#I think it’ll look better in more natural lighting

[rickybaby]

Danielricciardo: Miami 24’ 🎨 Let’s get it 😈

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

kento.nanami@gmail.com

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

[goosita]

attending a gala with young!politician!snow is both more and less terrifying than you’d imagined

he’d picked you up at 7pm on the dot, waiting outside of his car for you. coriolanus was dressed in all black, a departure from his usual red color palette. the moment you’d stepped outside to meet him in the dress and shoes (as well as necklace) he bought you, he’d smiled charmingly at you and offered his hand.

“you look absolutely enchanting, miss y/n,” he breathed, tone full of sincerity. you could feel your cheeks blaze at his compliment, giving a timid grin.

“thank you, coryo.”

coriolanus brightened even more, opening the back door of the car with his free hand and keeping you steady with the other as you slid in. he followed just after you, settling in beside you on the seat. now here you were, on the way to a big fancy party full of people who made more money in an hour than you did in a whole year.

“are you nervous?” he asks, glancing at you.

“absolutely terrified,” you admit with a soft laugh. “i’ve never been to anything like this. i don’t want to do or say the wrong thing.”

“you’ll be fine, i promise. just follow my lead, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

you nod, but still can’t force down all of your nerves. aside from this whole event being unfamiliar to you, you’re still jittery and unsure with coriolanus. he’s been so hard to read lately. you’re not sure if he’s just toying with you, but it feels too bold to think that perhaps he has a real interest in you either. too indulgent of your daydreams, your fantasies. you can’t seem to stop the fluttery drumming of your fingers against your thigh, until coriolanus is taking your hand and sliding his fingers between yours to stop their incessant tapping. your gaze snaps up to look at him, surprised by the touch.

“everything’s going to be okay. trust me,” he says gently, giving your hand a soft squeeze. for someone who’s last name is snow, his hands are so warm. his thumb brushes over your knuckles soothingly, looking down at you with a calm expression, and you nod. you do trust him. he adds, “i’ll be right beside you all evening.”

his promise makes you feel better, some of the tension leaving your body at both his words and his soothing touch. you glance down at your interlocked hands, his so much bigger than your own. his fingers are so long, pale and beautiful as if they were carved from marble. the veins along the top stand out, raised little rivers of blue that crawl up into his sleeve. his silver watch band rests against the delicate skin of both of your inner wrists.

once you arrive, it feels like a whirlwind of colors and lights and sounds. you find yourself dissociating from most of it, from the moment coriolanus leads you inside with a hand at the small of your back. you try to focus on the way his cologne catches your nose when he turns or moves, the familiar scent helping to ground you. the event passes in a flurry of coriolanus’s voice chatting pleasantly with Very Important Men, fond introductions of you at his side by your name and never your job title, being handed flutes of posca that you only sip on here and there. your date, however, seems to have no trouble at all socializing and sharing drinks with these people.

he’s a natural people-person. coriolanus charms and wins over just about every person he speaks to. the men respect him and listen to what he has to say, while the women giggle and let their eyes wander his face and body. you don’t like that the latter bothers you enough to sling back an entire flute of posca at one point while some district 8 office holder’s wife practically undresses coriolanus with her eyes. if he notices the female attention at all, he doesn’t show it. coriolanus simply keeps one hand planted firmly along your spine, occasionally stroking the exposed skin there softly.

finally, finally, the night comes to an end. coriolanus is loose from the bubbly drinks he’s had, making him a bit more smiley than you’re really used to. his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink that spreads over the bridge of his nose and makes him glow.

“did you have fun, darling?” he asks as he gets into the car with you. while he waits for an answer, he fumbles until he finds the button that raises the privacy screen between you two and the driver.

“fun is…certainly a word,” you offer, unable to stop your grin. coriolanus seems younger like this, spine less rigid and jaw less tense. he looks his age right now, you realize.

“hm. yes, well, i don’t have much real fun these days,” he laments, undoing his tie and shrugging off his suit jacket. “especially not with a beautiful lady on my arm.”

he glances sideways at you as he says it, sly smirk making his smile line in his cheek stand out. you resist the urge to reach out and touch it, instead looking down at your hands in your lap. you never know what exactly to say when coriolanus says things like that. you’re not sure if he’s being sincere, or if it’s just meaningless flirting to him.

he says your name softly when you avert your eyes, gingerly lifting your chin. “look at me, darling,” he whispers. he’s turned his body to face you fully now. his eyes search your face for a long moment before they trail down, landing on the snowflake pendant resting between your collarbones. his finger trails a path down your throat before tracing around the charm.

“it suits you,” he murmurs. the air in the car is suddenly so very warm, electric with the energy between the two of you. he’s so close to you, you wonder if he can hear your heart racing right now. if he knows its because of him.

“coryo,” you exhale, breath trembling slightly. you feel his touch again against your cheek, cradling it softly in his palm. his eyes seem to almost glow in the low light, the streetlights you pass making them appear almost translucent when they reflect off his irises. you both lean in simultaneously, eyes fluttering closed.

the first brush of coriolanus’s lips is soft, curious even. as if he’s giving you the chance to push him away. instead, you sigh and melt into him. his free hand comes to rest on your waist, squeezing softly as he kisses you more firmly when you don’t pull away. his mouth is plush and slick against your own, tasting like the sugary posca he’d drank.

you lose yourself to his kisses, slow and languid and indulgent, making you dizzy with how good it feels. coriolanus slides his hand down from your waist to your hip, then further down to tease at the slit in your dress that splits over your thigh. his teeth nip at your lip playfully, and he smiles against your mouth when you gasp at the way his fingers curl behind your knee to hitch your leg up over his own.

he encourages you to move so you can straddle him, sitting pretty in your silky dress on his lap. your hands land on his broad shoulders while his lips parts from yours, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses along your neck. his tongue drags along the side of your throat, making you shiver and moan softly.

“there’s a good girl,” he mutters, hands smoothing up and down your thighs that splay over his. “you make such pretty sounds for me.”

coriolanus’s words make you feel lightheaded, paired with his wandering touch and exploratory kisses. you shift in his lap just slightly, gasping softly when you feel how hard he is beneath you. his cock presses into the apex of your thighs, his hips pushing up subtly. he lets out a quiet groan, the hottest sound you’ve ever heard. the uncontrolled noise spurs you on, gives you the nerve to cup his jaw and bring his mouth back to yours and demand more of his heated kisses.

“stay with me tonight, my darling,” he pleads, panting against your mouth.

“yes.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Behind the Lens and the Heart

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Y/N joins the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team as the new social media manager. From their first encounter, Lewis Hamilton is captivated by Y/N’s charm and passion. Despite his subtle advances and constant attention, Y/N remains oblivious.

______________________________________________________________

It was Y/N's first day as the new social media manager for the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team. The air was electric with the hum of engines, the chatter of mechanics, and the focused energy of the team. Walking through the paddock, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was a dream job, and she was determined to make her mark.

As she entered the team's motorhome, she was greeted by familiar faces from screens—engineers, PR reps, and, of course, the drivers. Her first task was a straightforward one: create a fun video to promote the upcoming Grand Prix. She was excited but a little anxious about asking one of the world’s most famous athletes to participate.

"Okay, first day," Y/N muttered to herself, straightening her posture. "You’ve got this."

She approached Lewis Hamilton, who was sitting at a table, reviewing some data with his engineer. He looked up as she approached, and the world seemed to slow down for a moment.

"Hi, Lewis," she said, her voice steady. "I’m Y/N, the new social media manager. I was wondering if you’d be up for a quick video?"

Lewis smiled, his warm eyes locking onto hers. For him, it was as if time had frozen. The moment she walked in, something inside him had clicked. She had a presence that was impossible to ignore—confident yet humble, with an infectious energy.

"Of course, Y/N," he replied, his voice smooth and inviting. "What do you need me to do?"

Y/N’s heart fluttered slightly at his easygoing nature. "I was thinking something fun—maybe a challenge with you and George? It doesn’t have to be anything serious, just something the fans will love."

Lewis chuckled, nodding. "Sounds good to me. Where do you want to shoot it?"

"How about in the garage? It’ll give the fans a behind-the-scenes feel," she suggested.

"Perfect," Lewis agreed, standing up. As they walked towards the garage, Y/N explained the concept, her enthusiasm clear in every word. Lewis listened intently, more focused on her than on the actual content of the video.

When they arrived, George Russell joined them, and the filming began. Y/N directed the drivers through a light-hearted quiz about the team’s history, throwing in some funny questions about their personal lives. The banter between Lewis and George was natural, and the video turned out better than she had imagined.

As they wrapped up, Y/N thanked them both. "Thanks, Lewis. Thanks, George. This was great. The fans are going to love it."

Lewis grinned at her, his gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. "Anytime, Y/N. Let me know if you need anything else."

She nodded, her mind already racing with ideas for the next video. Little did she know, Lewis was already thinking about how he could spend more time with her.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N settled into her role, creating content that the fans loved. Every time she needed a driver for a video, Lewis was always eager to participate. What she didn’t notice, however, was how he would light up whenever she approached, or how he made a point to seek her out during breaks.

One afternoon, after a long day of shooting and editing, Y/N was packing up her equipment when Lewis walked into the media room.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey, Lewis," she replied with a smile. "What’s up?"

"I was just wondering… a few of us are grabbing dinner tonight. Would you like to join us?" He asked, his tone casual, but there was a hint of something more in his eyes.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, caught off guard. "Dinner? With you guys?"

"Yeah, just a small group. It’s nothing formal, just some good food and conversation," Lewis explained, hoping she’d say yes.

"Sure, that sounds nice," she finally agreed. "Thanks for the invite."

As they headed out to the restaurant later that evening, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a casual dinner. But she brushed the thought aside—after all, why would someone like Lewis Hamilton be interested in her?

The restaurant was cozy and intimate, a stark contrast to the fast-paced world of Formula 1. Lewis, George, and a few other team members were there, but Y/N quickly realized that Lewis had positioned himself next to her at the table.

Throughout the evening, Lewis engaged her in conversation, asking about her interests, her life before joining the team, and her thoughts on the upcoming races. He was genuinely interested in everything she had to say, his attention never wavering.

"You’re really passionate about what you do," Lewis remarked at one point, his eyes softening as he spoke. "It’s refreshing."

"Thanks," Y/N replied, a little shy under his intense gaze. "I love storytelling, and this job is a perfect mix of creativity and excitement."

Lewis smiled, pleased with her response. "You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. The fans are really connecting with the content you’re creating."

Y/N blushed, not used to such direct praise. "Thank you, Lewis. That means a lot coming from you."

