

Lorenzo's eyes softened. As Yn reached him, she held up the empty basket proudly.

"You did amazing, sweetheart," he whispered, crouching down to kiss her cheek.

Yn giggled, covering her face with her free hand before scampering off down the side aisle, where Pascale opened her arms. She climbed into her grandmother's lap and wiggled happily, showing her empty basket to Charles, who sat next to them.

"Did you see me, Papa? I didn’t drop it all at once!"

"I saw," Charles said, giving her a proud kiss on the head. "You were perfect. Charlotte and Uncle Lolo are going to talk about it forever."

As the music swelled again, every head turned toward the bride. Charlotte stepped out, radiant in a shoulder-free gown, her golden hair twisted elegantly, soft makeup catching the light. Lorenzo's breath visibly hitched, and even Yn paused her chatter to gasp.

"She looks like a princess!" Yn whispered.

Pascale laughed softly, hugging her. "She does, doesn’t she?"

Yn leaned into her grandma's shoulder, mesmerised. "I want to be that pretty when I get married."

Charles smirked. "Not until you're fifty."

The ceremony began, and Yn stayed incredibly well-behaved, whispering only occasionally to Charles or climbing gently into Arthur's lap for a better view. Arthur didn’t mind one bit, holding her steady as she twisted to watch Charlotte and Lorenzo exchange vows.

"Why is Uncle Lolo crying?" she asked.

"Because he loves her," Charles answered softly. "And sometimes love makes you feel so full, it comes out your eyes."

Yn nodded sagely. "I think I love Auntie Lottie too."

"We all do, sweetheart."

The vows were beautiful. Lorenzo spoke of the quiet mornings they spent in their kitchen, the way Charlotte always read the last page of a book before starting, the way she made him feel at home even on his worst days. Charlotte talked about the patience Lorenzo had, his devotion to his family, the way he looked at her like she was the center of the world.

When they kissed, everyone stood to clap, and Yn squealed, clapping wildly along with them. "Yayyyyy!"

After the ceremony, guests mingled under the soft shade of white tents, sipping champagne and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres. Yn became the darling of the afternoon, rotating from arm to arm like a tiny guest of honor.

She twirled with Charlotte’s sister on the dance floor, hugged Arthur as he showed her the pictures he’d taken of her, and giggled when Pascale shared a biscuit from the dessert table.

Eventually, Charlotte made her way to them, her veil gently taken off, her smile bright and relaxed.

"There’s my favorite flower girl," she cooed, crouching down in her dress.

Yn reached out, carefully touching the lace skirt. "You’re soooo pretty. Like a fairy."

"Oh, mon ange," Charlotte laughed, tears returning to her eyes. "You’re the sweetest. Come here."

Yn wrapped her arms around her new aunt, snuggling into the layers of silk. Charles came over just as the two hugged.

"She’s already planning her own wedding," he teased.

Charlotte grinned. "Don’t let her pick me as her flower girl. I’d never do it as well as she did."

Yn blinked up at them. "You could do it, Aunt Lottie. But you'd have to wear pink."

Lorenzo appeared beside them, arm sliding around Charlotte's waist. He crouched next to Yn again. "You were so amazing today, sweetheart. Can I keep a picture of you in my wallet forever?"

"Only if you give me one of you and Aunt Lottie too," she said solemnly.

He chuckled. "Deal."

Later, during dinner, Yn sat on Charles’ lap, carefully eating her pasta with the same concentration she'd given the flower petals earlier. Occasionally, she'd glance at the sweetheart table where Charlotte and Lorenzo sat, heads close, hands entwined.

"Papa," she said softly, tugging on his collar.

"Oui, baby?"

"Will Uncle Lolo and Aunt Lottie be together forever?"

Charles kissed her temple. "I think so, mon amour. They love each other very much."

"Okay," she whispered, satisfied. "Then I want to come to their house every day."

He laughed, holding her closer. "They’ll never say no to you."

As the night carried on, the sky fading to dusky rose and then indigo, fairy lights twinkled across the estate. The first dance drew cheers, and though Yn began to fade, yawning into Charlotte's sister's shoulder, she perked up long enough to slow dance with Charles when he swayed with her on the side of the dance floor.

"Best wedding ever," she murmured sleepily.

"I think so too, sweet girl," he whispered, resting his cheek against her curls.

By the time the cake was cut and the music turned livelier, Yn had fallen asleep on Pascale’s lap, her bow a little askew.

Charlotte came over, kissing her forehead. "Thank you for being our little fairy today."

Charles smiled, brushing a curl from Yn's face. "She’ll dream of this for weeks."

"I will too," Charlotte whispered.

The stars blinked above them, and the laughter of friends and family drifted into the night.

Love had been celebrated in the most magical way—with a little girl in white tulle at the heart of it all.

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Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you! I know I'm a bit late, but better now than never.

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