As the evening went on, Y/N found herself relaxing, enjoying the easy conversation and the warm atmosphere.

The next race weekend was hectic, with Y/N busier than ever. She was filming content non-stop, managing the team’s social media accounts, and coordinating interviews. But no matter how busy she was, Lewis always found a way to interact with her.

"Y/N, do you need help with anything?" he asked one morning, spotting her juggling a camera, a microphone, and a tablet.

She looked up, surprised. "I think I’ve got it, but thanks, Lewis. Aren’t you supposed to be in a briefing?"

Lewis shrugged, a grin playing on his lips. "It can wait. I’d rather make sure you’re not overwhelmed."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "I appreciate it, but I can handle it. You’ve got a race to win!"

"Fair enough," he said, his tone light. "But don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything."

As the weekend progressed, Y/N noticed how Lewis seemed to go out of his way to be near her. Whether it was offering to participate in last-minute videos, or simply stopping by to chat, he always made sure to engage with her.

But despite all the signs, Y/N remained oblivious to his true feelings. To her, it was just Lewis being friendly—after all, he was known for his kindness and approachability.

It wasn’t until the final day of the Grand Prix weekend that Y/N began to suspect something more was going on. The race had been intense, with Lewis finishing on the podium. The team was ecstatic, and the celebrations were in full swing.

As the champagne sprayed and the cheers filled the air, Y/N was busy capturing the moment on camera. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she found Lewis standing there, his race suit unzipped, revealing the Mercedes-branded shirt underneath. His face was glowing with the thrill of victory.

"Can I have a word?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the noise.

"Of course," Y/N replied, stepping aside with him.

Lewis led her to a quieter corner of the garage, away from the commotion. For a moment, he simply looked at her, his expression serious but soft.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something," he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion. "From the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. You’re smart, passionate, and you have this energy that’s just… captivating."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. "Lewis, I—"

He cut her off gently, placing a hand on her arm. "I like you, Y/N. I’ve been trying to show it in little ways, but I think it’s time I just say it. I’m really into you."

Y/N stared at him, her mind racing. "But… you’re the Lewis Hamilton. You could have anyone. Why me?"

Lewis chuckled, his hand sliding down to take hers. "Why not you? You’re amazing, Y/N. I don’t care about the titles or the fame. I care about who you are—how you make me feel. And I think… no, I know, that I want to get to know you better. Much better."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming happiness. "I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve been so focused on work, I didn’t even realize…"

"You don’t have to say anything right now," Lewis said, squeezing her hand gently. "I just wanted you to know how I feel. Take your time, Y/N. There’s no rush."

[drabblesandimagines]

Hitched

Leon Kennedy x fem reader, established relationship Couple of swears, mentions of blood

The sudden noise behind you sends you spinning on your heels to confront it. Your pistol is raised, finger slightly squeezing the trigger in preparation to blow the next monstrosity’s head off only to see Leon’s alarmed face, his hands up in surrender, gun dangling from his grip.

“Whoa, baby, it’s just me.”

You exhale in relief, immediately dropping and holstering your weapon. “Sorry – jumpy. You okay?”

You look him up and down, looking for injuries after you’d been separated a little while ago. It felt like every other mission these days led to the two of you working your way through underground caverns, as evil scientists seem to just love setting up their bases there, with ill-maintained wooden walkways that collapsed below your feet. Leon had gone toppling down the last one, reassuring you he was fine - he did always manage to forward roll his way out of taking any impact – and said by the map he’d pilfered from one of the supply rooms, it looks like your paths would cross again eventually and it meant the two of you could cover more ground until then.

“I’m fine. You, however…” He steps forward, grasps you by the elbow and pulls it up gently in front of you to reveal a nasty slice across your forearm, dripping blood on the dirt.

“Slashed out at me as I took it out. Misjudged the space. I blame the moody lighting.” You joke, but Leon doesn’t respond, inspecting the damage.

“I’m okay. We should keep moving, we can’t be far from-”

“Uh-uh. Come on, there’s an alcove just back this way to provide us some cover whilst I see to this.” His grip is still firmly on your elbow as he tugs you back the way he emerged from.

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna leave a blood trail if we don’t. Besides, as your fiancé, I insist.”

The fiancé card is not one that Leon pulls out often on a mission, but has started to do so considering how long your engagement has been. He’d proposed two years ago, literally the moment he got you within eyesight as he returned from a solo mission to Spain to rescue the President’s daughter. He didn’t have a ring – later rectified – but just dropped to his knees and asked you to become his wife. It wasn’t like you hadn’t started wedding planning. There was a folder of brochures under the coffee table, half-drafted emails to venues and caterers on your laptop, saved photos of wedding gowns and centerpieces… But it just felt impossible to ever truly put a plan in place, nail down a concrete date, you didn’t know where the two of you were going to be one month from the next. Sorry, terrorism, could you wait a week or two for the Kennedy wedding to pass first?

“Okay.” You concede and allow him to guide you back a few hundred metres to the alcove – it’s more a deep crevice in the wall, but it won’t be obvious the two of you are hiding in there if anyone or anything was to stroll by.

“Sit.” He points to the space furthest back and you drop down, crossing your legs beneath you so he can crouch down in front. You lay your wounded arm out in front of you with a slight wince. If you were being honest, it did hurt.

“Here, chew this. It’ll make you feel better.” He passes you one of those stupid green herbs from his supplies. The man swears by them as a natural pain reliever – useful in a bind, he claims.

“Ugh, really? But they’re so bitter.” You shake your head, “I’ll be fine without.”

He quirks his eyebrow at you, pulling out a roll of gauze from one of his pouches to begin to dress your wound. “Sweetheart, either you chew it, or I will go mamma bird on your ass, chew it for you and then kiss you so hard you’ll have no other choice but to swallow.”

You laugh, dryly. “I think that might be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Chew.”

Again, you concede. Leon won’t stop at anything to ensure you’re taken care of. As his gentle fingers begin to wrap the bandage tightly around your wound in an effort to stem the bleeding, you crunch the herb between your teeth. It’s scratchy, horrendously bitter, makes you want to gag almost. You can’t chew fast enough to get rid of it. He is right about them, though – a moment or two later the stabbing, stinging pain in your forearm where the creature slashed you dulls to a low, much more tolerable ache.

He has a smug look on his face, knowing your tells too well.

“Told you it would make you feel better.”

He finishes wrapping the gauze around your arm and ties it off with a tight knot, slicing the excess off with his knife. He puts away the roll before he turns and sits down besides you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, kissing your crown. You can feel his heart pounding beneath your cheek – he was worried about you. He knows you can take care of yourself, you’ve been through as much hell as he has, but seeing you injured always sets him off.

You know you should press on – BOWs wait for no man - but it’s clear the two of you need a moment to catch your breath, take stock of what’s occurred, work out how you’ve ended up here - again.

You begin to fiddle with the engagement ring that hangs around your neck. Too much risk wearing it on your finger when out on missions, but it felt odd and wrong to leave it at home on your dressing table, so you’d settled for having it like this, tucking it away on a chain out of sight, but playing with it had soon turned into a nervous habit.

Leon clocks your fidgeting immediately and takes your hand, lacing his fingers through. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

“About?” He probes, gently.

“What we’re doing here.”

“You forget the brief?” Leon teases and you elbow him lightly in the stomach – not that you’d manage much damage given how muscular he is.

“Like, is this just our life now? Every couple of months, another set of BOWs appears, we deal with and eliminate - rinse and repeat.”

“I…” He sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I hope not. I’d like to think that one day we stop them all and we get a pretty sweet retirement package.”

“I want to get married.” You say, softly.

“Hey, I’m the one who did the proposing, you’re the one who said you wanted to wait until-”

“I know, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t keep holding off for a big event that I’m not sure we’ll ever get to have.” You pause a moment as you sit up, turning to face him head on. “The second we are out of here, I want to marry you.”

“Seriously?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously. Registry office. We’ll wear what we’re wearing – blood splatters, camos, bruises, all of that. I don’t care. I just want to be your wife already.”

“My wife, huh?” He grins at the idea. “Yeah, I want that too. I can’t lie, though, I was looking forward to seeing you in a wedding dress.”

“You will. We’ll do that later – a party or whatever, something that can be rescheduled easy enough if the world goes to shit. But this, this can just be us, huh?”

“Just us, baby.” He places a hand on the side of your face and guides you in for a heated kiss, teasing your bottom lip with his teeth until you permit his tongue entrance and the wrestle for dominance begins. After a moment or two, you place your palm flat on his chest and push back.

“We’re getting distracted, Leon.”

“We sure are.” He gets to his feet and offers you his hand, pulling you up with ease. “Come on, let’s go kill these bastards and get hitched.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, handsome.”

--

“Okay, Leon said it was casual, but I didn’t picture this casual.” Hunnigan appears behind you in the restroom mirror, dressed in her usual work suit, albeit with a paper bag in hand. Leon had radio’ed in as soon as your objective was clear – DSO teams swooping in to clear up and confiscate and destroy the weapons retrieved – and asked Hunnigan to get them into the registry office today.

“Yeah, we were going for work casual, but we had to leave the weapons in the SUV.” You shrug, washing the grime off your face in the sink. You supposed you should at least prep that much. “Thank you for getting us in.”

She shrugs, “It was one of Leon’s easier requests, funnily enough.” She holds the bag in front of her in offering. “For you.”

“Just me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t think Leon will like it as much.” You take the bag with a smile and place it down on the counter to open it – a small bouquet of white daisies within.

“Just so I can catch the bouquet, obviously.”

--

Hunnigan acts as the witness, of course, as you find yourself standing in front of the officiant. He barely batted an eyelid at your attire and you think he must’ve seen all sorts come through the door in his time, so the couple who decided to get married in tactical gear, bruised and bandaged, is just another day.

“Do we have rings?” The officiant questions and before you can say no, Hunnigan steps forward again, handing over a box.

“Should’ve known you’d have our ring sizes on file.” Leon laughs.

“Had a suspicion it might come in handy one day.” She smiles, taking her place back in a seat behind the two of you. The officiant opens the box to reveal two simple gold wedding bands.

Leon takes your hand then – his leather gloves removed for the occasion – and smiles. He’s got a bruise blossoming on his left cheek, his hair’s a beautiful mess, but he’s here and you’re here and it’s perfect.

“If you’ll repeat after me.” The officiant looks at Leon, who continues to look lovingly at you, biting his lip in an excited smile. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy…”

He wets his lips with his tongue and squeezes your hand. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy….”

The vows are over before you know it. You feel giddy, a combination of exhaustion and love, surely.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. It gives me great honour to introduce to you,” he looks at Hunnigan, “the new Mr and Mrs Kennedy. You may now kiss the bride.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, pulling you in close and into a bruising kiss, dipping you back a little before returning you to your feet. “Just a little show for our guest.” He whispers in your ear, nodding his head over at an applauding Hunnigan.

“Dare I ask about honeymoon plans?” Hunnigan comments as the three of you exit the registry office. “I’m expecting the two of you back in HQ tomorrow for a debrief, after all.”

“I don’t know. Any ideas, beautiful?” Leon brings up your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss across your knuckles, the gold band sitting snugly on your ring finger.

“Yeah, I have one.” You nod. “I wanna burger – a real greasy one – and fries. And a beer.”

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” He drops your hand and wraps his arm around your waist and slips another under your knees, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms and you squeal.

“Gotta carry my beautiful wife over the threshold of the nearest diner, don’t I?”

You grin. “That is the tradition. Oh, and speaking of traditions…” You toss the bouquet over Leon’s shoulder into Hunnigan’s arms. “Look who’s next!”

“On second thought…” she walks over to you and places them back into your hands, “keep it. I might as well wait for the redo. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. As a wedding gift, I won’t expect you in until the afternoon.”

“Too kind, Hunnigan.” Leon smirks as she waves over her shoulder and heads towards the parking lot.

Once she’s out of sight, you grab the back of your husband’s head, pulling him down into a chaste kiss and smile up at him. “I love you, Leon.”

“I love you too, Mrs Kennedy.”

--

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[grandisknight]

rafayel: an artist's nails

summary: It’s been a while since your last nail endeavor, and you seek out your creative lover to fill in the missing details once again.

tags: established relationship, fluff, silly rafayel, gender neutral!reader, kisses, light banter, nail polish

wc: 1.0k | (ao3)

a/n: hi hi! eek this is my first time posting like this to tumblr, i'm not too familiar with it so please forgive me for any mistakes (⸝⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝⸝ ;) i hope my short but sweet little headcanon does rafmc some justice! the idea came to me randomly while angst writing (hhhh) so here we are c:

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

“Again?” He looks down at you from the impressive height of his ladder, palette and brush paused in mid motion. The canvas stretching his wall had streaks of pale blue, contrasting the rich sapphire that lay underneath them. Another masterpiece in the making, and you’ve caught him at a somewhat opportune time to air out your proposal.

“Please? I promise it’ll be the last time!” You gave him your best pout, hands clasped together in a pseudo prayer.

“That’s what you said two weeks ago, my love.” Rafayel shakes his head.

“Ra—fa—yel!” You called out, purposefully stringing his vowels in a way that he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to.

“Okay, okay. Give me a moment, yeah?”

Leaving his instruments behind, he descends from the perch of his ladder. Dusting off his hands on the edge of his slacks, he straightens his posture towards you with a few strides. Arms crossed over his chest, the warmth of coral and cooled blue examined your presence up close. “You don’t seem injured. Mission went well?”

“It did! But that’s not what I’m here for.” You flash your hands towards him, wiggling the tips of your fingers for dramatic effect. “Look at how much they’ve grown! They’re begging for a new design, and only one curated by Linkon City’s best painter could do the job.”

The bed of coral acrylic was slowly pushing past your natural nail, unflattering to the eye and no longer holding the fresh sheen it once had. It was long overdue for a retouch, and you trusted your boyfriend’s talented eye to decorate your fingers once more.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he half-heartedly remarks, but takes your hands into his own regardless. His fine fingers delicately trace over the rounded edges of your acrylics, tilting them alongside his head to capture their finish in the warm lighting of his art studio. “Hm… They are longer than before, I’ll give you that.”

An internal score in your mind was being kept, and you just landed your first point. “Exactly. So, I was thinking for the next design—“

“Woah, excuse you.” His fingers intertwined with yours, passing his warmth into your palms. He tugs you closer, hands closed like the prayer you presented just moments ago. Rafayel quirks a brow as he continues.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

You paused, a blink of confusion crossing your face. “…Am I?”

The plush of his lips puff out like a fish, awaiting your realization. Ah. You had to pay the kiss toll first—how could you forget?

You met his pout halfway, lightly pressing a kiss to pay your dues forward. Rafayel quickly chases your leaning figure, peppering a second, and then a third, to the lips curling into a faint smile at his antics and he mirrored yours all the same.

“Okay—Raf—Mm!”

He swallowed your interruptions with ones of his own, a barrage of straight smooches fluttering over your mouth. Only after the nth kiss did he finally part, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles with a hum in satisfaction.

“Payment accepted.” Rafayel lowered your hands, only to gently tug them in the direction of his desk.

Pieces of sketch paper and paints, pencils and more laid across the surface as you approached. He lets go momentarily, pulling out a chair and swiping away some tabletop space, before patting on the cushion in invitation.

“Alright, why don’t we start sketching out your ideas, yeah? Let’s see if we can make this new set better than the last.”

…

No sooner than a week later did you return to Mo Art Studio, feeling particularly energized as you practically skipped into his living space.

“Ah, you’re back.”

Rafayel called out to you before you had the chance to speak, swiping another shade of cerulean over the canvas. He looks over his shoulder, eyes twinkling at your appearance and brow upturned in curiosity. “You seem like you’re in a good mood. Did you get them done today?”

You nodded, waving him down with an equally bright expression. “Take a break! I want you to admire your masterpiece.” With an outstretched hand, you await his descending figure in a similar sense of deja vu.

“Yeah? You’re already here though,” Rafayel teases, taking hold of your invitation in turn. “But alrighty. Let’s go.”

Natural habits led your bodies to walk past the floor to ceiling entrance and into the sands hugging his estate. Seagulls chirp overhead as the fragrance of salty seas sting your nose, welcoming in the warmth of sunshine and ocean views all around.

“Maybe the crab from last week is still around,” you mention. “I think it was this way—Ah!”

Rafayel snickers at your enthusiasm, but paused you short of your wandering in an effort to pull you closer to him. He raises your combined hands outwards, turning them in every direction as he observes the new design.

Speckles of pale white and faint pink hugged the tip of your nail, pearly effects blending into the azure gradient that filled the rest of the space. Light traces of a circle or two resemble bubbles, a key seashell charm on your pinky finger and an exclusive Lemurian insignia resembling the bond over his heart were all littered across the set.

He nods in approval, and you could practically see the sharp rise of his shoulders in pride as he spoke. “Ah, they turned out really good this time. I wonder whooo designed them.”

You lean into his playful stance, pressing a kiss to his cheek and watching as his skin flushes in an adoring rouge. “Thank you, my love. Next time, we should do your nails too!”

“Yeah? I don’t know if I want to have another pot with steam drawn by you again,” he retorts, laughing as you lightly pushed his shoulder.

You raised your voice in self-defense, offering him a scolding glare. “Hey! I told you it was a steamed fish. Steamed fish! You of all people should know that well!”

Your voices faded away as you left your footsteps in the sand, the low tides pushing to support the harmony of your banter as the sun slowly settled. Safe to say, you wouldn’t be letting go of these nails blessed by the ocean anytime soon.

[forever-rogue]

My friend, can you believe after all these years I’ve come to finally appreciate Steve as more than a friend?

So I’ve come with a request. A very reluctant friends to lovers w Steve! Maybe Reader has never understood why all the girls love Steve and has always been just a good friend to him until one day. Something just clicks and he’s suddenly seen in a different light all together.

AN | In which you fall for Steve slowly, and then realize all at once 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’m going to be single forever,” you sighed as you sat down across from Steve, happy to see that he’d already ordered your favorite coffee. He raised an eyebrow in greeting as you reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Your date went that well?” he grabbed his own coffee and took a long sip as you shrugged.

“He wasn’t the worst,” you rested your cheek in your hand, “until he dropped me off at home and asked me to suck him off before I got out of his car. So, putting it lightly, I won’t be seeing him ever again.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he gave you a small smile as you just shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t that sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that but not sorry that it didn’t work out. He loathed the idea of you going out with anyone else, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks,” at least you always had Steve. You hoped that one day you would find a man as good as him. He was everything to you, and you hoped he knew that as well, “one day it’ll work out with someone. Until then, I guess I have to keep kissing the frogs.”

He made a small sound and nodded in agreement. It was then that you noticed the girl behind the counter watched the two of you - Steve - with a wistful look on her face. Your lips drew in a thin line as you tried to hide your eye roll. It wasn’t that uncommon; girls often stared at him wherever you went. 

“What?” he nudged your foot under the table and shot you a coy smile, “what’s that look for?”

“Nothing…”

“Liar.”

“Fine,” you leaned in closer so only he could hear you, “that girl behind the counter is practically drooling over you.”

“Oh,” he laughed softly before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s so bad about that, huh? Are you jealous?”

That made you scoff slightly as you waved your hand at him. That was definitely not the word you’d use. He was your best friend after all, “as if. That’s not quite the word I would use. Annoyed? Bemused? Those are more accurate.”

“Very funny,” this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “would you want to do tonight?”

“I dunno,” to be honest, you were still a little down after your disastrous date, “whatever you want to do is fine, Stevie.”

“Nope,” he stood up and reached for your hand. Motioning for you to follow him, “that’s not what I asked - what do you want to do? You know I’m just happy to  spend time with you.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Harrington,” you slipped your hand into his, “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

And you meant it. Everything was a million times better with him. 

“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you, making your heart almost melt, “I’ll pick tonight then and you pick next time. Deal?”

“Deal!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were taking a walk around the park to kill some before your dinner reservations, hot chocolates in hand. Steve had surprised you with it since you’d been whining about how much you wanted before meeting up. You were reminded again just how amazing and wonderful your best friend was. 

“It’s pretty out,” you mused as you lightly kicked a big pile of golden and orange leaves. It was almost winter, and you were taking advantage of the weather before it got too cold to do anything for a few months.

“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at any of the nature surrounding you. He was looking right at you, “it really is.”

Before you could say anything else, you heard a small scream coming from near the playground. The two of you looked at each other before rushing towards the sound. When you reached the jungle gym, you found a young girl sitting at the bottom of the slide, crying as she held her leg. 

You looked around but didn’t see any adults nearby. Steve didn’t waste a moment before handing you his cup and going over to the small girl. A couple of other kids were still running around and playing, but a few stopped to watch him.

“Hey sweetheart,” he dropped to his knees so he was on her level, his voice soft and gentle, “what happened?”

“I fell off the slide and hurt my leg,” she looked at him with big, wide eyes, cheeks wet with tears, “it hurts really bad.”

“Can I take a look at it?” your heart melted at how gentle and tender he was. Steve just had such a way with everyone - but kids especially. It definitely made you feel some kind of way. The girl nodded immediately, her dark curls bobbing as he looked at her leg. He made a few sounds before reaching up and wiping away some of her tears, “the good news is that I think you’ll be just fine. The even better news is that you’re super brave for how well you handled this.”

“Promise?” she asked and Steve held out his pinkie to her. 

“Pinky promise,” he grinned as she laughed softly at him, “did you come here with your parents?”

“Yeah,” she looked around, “they were going for a walk and said they’d be back soon. I was just playing with the other kids.”

“Maybe we should go and find them, huh?” he ruffled her hair and she nodded, slowly attempting to stand up. Steve held up his hand in order to help steady her and she gladly took it, “what’s your name?”

“Lucy,” she reached for his hand and started to slowly walk. Her knee was skinned, as it often happened with kids, but otherwise she was unscathed. She paused and looked up at her savior, “what’s your name?”

“Steve,” he told her and she looked over at you. Steve followed her gaze and smiled at you before offering her your name. Lucy grinned and waved her small hand eagerly at you. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” she loudly whispered to him, making you laugh softly as you pretended not to hear, “she’s really pretty.”

“She’s my best friend,” there was something about the way he said it that made your heart feel a little bit of a pang. It just didn’t sound quite…right. But you weren’t going to question that just yet, “she’s really nice too. C’mon kiddo, let’s go and find your parents.”

“Okay,” Lucy started to pull his hand and marched in the direction of where her parents would be. Steve followed diligently behind her, shooting you a wink as you trailed after the two of them. Yeah… this was definitely making you feel something. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it was like something had shifted in the way you viewed Steve. Not that you’d ever had anything but love for him, but it was starting to feel a little…different. It felt like you were seeing him in this new, honeyed golden light. 

It was like you were noticing so many things about him for the first time, despite the fact that he hadn’t changed a single thing about himself. You noticed how he always held the door open for others, how he helped anyone that needed, when he’d let people in line go in front of him, when he’d pay for someone else’s coffee just to make their day. The way that people, especially women, always looked at him in wonder, suddenly made sense. He was just…everything. And you’d been so oblivious the whole time. 

“What’s wrong?” You were at the grocery store with Steve, but you’d stopped mid aisle when you saw him helping some with getting a few things off a high shelf. He turned back to you and gently tugged on your sleeve, “are you okay? You’re being weird.”

“You’re being weird,” your face was practically burning at having been caught daydreaming about your best friend. He snorted in amusement, “sorry, just thinking.”

“Must be something important,” he gently tugged you along, back over to the car, “if it’s got you so distracted.”

“It’s…” you. But you weren’t about to admit that just that so randomly in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe you’d never admit it. You weren’t completely sure yet, “nothing. It’s…nothing at all.”

“You sure?” he looked concerned for a moment, giving your hand a small squeeze. 

“Positive,” you really liked the feeling of his hand in yours. You’d never noticed just how much, “just been feeling a little…off lately I think.”

He tutted softly, stopping to look at you fully. He reached up and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. Steve gently turned your head from side to side and hummed softly, “just as I thought.”

“What?” your lips pulled into a pout as you wondered what he could possibly say, “Steve.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he concluded as you scoffed, reluctantly pulling his hands away from your face. He was getting too close to unnerving you and making you spill your guts out. You weren’t ready to. Ugh. He laughed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you for a hug, “but I love you regardless.”

Part of you was convinced that he knew exactly what was going on in your mind and he was doing this to torture you, “love you too.”

This was going to be a whole situation. You just knew it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tonight was the night you were finally getting to see the movie you’d been thinking about for months. You weren’t sure if Steve actually wanted to see it, but he was a good sport for being willing to go with you. In true Steve fashion, he’d even paid for the tickets and all the snacks you’d both wanted. 

“I’ll get all this stuff if you can grab the popcorn,” he took the stuff without even waiting for an answer. He shot you a quick wink, “thanks.”

You smiled at him, watching as the cashier watched him go as she got your bag of popcorn together. He really did women longing after him left and right; you could understand why. He was good looking and an almost golden retriever of a human being. 

“Your boyfriend is very sweet,” the woman had a big smile on her face as you raised an eyebrow in confusion. What boyfriend was she talking about? You looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the theater lobby. The only person you spotted was Steve.

“I don’t…”

“And so handsome too,” her voice sounded almost dreamy as she looked between the two of you. You made a small sound before taking the bag of popcorn that she slid across the counter and slowly made your way back to Steve. 

“Everything alright?” he asked softly as the two of you started to walk towards the designated theater, “you look…worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you promised with a stiff smile as he opened the door and ushered you in. You were surprised he managed it all considering his arms were full of drinks and snacks and you were only carrying the popcorn, “thanks, Stevie.”

He hummed in content as you picked out a pair of seats away from others near the top. You settled in and made yourself comfortable, finding yourself leaning into Steve’s warm body. He smiled as he put his arm around you, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. 

You’d been wanting to see this movie since you’d heard about it months ago. You’d even picked out the perfect evening to go, when the theater wouldn’t be too crowded and you could enjoy the experience. But…you couldn’t focus on it at all; your mind kept drifting back to Steve. There was something in the way that lady had spoken about him that got to you. 

Steve who had always been there for you. Steve that had been your best friend since the day he met you almost five years ago. Steve that would do - and has done - anything for you. 

And that’s when it hit you. He wasn’t just your best friend, he was your everything. When you put the pieces together it made sense why people often thought you were together. Now you just had to figure out what to do with your revelation. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn’t taken much of the movie in and Steve had noticed. Though it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were distracted when you weren’t responding to a single comment or question from Steve. 

The two of you walked back to his car in relative silence, a small distance that felt far too great between your bodies. Before you could open the passenger side door, Steve leaned against it and softly shook his head, “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.”

Well. That hadn’t entirely gone to plan. Not that you were sure you even had a plan. It just short of…happened. 

“What?” he laughed nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that he’d heard you correctly, but also didn’t want to flatter himself. Not yet anyway. 

“I…I think I just realized during the movie,” your entire face felt way too hot, especially with the cool winter breeze that was surrounding you, “and it just…caught me off guard.”

“Off guard?”

“I…I think I’ve always known I just never…realized,” you whispered, turning your face down towards the ground, studying the laces of his sneakers. Steve wasn’t quite sure how you felt about the revelation, “but now I know. I’m sorry.”

“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you looked up at him, his big brown eyes all soft. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure if he was serious or not. 

“Because. I think I’ve just ruined our entire friendship,” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “because it’s going to be weird now that I know I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same way.”

“Whoa,” he reached for your hands and gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrists, “who said I didn’t feel the same?”

“But you don’t…I,” you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Oh. Oh. Steve beamed as he watched you come to yet another huge realization, “you love me?”

“Duh,” he teased in that gentle tone you loved so much, “took you way too long to catch up.”

“How long?” how long had you been blind?

“About five years.”

“But we met…five years ago.”

“I know,” this time he flashed you a shy smile as your expression softened. He’d been there this entire time but you had been so blind to him. Everything you’d been searching for and wanting had always been, quite literally, right in front of your face. 

“Steve,” you looked down at your hands, were still safely and warmly developed in his, “Steve.”

He brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You warmed at the touch and it took everything in your power not to jump on him then and there and kiss him silly. He must have been thinking the same thing, “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, but umm, can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you knew that, deep down, you’d been wanting him to ask for so long, “yes.”

He took your face gently in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently. It was almost ridiculous just how far gone he was for you, “you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could argue with him, and he knew you well enough to know that you would, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, testing the waters to see what it was like for both of you. You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing softly at his touch. That seemed to be all he needed in order to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him. 

Neither of you wanted to break apart and only broke apart very reluctantly when you were desperate for a breath of air. The two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles before laughing. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words but there didn’t appear to be quite anything to properly convey everything you were feeling. You touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed gently, “I know.”

“Oh,” you looked up and a few drops fell on your cheeks, “let’s get out of here.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“I want you to come with me,” you whispered, “I don’t want to say good night just yet.”

“Me neither,” he opened the door for you and helped you inside before gently closing the floor and going around to slide into the driver’s seat, “does this mean I can kiss you all the time?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” you grinned at him, “you can kiss me anytime.”

“Good,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “‘cause I’m going to be doing that a lot.”

[saekkas]

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐓

summary: the day gojo satoru came home, everything changed– the day the strongest returned scarred, something shifted.

tags: 775 wc | gender neutral reader | angst with some fluff mixed in | slight manga spoilers | satoru keeps his scars from his fight with sukuna | deals with depression and loss

it’s warm. the chilly, almost numbing, weather from winter has thawed– leaving behind patches of ashen snow. the birds chirp outside of your apartment window, calling out to each other as they huddle for warmth.

you watch, enraptured, as a mother bird guards its fledgelings– it preens their wings, maintains its nest by scourging for branches and thickets alike, spreads its wings for when a threat comes near.

it’s almost endearing, how human and animal nature mirror each other so well.

“you okay?” the touch of your hand is feather light, leaving no trace as they trail down satoru’s back. your lover’s quiet– almost uncharacteristically so as he lets you tend to the scars that now litter down his back and throughout his body.

“i’m good,” satoru hums, his eyes plastered on the mugs that are nestled on your nightstand. on some days, when the memories haunt him more than they should, he refuses to speak altogether– lips pressed tight against each other, shoulders slumped as he cradles himself on the bed.

it’s warm, he once told you, eyes so vacant and empty. devoid of the usual bright blue spark they carry.  i like it when it’s warm.

“does it hurt?” you know it doesn’t– know that after what he’s been through, everything’s just another shade of numb. and yet, the tiny whisper in your mind wonders if he truly understands what you’re asking. “you can tell me, y’know? that’s the only way i can help.”

“they’re healed. nothing hurts. not one bit.” satoru grins, showing off his boyish, almost childlike happiness that contrasts the way his eyes are dimmed, hair a mess atop his head.

because that’s who satoru is– who he’s supposed to be. the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, a burden so heavy it dilutes, erases one’s sense of self because if he isn’t the strongest, what else is there to be?

for a fraction of the moment, you let him comfort you– chuckle like everything is the way it was. you miss the sound of his voice, the annoying cackle he lets out just before laughing– most of all, you miss him. the satoru that isn’t a shell of the person he used to be.

your hands glide down the expanse of his back while your eyes roam his face– you take in every individual wound, each a reminder of what he fought for and lost. you wonder what looks back at him when he stares in the mirror.

“i know that,” you mumble, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, gently thumbing his dimple. “but remember what shoko said? it’ll be better if we put some ointment on them.”

“right. right.” the roll of his eyes might have been endearing had he not stiffened at your words. “we should have my wounds healed so they look less ugly.”

the term wound sounds like such an insult for how gentle your touches are when he’s with you.

“hey,” you whisper, watching as his eyelashes flutter the moment your hand threads through his hair. “they’re not ugly, satoru. no part of you could ever be ugly.”

you don’t let him speak, shake your head when he opens his mouth to object. “they’re like stars, y’know?”

“i think you meant to say ‘like pimples,’” he snorts, sounding playful as he waves a hand to dismiss your statement, but you can see it– the hatred and anger deeply rooted in his tone. “or ugly warts.”

“they’re a constellation of stars, satoru. one that’s written on your skin.” you tilt his head upwards, watch as his pupils dilate– a sea of black drowning in blue. he shivers, spine straightening when your fingers trace his jawline. “each one so pretty like they were individually brushed on by a painter.”

you press a kiss to his lips, let him feel the expanse of your love as your hands move before they rest on his chest– you feel his heart thud against your palm, a gentle but needed reminder that even when all else fails, you still have one another. “you are my world and all my stars, satoru. the sky would be so empty without you.”

“then, i’ll consider them yours,” he whispers after a moment of reprieve, leaning his forehead against yours– he lets his façade fall, unhooks the mask he wears for the world. baring his soul wide for you to see. you soften at the tears that pool in his eyes, like diamonds glistening in a storm. “just like how i am too.”

to most people, the strongest may have fallen– but, in your eyes, he’s still your saving grace.

[togrowoldinv]

Tattoos

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Natasha invites you to a pool party and you see more of her body than you ever have

Note: I am a simp for Scarlett’s tattoos so this is definitely inspired by her. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

You’ve been dating Natasha for a few months now, so it felt only natural for her to invite you to little Morgan Stark’s birthday party.

You picked out a gift for the girl together and Natasha promised to pick you up on her motorcycle.

She shows up right on time and walks up to your door. She knocks a few times and you open the door.

“Hey there,” Natasha says when she sees you. She steps forward and kisses your cheek.

“You’re wearing-“

“It’s a pool party,” she explains her summer attire. Shorts and a tshirt. You’ve not seen her in this clothing before.

“Oh shit. I guess I might need to grab a swimsuit,” you say. She nods. You step back and gesture for her to come in.

“I have mine on, so yes you should get one too,” she says. You freeze for a second thinking of her in a swimsuit. “We have about five minutes.”

She pulls you out of your trance and you go to your dresser to find a bathing suit. You put in on under your shirt and change into some shorts as well.

Natasha is waiting patiently when you emerge from your room.

“Ready?” She asks.

“Definitely.”

She places her hand on the small of your back and leads you to her motorcycle. Like always, she slips a helmet onto your head and gives you a soft kiss when she buckles it tight.

The ride to Tony’s goes quickly and the sun is beating down on you as you approach the party. You’ll definitely have to get in the pool to cool down.

You greet everyone and drop the present off at the gift table. You’ve met the team before, but only briefly. Wanda quickly became a friend though, so you find her when Nat goes inside to ask Pepper if she needs any help.

“Hey y/n!” Wanda greets you with a hug.

“It’s so good to see you again, Wanda!”

“You too. How are things with Natasha?” She asks.

You catch sight of the redhead emerging from the house and you smile at her.

“Pretty perfect. She’s so beautiful and kind,” you say.

Wanda grins at your answer. She knows Natasha is completely enamored by you.

Nat makes her way over to you two and hands you a drink. She shares a light conversation with Wanda.

“I think it’s getting hot enough to swim. What do you think, detka?” She asks you.

“Oh, yeah I think so,” you reply.

She sits her drink down and you anxiously await what kind of bathing suit she might be wearing underneath. She slips off her shorts first and you realize just how toned her legs are. The bikini bottoms don’t leave much to imagination.

Wanda chuckles when you don’t even notice her poking your arm to try and bring you back to reality.

But then Natasha takes her shirt off. You figured you’d notice her breasts first, but instead your eyes are drawn to the tattoo she has right on her ribcage. It looks like an owl with its wings spread wide.

“That’s better already,” Natasha says, turning to you with a smile. She notices your eyes on her tattoo. “I didn’t tell you I had them?” She asks it as a question but she knows the answer.

“Hm? Oh- no,” you say.

“Right. Well I do,” she says. She smirks and starts walking towards the water. It’s then that you notice her back tattoos.

Your knees buckle and Wanda holds your arm up.

“You’re down so bad,” she jokes.

“Did you know she had those?”

“I did, yeah. Only from training.”

“Wow,” you remark. Your eyes are trained on Natasha. She’s playing in the water with Clint’s kids.

You watch on for a while before she’s dragging you into the water with her.

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun,” she says. She leans on the edge of the pool as she reaches for your hand.

You let her grab it and pull you into the water. You kiss her cheek once you come back to the surface.

“I have a feeling you like my tattoos,” Natasha says.

“I do. They’re really hot,” you say honestly. She chuckles and pushes you into the pool edge behind you. Her knee threatens to touch not so innocent places.

“I’m glad you think so. I was waiting for you to find out about them. I wanted it to be during sex, but-“

“I can pretend I didn’t see,” you say.

“Cute.” She kisses your lips ever so quickly. It leaves you hungry for more. “I don’t think anyone will notice if we disappear,” she whispers in your ear. Your eyes widen and she smirks.

If anyone notices you two, they don’t say anything as you make your way into the house.

Now you’ve seen everywhere on Natasha’s body and you want to do it again and again. Thank goodness for her tattoos and a sunny day.

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐬

Your hero was determined to save the day, but you were about to discover something more precious than his priceless smile.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Nurse!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 999

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Fluff, literal tooth rotting fluff, period fic, sick fic, hurt/comfort

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ Look, I fell in love with Nurse!Bucky and it seems a lot of you did too.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ღ Stuff We Did by Michael Giacchino

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ღ @the-slumberparty Week 3 Artistic Liberty Challenge — Masterlist

𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺 ღ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒍𝒍.

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been a few weeks since you were discharged, and by some miracle, it had been a few weeks since your favourite nurse had slipped you a piece of paper with his phone number. You still couldn’t believe it. The two of you hit it off so well when he took you out for coffee on one of his days off, that, naturally, you gathered up what courage you had and asked him out. It was how you had ended up being Bucky’s girlfriend. 

Life wasn’t always going to be so kind, however.

It was like being run over by a truck, and then a train, and just to make matters even better, your period was the final touch. 

You could hear rain pattering against the window and you felt a rush of gratitude to your past self for having the brilliant idea to gather blankets the night before. 

Then, the realisation dawned on you that today was the day - Bucky had today off and he was planning to take you out for a surprise, and you groaned aloud. You reached for your phone and snatched it from your bedside cupboard, the screen lighting up to show a cute selfie you had coerced Bucky into taking, on your first date. 

Bucky’s number dialled and you shuffled back into the covers, burrowing into self-pity while your stomach cramped and everything ached. You didn’t want to disappoint Bucky, but you didn’t think you could even stand long enough to prepare any damn food, let alone cope with the ‘surprise’. 

“Hey, baby girl!”

It was an effort to stem the tears and choke back a sob. “Hey, Buck,” you replied. “I, uh–I’m sorry, I can’t do today-”

“What’s wrong, are you alright?”

You could hear the concern in his voice and you pictured him frowning, a deep furrow between his brows. “I’m sick again, a-and I got my period and-” The dam broke. Your sobs were quiet and muffled behind your hand but you could hear Bucky on the line moving around. 

“Hey, you’re alright, baby, hang on-” There was a clatter and a distant muffled curse. “Are you at your place?”

Nodding automatically, you realised he couldn’t see. “Yeah, I am, please you don’t need-”

“Nuh-uh, stop that.” There were more clattering sounds and then you heard the rustle of a coat. “I need to make a couple stops first, and then I am going to come and take care of my girl, whether she wants me to, or not.”

Sniffling and hiccuping, you didn’t answer. “You sit tight, baby. Can you get up for me and have some water?” You attempted to move but a rippling pain tore through your stomach and hips, all the way up to your shoulders and down to your toes. Your cry of pain was enough to make Bucky speak louder into the phone, “Okay, no, you stay there, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Can you time me, baby girl? It’ll distract you, and if I am late, every minute is a tub of ice-cream I owe you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, hoping that the gratitude you felt could be heard in your small voice. 

“Atta girl, I’ll see you soon.” The line clicked and you opened the timer, doing as he had said. 

Twenty-seven minutes later, there was a shuffling sound at your front door, then a quiet knock. “It’s me, baby girl, can you open the door? Or should I get Wanda?” You pulled your phone closer and messaged: Wanda has the key, she’s WFH today. 

Footsteps sounded and then voices sounded out your door - your neighbour, Wanda, was a close friend and the two of you had keys to one another’s apartments, in the likely event that either of you forgot your keys. “Give her my love, Bucky,” Wanda said and you heard a set of footsteps retreating, while the lock on your front door unlocked with a quiet click. 

“Hey, baby, I’m here.” The door creaked closed and then you could hear Bucky walking around your apartment. “Where are ya, sweetheart?” Bags rustled in his hands and then his head appeared around your doorway, finding you at last amongst your burrito of blankets. “There you are.”

Bucky padded softly into your room and you watched with glassy eyes as he placed down a bag from Target and CVS on the end of your bed, and a brown paper bag on your bedside cupboard. “How’s my girl?”

“I look and feel horrible-”

“You are never not beautiful, even when you’re hurting.” Bucky knelt down so he could look into your face. “Baby, I am a nurse, remember? Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

You were silent for a moment and Bucky brushed his thumb over your cheek, over the tear tracks. “I feel crappy and everything hurts, and my tummy aches.”

“Well, I have a couple things,” Bucky began, shuffling over to grab the Target bag. “This lil’ fella,” he pulled free a teddy, the material soft and fluffy and in your favourite colour. You stared in shock at the bear. “I knew he was perfect for you.” 

Bucky offered you the bear, and you held him to your chest, tears falling down your cheeks. “And I brought some pain relief–I didn’t know what you preferred so I just bought the lot, and some pads, tampons, that sorta thing–and a hot water bottle, and some soup,” he gestured to the paper bag. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, staring at him with wide eyes. Bucky smiled. 

“How about a warm bath, and then we have a movie marathon?” You nodded and Bucky helped you to the shower.

Bucky had kept himself occupied by changing your sheets, being sure to pile the blankets back on, and you couldn’t ignore how your heart fluttered at the sight of him concentrating on making your safe space comfortable. When he looked up to find you in the doorway, he smiled. 

And dammit all, you fell in love. 

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[charmercharm3r]

Masterlist

thinking about phases minho and pegging…

he’s such a slut for that stupid piece of plastic, covered in sweat and drool and tears to the point you can’t tell who’s fluids are who’s. except for his cum, of course, it’s covering his entire lower stomach from when the night had begun and you had him on his back.

he was rubbing himself raw at this point, doing all the work and you just got to lay there and admire the pretty view of your boyfriend unable to think about anything but the bright purple strap on pressing against his prostate. with your hands on his hips, guiding him back and forth, minho vigorously jerked his leaking cock as he leaned back a little to find the right spot to rock the dildo into. all the while he couldn’t stop moaning, crying, begging for just one more.

but minho was also so far past broken that he couldn’t help himself anymore, though, he still tried. “you’re trying so hard, aren’t you baby? are you getting tired? i thought you said you wanted to do it yourself—“

“i do!” he interrupted you, frustrated that he was doing everything right but so wrong at the same time. the quick raise of your eyebrow kicked him back down into place, “i— i wanna. so close— just a little bit—“

his hips stilled at an angle that looked rather uncomfortable, back bent and his knees on either side of you locking your midsection between them. minho tightened his grip around his cock and sped up his motions for lewd and obscene squelching to fill the room along side his whimpers. you knocked your hips up just the slighted bit and it toppled him into another dry orgasm. minho’s body went rigid and his broken cries were like music to your ears. you were surprised he even had any cum left, catching what dribbled down his softening dick with your finger and bringing it to your lips as he shuddered under the touch.

“did so good, baby boy,” you cooed, reaching up to cup his cheek and let him fall into the crook of your neck. minho merely hummed as he regained his breath, which turned out to be rather timely as he began gently, as undetectable as possible, rutting back and forth on the dildo once again. “oh, you’re insatiable, hm?”

oops, he’s not that subtle.

his lips found the skin of your collar bone and latched on. the left over residue on his stomach pressed against your own made you feel sticky alongside his sweat. “don’t make a mess if you’re going to be lazy.”

the only response you got was another strangled groan against your chest, then his hips switching into an up and down slam into your pelvis. the pounding motion made the bed rock harder, he so easily could’ve bruised either of you with the pace he set for himself.

“that’s better, there you go, baby. keep working for it. it’ll feel so good because you earned it. work for one more and i’ll give you as many more as your cock hungry hole can handle.”

“wan’ it— i wan’ it,” minho was barely coherent, his brain so empty, so light.

“i know you do, almost there. can you feel it? can you feel me so deep in you? how are you still so tight, baby? my boy, so warm and sweet, so cute when all you can think about is my cock.”

“wan’ it, wan’ it, wan’ it— so close— hngh— fuck,” his arms slithered around your torso to keep you as close to him as possible, not even air could fit between your bodies.

minho reverted back into a quick grinding motion that slammed the headboard against the pillow you put between it and the wall— precautionary because you both knew how tonight was going to go.

“slutty baby, you just can’t stop. it feels too good, right? c’mon then, make those pretty noises you know i love so much.”

so susceptible to the siren lure of your voice, entranced by the warmth of your skin on his and your natural musk he was drowning in, the high made him fall limp this time and slump against you as his eyes rolled back, body twitched, and whimpered uncontrollably. you held him snug in your arms until it passed, then worried when his breathing fell short.

fingers carding through his hair, not higher than a whisper, “baby boy, come back to me.” a light peck of his lips against your chest to show he was conscious. “now you get what you’ve earned.”

—

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts

[shadowsandshapes]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 (𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞) | afab!Reader/Gojo Satoru

��� summary: You convince Gojo to go with you to the aquarium, not realizing that the man has a huge crush on you. He knows he shouldn't indulge in the urge to be close to you, but you're just too damn cute to say 'no' to. ☆ contains: Shamelessly Self-Indulgent Fluff, Pining, First Kiss, Everyone Gets Roasted A Little (Affectionate), Hand-Holding (Scandalous) ☆ tag: @dabislittlebeaniebaby ☆ wc: [3.5K]

An array of colorful little fish swam by, dancing in front of your eyes before swiftly retreating into the artificial coral reef in the back of the tank. They nestled themselves against the surfaces, flitting through the crevices and cracks in a beautiful display of nature. Your face was practically glowing as you leaned in closer to the tank in front of you to watch them float by. It was cute, Gojo realized, how such a simple thing could bring so much light to your eyes. Even in this dimly lit hallway of the aquarium, you shined like a beacon, drawing his gaze away from the beautiful sea life that surrounded him from all sides.

It was probably a good thing that his sunglasses obscured his eyes or you would have caught him staring at you more than once today. You were very distracting.

How you managed to convince Gojo to join you for a trip to the aquarium, he didn’t know. You were just too damn hard to say ‘no’ to. Everyone knew he was kind of a big deal. You were going, with or without him, but you’d gone out of your way to pester him into tagging along. A big important guy like him had better things to do than to waste an afternoon looking at fish and whatever other sea mammals this place had in their collection. But when you’d looked at him with those big sparkly eyes asking him to take you out, his reluctance crumbled like a house of cards. He could still hear your voice, sweetly begging him to come with you. 

“You’re busy?” you scoffed, eyes narrowing at the man as he lounged on the couch in the break room. “With what? Bullying the higher-ups into submission? Please, Gojo. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

That little pout on your lips broke Gojo. It was too damn cute to resist. “Alright, alright!” He waved a dismissive hand and made a big hoopla about getting up, groaning in mock-annoyance as you clapped your little hands together at your victory. “I’ll take you to see the pretty fishies, okay?”

And that’s how he wound up here: watching you — watching the fish swim by.

Every once in a while, Gojo would catch you bouncing on your heels when a particular fish swam up to the front of the tank to greet you. You would lean forward and whisper hello as if it would somehow be able to hear you through the thick glass. It was a sickeningly sweet sight that made his heart clench. 

Did you even know how much he adored you? 

Gojo had so desperately tried not to get attached to you. Staying away from you was harder than he liked to admit. At first, he just enjoyed your company. You were sweet, funny and strong. It wasn’t until you began biting back to his teasing that Gojo fell hard. That obnoxious way you rolled your eyes at his jokes and the way you would hit him with the finger-guns whenever you entered the room. You were so effortlessly charming and dorky, he couldn’t stand it. This silly infatuation with you had gotten out of hand long ago, Gojo realized that now. Love was dangerous and unkind to sorcerers in particular. But, fuck, did he love it when you smiled at him like that, moving your attention away from the tank for a brief moment to point at something that had caught your eye.

“Gojo, look! It’s Nanami,” you said, a little grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

Gojo pushed himself off the wall and shuffled closer, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets for the single reason that he was fighting the urge to hold your hand. He’d had been thinking about it all day. Your delicate little fingers lacing with his. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have the warmth of your touch against his palm. 

Pathetic behavior on his part, really. 

The only way Gojo was going to make it through this little outing with his dignity intact was if he just kept his hands to himself. None of that touchy stuff. Wouldn’t want you catching on to the little crush he was nursing, would he? Gojo stopped next to you and peered over the edge of his darkened glasses into the tank.

A funny-looking thing with a clueless expression sat upon the reef with its jaw lazily moving up and down. It was a moray eel, poking its head out from a little hole in the rock to stare at the passing visitors. A set of gnarly little teeth gleamed in its maw but its most striking feature by far were the colors of its skin. It was reminiscent of a certain Nanami Kento’s fashionably questionable tie choices. Definitely. Yellow with brown speckles. A genuine, snorting laugh escaped him as one of his hands emerged from his pockets to ruffle your hair affectionately. 

“You’re so mean, babycakes,” Gojo started, tacking on a sarcastic nickname at the end for good measure. It wasn’t flirting if he was being an ass about it, right? The moray eel stared at the glass and Gojo could feel his grin growing wider at the sight. Its emotionless, unmoving gaze was indeed very familiar to both of you. You were right, it did remind him of Nanami in that way. “He’s not that ugly.”

“The eel, or Nanami?” you asked, shoving your shoulder into Gojo’s side. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. Nanami could get it, don’t even try to deny it.”

A sharp stab of envy went through Gojo’s heart but his smirk never wavered. “Oh? Then why am I here and not him, huh?” The hand in your hair dropped down as he wrapped the arm around your neck and pulled you closer so he could whisper the following words into your ear. “Too shy to ask the guy out? It’s okay, you can tell me. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Your body jerked as it collided with Gojo’s chest. His beautiful blue eyes stared down at you from beyond the dark lenses of his glasses, his gaze unreadable as you slapped his firm pecs a few times. “Ha-ha, very funny, Gojo. I don’t have a thing for Nanami, okay? He’s just hot.”

Not only did you let him hold you without protest, but you also inadvertently admitted you preferred his company over Nanami’s. And you thought the guy was attractive. Which meant there was a good chance you thought Gojo was hot too. Gojo shouldn’t be relieved by this little piece of information – but he was. 

“Aw, poor baby. You don’t have to deny it,” the man joked, trying to bait a confession from you in the most subtle way he was capable of. “He’s a catch I’m sure.” You saw one of Gojo’s eyebrows quirk up at his own pun as he pointed at the tank. Following the direction of his finger, you noticed the moray eel in the tank in front of you again. The unfortunate creature hastily retreated into its burrow as if it could somehow sense Gojo was making fun of it. He laughed watching it slink back into its lair.

“I don’t!” you fumed, stomping your foot just once on the floor. Gojo’s smirk only grew. You were extra adorable when he managed to get under your skin like this. “Besides, you’re more fun to hang out with anyway…”

There it was. Hearing you say that filled Gojo’s heart with pride and, dare he admit it, caused a little flutter too. Maybe you had asked him out because you liked him after all. And was that a blush on your cheeks? It was too dark to tell for certain you sure did feel warm in his arms.

“I know, babycakes, I know. No one compares to me, after all.”

A small victory — but a win is a win.

The way your pretty eyes looked at him right now was simply breathtaking. That small hint of surprise flickering in your gaze as you adjusted to feeling his arm around your neck, your hand resting against his chest. You’d never been this close to Gojo before. He liked the feeling of it. There was something so beautiful about your face in this light. The blue hues of the aquarium lighting cast rounded shadows on your cheeks, accentuating the highs of your face with a healthy glow. The more he looks, the more he sees and he finds himself wanting to look deeper. Into your very soul. Gojo didn’t even realize you had been holding his gaze for the longest time until you looked away first, eyes shyly traveling back to the fish in the tank. His eyes roamed over your face once more, relishing in the sight of your reddened cheeks before landing back on the fish in front of you.

Gojo had had his fun. He would back off for now. Couldn’t fluster you too much, right?

“Look at that,” Gojo said, pointing at a bunch of sea urchins heaped together against the glass. “A cluster of Megumis.”

You laughed – a sound so lively and bubbly to Gojo’s ears it would put the most beautiful symphony to shame. “You’re right, you’re right!” you said, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to calm your giggles. “They do look like him, holy shit…”

And just like that the tension he had caused was broken.

“What would Yuji be?” 

You didn’t even have to think about that one. “Clownfish. Hands down.” His hair was even two colors and the kid seemed impervious to damage.

Gojo chuckled. “Hey, you’re pretty good at this. Nobara?”

“Venomous sea snake.” Another easy one. You paused for a second before turning to him with a worried little frown. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“My lips are sealed!” he swore, placing a solemn hand on his chest. Somehow, you doubted the validity of that claim. Perhaps your distrust had something to do with the shit-eating grin on the man’s lips. Gojo simply laughed in the face of your raised eyebrows. “I’m serious, I won’t tell her. So, what’s yours?”

“Mine?” you wondered out loud. Gojo watched you place a pensive hand under your chin as you ran through your mental library on all things aquatic life. Picking one for yourself was kind of difficult, there were a lot of different fish in the sea after all. It took you a few seconds but after a moment of thoughtful silence, your eyes lit up and a gasp escaped your lips. You had it! “Come with me!”

You grabbed Gojo’s hand without a second thought, dragging the man past several exhibits toward your favorite tank. Just like that. Like it was nothing to you. Gojo stared down at your hand in his as he trailed after you. Could you feel the fact that he’d disabled his Infinity, he wondered. It was like a precious little secret that he was keeping from you. Even in the most casual settings, the man always used his technique to protect himself. It came naturally to him — a bit too naturally in fact. Almost like a mindless compulsion to keep a barrier between himself and others at all times. That infinite, unfathomable space was the one thing that kept him safe. Both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t help it.

And yet Gojo made an exception for you. Just like how you broke through the metaphysical barriers the sorcerer had constructed, you bypassed his Limitless as well. Albeit with his consent. It was a shamelessly self-indulgent move that he would never dream of telling you about. Your hand was every bit as soft and pleasant to hold as he imagined it would be.

Wait a minute — he wasn’t supposed to be touching you at all. Shit. 

Well, it was too late to back out now. Besides, it felt nice to hold you. Even if it was just a temporary indulgence — for a little while, he could pretend you were his. Navigating the rest of the aquarium, you pulled Gojo towards a tank in the middle of the room. His eyes immediately honed in on the little creatures floating about in the salty water. It was a swarm of cute little jellyfish, elegantly floating in front of the two of you. The tank’s lighting changed colors, shifting across a beautiful range of neons. As the jellyfish continued their leisurely dance, their near-transparent bodies took on the hues of the lights, making for a beautiful display of moving colors.

You could barely contain your excitement and Gojo felt it too: you squeezed the palm of his hand at the sight of them. "They're like me, no brains but really cute."

He barked out a short laugh and shook his head, giving you an amused smile. “Now, now, give yourself some credit. That’s not the only thing you have in common. They might be dumb as bricks, but they’ve got a sting to them too. Like you.”

The fact that Gojo took your joke and ran with it made you crack a wide grin. He just added to the humor of it instead of loading you with false praise and you appreciated that. You cackled in response, muffling the noise with your free hand while the other was still firmly clasped in Gojo’s palm. This entire moment was delightful. Just the two of you in front of the jellyfish tank, having a laugh. "That's so rude," you said, grinning like an idiot. "I love it. C'mon, we've seen my assigned ocean creature. Let's go see yours, yeah?"

“You got one for me too? It better be something awesome. If it’s one of those goofy-looking crabs I’m never speaking to you again.” Gojo was a little skeptical after you low-key roasted all of his students and Nanami – he didn’t expect any different for himself.

“I promise you — you’re gonna love it.”

It took you a while to locate the right place – but once you found it, Gojo knew exactly where you were taking him. This tank was the largest one you’d seen on your trip by far, spanning the entire width and height of the room. Several species of fish lived in harmony within those waters but, most notably, it contained a number of bull sharks. You yanked Gojo along with you, practically running up to the glass to point at the sharp-toothed little brutes.

Of course, you had chosen a dangerous predator as his ocean creature. He wasn’t surprised by your choice in the slightest.

"Sharks are so fun," you said, giving Gojo’s hand another squeeze. "They look mean and scary but they're really big softies who like nose-rubs." As you spoke you watched the sharks swim around, eyes gleaming with something Gojo could only identify as adoration. "They're kinda like you in that sense. Big reputation, but not really all that bad once you get to know them."

That was — not what he had expected you to say. 

People were afraid of sharks. They were hunters and thirsted for blood. There were countless movies going over the inherent fear these creatures inspired in the hearts of normal men. But that’s not why you chose them. You picked a shark because you liked them. The look in your eyes was filled to the brim with delight as you watched them swim by the glass. Not a single shred of fear in sight. That did something to Gojo. His heart warmed at the sight of you. The realization that you were trying so hard to understand and see him for more than just ‘the strongest’ was refreshing.

“They like nose-rubs?” Gojo didn’t quite think that was true – but then again, he didn’t know enough about sharks to dispute your claims.

“Yeah, like boop!” At that last word, you touched the tip of your finger to his nose and bounced it off. It hit Gojo so unexpectedly that he cracked a huge smile, both flabbergasted and in awe at the adorable little gesture. 

You shouldn’t have done that. Gojo was already in love with you but that just sealed the deal. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He was silenced — lost for words as you gave him a bright smile.

This was happiness. 

Gojo felt truly at peace by your side right now — a rarity for him these days. All he could hope was that you felt the same and managed to enjoy this moment of normalcy in the midst of your crazy lives. No curses or curse users to ruin it. Just you, him, and a bunch of fish. 

You quietly leaned your head against Gojo's shoulder as you stood side by side, enjoying the view of the shark tank.

The sorcerer glanced at the sharks in the tank, feeling content as one of them swam up to the glass, almost like it was seeking your company. When you gave his hand another squeeze, Gojo smiled and returned the gesture. His heart pumped wildly in his chest upon experiencing your touch again. You had no idea how much he wanted to kiss you right now. It would be the perfect time for it too — but Gojo was too afraid. There would be no going back if he went through with this selfish urge to show you just how much you meant to him. He was being a coward, hardly worthy of being compared to fearsome sharks who liked nose-rubs. 

You’d be disappointed if you knew how much he was pussyfooting around his own feelings right now.

"Can I kiss you?" Gojo asked quietly, the words just spilling out directly from the heart. It was an almost mindless request that he couldn’t stop himself from voicing in the silence of the moment. The second the words left his lips, Gojo’s heart leaped into his throat as you blinked back at him.

Oh no — Gojo froze — he’d fucked up, hadn’t he?

The question nearly threw you off balance. If you hadn't been holding Gojo’s hand to ground yourself, you might have floated off into space then and there. Suddenly, your fingers felt very warm against his. A little sweaty too. Uncertainty clung to the air between the two of you as you recovered from the shock to your system that his words had left you with. The silence was deafening. Your lips parted slightly as you took in a shallow breath to speak but you stopped yourself, unable to answer. Gojo couldn’t stand it.

But then you nodded. And that was all he needed to give in.

Gojo gently pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. It felt right. Whatever inhibitions he had vanished the moment his eyes found yours. He let out an amused little chuckle at the expression on your face. You looked so beautiful and dumbstruck by his forwardness. That alone made this moment worth it.

Your eyes fluttered shut as Gojo's lips connected. There was something so beautiful about this kiss. Standing in each other's arms in the company of sharks. You felt a rush going directly to your head. It was almost as if you were on the ocean floor itself right now, surrounded by such beauty and the soaring of your heart felt like waves crashing against the shore. Gojo was gentle at first but all that pent-up longing began to spill out rather quickly once he’d taken the breaks off. One of his hands grasped the back of your neck, locking your lips against his as he deepened the kiss. There was a certain uncanny desperation to his movements — like he was worried you might vanish if he didn’t kiss you hard enough. He was drowning in your presence and couldn’t be happier about his inability to breathe. Your lips were every bit as sweet as he’d dreamed they would be. Nothing could compare to your taste. Gojo hummed against your mouth, delighted and relieved now that he’d finally taken the plunge into the deep. Every second he’d spent fighting his feelings had been such a waste. But that was behind him now. 

When he finally parted from your lips, your face felt like it was burning. It was probably a good thing the shark exhibit was so dark or Gojo would absolutely make fun of your flushed expression. 

He broke the silence first. “That was more than a little jelly sting, wasn’t it?”

“Do you need me to pee on it?” you quipped, coaxing a little chortle from the man’s throat.

Gojo shook his head. Way to ruin the moment — but he wouldn’t have it any other way though. “You’re disgusting. Cute and irresistible. But absolutely disgusting.”

“I know, it’s part of my charm.”

“It is.” Gojo placed another quick peck against your lips. It was so quick and sweet that you barely registered it – but caused a little flutter in your stomach.

“What happens now?”

Gojo raised a brow at your question. He knew you meant ‘what now between us’ but he simply couldn’t resist messing with you a little more. “Now,” the man started, placing his hands on your hips and giving them a little squeeze. You felt so soft and warm, it was heavenly. His breath tickled your neck as Gojo leaned in to whisper seductively into your ear. “Now…I’m gonna break into the turtle enclosure.”

“Gojo—don’t.”

If you liked this, please leave a little reply or reblog | [Masterlist]

[itsjaywalkers]

a lil smth under the cut for u guys (part 3) <3

(light nsfw)

part 1 part 2

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s decent enough, so it’ll have to do,” James says, and Regulus it’s too busy trying to keep his breathing under control to be bothered by the other man’s words. “Relax your shoulders a little, love.” 

“Don’t,” Regulus hisses, even though he isn’t sure himself if that response is because of the nickname, or James’ touch, or James’ closeness, or something else entirely. 

“Don’t what?” James asks, sneaking a hand up and massaging one of his shoulders until both of them sag. 

“You know what.” 

“I don’t even think you know.” 

Regulus huffs loudly, and hates that he can’t argue back. 

“Show me how you do a jab,” James requests, his hands returning to Regulus’ waist after one last press on his shoulder. 

Regulus clears his throat slightly, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden while he raises his right arm and gets ready to do what James asked. He only hesitates for a couple of seconds before doing the punch, not as confident as he’d usually be after having James criticise him so much. 

He knows he’s no expert. He isn’t even that athletic to begin with. But he still has a boxer brother, which means he’s definitely not as clueless as James is making him out to be. 

Maybe if it were someone else, Regulus would find it in himself to fight back, defend his knowledge and Sirius’ teachings. But, as it turns out, having a professional boxer watching you try to punch is an incredibly humbling experience. Especially one as mind-blowingly good as James. 

Not like Regulus would ever tell him that.

James hums. “Not bad,” he says, and really, it shouldn’t satisfy Regulus as much as it does. “It’s a bit too slow, though.” 

Regulus tilts his head back, in an attempt to look at the other man, but he barely lasts a second after realising how fucking close both of his faces are. 

His heart beats wildly in his chest. He can only hope James doesn’t notice. 

“How so?” Regulus wonders, so relieved to hear his voice sounds completely normal. 

“Jabs focus on speed over strength,” James explains calmly. “It’s a matter of overwhelming your opponent, rather than properly hurting. The punch has to be quick, and once the arm returns, it’s gotta go up, protect your face. Like this.”

He grabs one of Regulus’ arms gently, moving it forward and then back very slowly, to demonstrate how to do it, and then fast, jostling Regulus’ whole body with it. 

“See?” James murmurs, and he could swear that his tone has gone lower. “You don’t have to worry about being strong enough. It’s all about speed.”

“Okay,” Regulus replies with a tiny nod, doing his best to concentrate on what James is seeing, and not on all of the points where they’re touching. Or on how close James is. Or how nice he smells, despite all the sweat—maybe even because of it. “I think I get it.” 

“Yeah? Wanna try again on your own?”

Part of Regulus wants to snark back, argue that it’s only a stupid jab and James is just being picky because he’s a professional boxer and it’s not like there’s an actual science to throwing a punch. But having James holding onto his waist must be clouding his mind, because he just gives another nod, and does his best to replicate James’ movement and speed. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” James breathes out, and Regulus can almost hear his smile. “Very good, love. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, I’m a natural now?” Regulus huffs out, but it comes out more teasing than irritated. 

“Or maybe you just have a great teacher,” James adds playfully, accompanied by a squeeze on his hips. 

“You’re right, Sirius is pretty great,” Regulus responds with a shrug, relishing in the way James clicks his tongue. 

“But I’m better.”

“In your dreams, Potter.”

“Wait, what happened to ‘James’?”

Regulus feels heat rushing to his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

James chuckles way too close to Regulus’ ear, and his breath hits the side of his neck, goosebumps breaking all over his skin. Regulus has to swallow a very embarrassing and very needy sound before it makes it past his lips.

“C’mon, love, we were getting along so nicely. Don’t try to ruin it now.”

“You’ve finally lost it,” Regulus states, trying to laugh the whole thing off. It probably doesn’t work, though, considering how unstable he sounds. “There’s not a single universe in which you and I get along, Potter.”

“Liar,” James whispers. “I’m growing on you.”

“Whatever gave me away?” Regulus grumbles, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“The fact that you’re letting me touch you,” James murmurs, voice smooth and silky, feeling like a caress. “How you keep leaning against my contact, and catching yourself at the last second.”

Regulus’ breath hitches. “That’s—” 

“The way you’re not even arguing with me anymore. Not really,” James continues, unrelenting, his lips grazing Regulus’ earlobe and making his eyes flutter shut. “If anything, I’d even dare to say you’re flirting.”

“You’re delusional,” Regulus spits, too breathless to sound as furious as he’d like to. “The fucking audacity—”

“And,” James cuts him off, tone so frustratingly smug, “I bet you’re aching between those pretty legs of yours.” 

Regulus lets out an embarrassed noise, barely suppressing the urge to press his thighs together. 

“No,” he croaks out, shaking his head a little and face burning. 

“No?” James mocks him, pressing his smirk behind Regulus’ ear. “Shall we check?” 

One of James’ hands moves slowly, sliding from its place on Regulus’ waist to rest under his navel, fingers playfully caressing his waistband. 

Regulus hates how that mere touch is enough to turn his mind into static. To make his heart stutter in his chest, and the mess in his underwear almost unbearable.

“Potter—”

“No.”

Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up, and before he has the chance to ask, he feels James’ teeth at the side of his neck, nipping teasingly and dragging a fucking whimper out of him.

“What—?!” he begins, completely red in the face and attempting to move away from the other man for the first time since he allowed his touch.

James holds him tighter, bites down harder. “Behave, Regulus, or I’ll fucking make you.” 

Regulus doesn’t listen, despite how the tone of James’ voice makes him tremble like a leaf. He keeps resisting, an outraged sound leaving his mouth while his body betrays him and becomes even wetter. 

“Oh, you don’t get to play the clueless card on me,” James murmurs, his teeth giving way to a devilish tongue that turns Regulus soft and pliant, his attempts at freeing himself growing sloppy, lazy. “I always do my best to be patient, to respect your boundaries and control myself, but you’ve been a damn tease all afternoon, and I’m fucking done.” 

“What the fuck are you even—” 

“Enough,” James growls back, and it’s so commanding Regulus’ mouth snaps shut with a clack. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then James is laughing under his breath. “Good boy.”

It’s filled with mockery, bordering on mean, and yet, it still makes Regulus moan like a fucking bitch in heat, eyes rolling to the back of his skull and body going completely boneless. 

“Fuck,” James whispers, a mix between awed and devastated. “I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known. Is that what does it for you, baby? You wanna be my good boy?”

Baby. 

Baby. 

Baby. 

Regulus moans again, even though it’s weaker this time, but he still shakes his head, or tries to at least, holding onto the last traces of sanity and refusing to let James win whatever twisted game they’re playing. 

“C’mon, you were doing so well,” James mumbles, tongue licking up the side of his neck. “And you can’t fool me anymore. Not like you ever did, but still. I know you wanna be good for me, baby. Know you wanna please me, let me use you in whatever way I see fit.”

He tries to shake his head once more, but somehow, his brain gets the order wrong and Regulus ends up nodding instead. 

“That’s right,” James coos, dropping a kiss on his skin, long and lingering. “Now, say my name, Regulus.” 

“James,” he gasps almost against his will, mouth moving before his mind can catch up. 

The other man groans and then attaches his lips to his throat immediately after, tongue pressing down as he sucks, the sting feeling absolutely heavenly. 

Regulus tilts his head to the side to give James more space, eyes hooded and limbs heavy, back coming to rest against James’ chest. 

“James,” he says again, without being prompted this time and the word almost sounding like a whine. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” James hisses against his neck, peppering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue and teeth mapping out Regulus’ skin. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been dying to do this.”

Regulus whimpers, hands moving on their own volition and reaching behind him until they bury themselves into James’ messy locks. He pulls, a bit harsher than intended, but before Regulus can manage to apologise, James is moaning loudly, the vibrations on his skin making him shiver. 

He pulls again, and James bites down on his throat hard enough to leave a mark. Regulus doesn’t have it in himself to reprimand him, or to tell him to stop. His brain is unable to focus on anything that isn’t James’ mouth working down his neck. 

“We could’ve been doing this ages ago if you weren’t so fucking stubborn,” James sighs, lips caressing his exposed shoulder and dragging another obscene noise out of Regulus. “I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me.”

“James—” Regulus pants, apparently unable to speak anything else apart from the other man’s name. 

It’s kind of embarrassing, how pliant a couple of kisses and a few dirty comments can make him. Regulus isn’t usually this easy, especially not in bed; he likes having a modicum of control, always ready to remind his partner that he doesn’t enjoy being bossed around. But, and as much as he hates to admit it, James knows what he’s doing. 

Although, maybe it’s not even a matter of skills. Maybe it’s simply that it’s James, and despite how much he’s tried to deny it, he’s been desperate for him almost since the moment he laid eyes on him. 

“God, baby, you taste divine,” James grunts, sucking on his collarbone almost at the same time that his fingers dip into Regulus’ waistband. They don’t get very far, and it’s more of a playful contact than anything else, but his breath still hitches. “Can’t wait to put my mouth between your legs.”

Regulus makes a keening sound, hips twitching, and James chuckles cruelly against his shoulder.

“You’d let me, right, baby?” James goes on, the hand that had slipped inside the basketball shorts changing its course and travelling up up up, until they’re caressing Regulus’ chest, following the shape of his scars. “There’s no point in pretending you’re not fucking gagging for it at this point. Just look at you. Look at you. I bet you could come from this. From me marking you up while I whisper in your ear.”

“N-no,” Regulus huffs, blinking furiously and doing his best to break out of his daze. “You’re too—too full of yourself. This isn’t enough, it could never be, and I—”

“Not enough?” James questions, stopping his ministrations. Regulus bites his tongue to stop the protest at the tip of his tongue. “Is this your way of asking for more, baby? Because you’re gonna have to do better than that. I don’t listen to brats.” 

Regulus wishes he could scoff, elbow James in the stomach so his touches stop clouding his mind and tell him to fuck off. Maybe even show him how well he can throw a stupid punch. 

But his body isn’t listening to his mind. It doesn’t care about what Regulus truly wants. Or what he’s been telling himself he wants, at least.

That’s why when he parts his lips, none of the curses he’s been preparing come out. Instead, there’s only need and lust. “Please,” he whimpers, closing his eyes tight momentarily. “Please, James, I—I just—”

James shushes him gently while circling a nipple, Regulus’ toes curling inside his toes and cunt clenching around nothing. “Oh, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you so well. Give you exactly what you need.”

“Yeah,” Regulus exhales, hands spasming around James’ curls. “Please.” 

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby? Let me finger you nice and open, so you can get ready for my cock?” 

Regulus moans and nods and thrashes around, one of his hands slipping from James’ hair just so he can grab one of James' by its wrist, pushing his arm downwards and hoping to get some relief where he truly needs it. 

James stops right before he reaches his waistband, a cocky grin curving against Regulus’ skin. 

“Well, well,” James breathes. “Aren’t you a needy little thing.” 

“C’mon,” Regulus complains, uncaring of how childish he sounds. He feels too fucking drunk on everything James to be able to think about anything else apart from getting off.

James laughs again, because he’s mean like that, and Regulus can already feel some tears prickling at his eyes out of frustration.

“You have to tell me what you want, Regulus,” James says, and his voice is so damn casual it actually hurts. “This won’t work otherwise.” 

There’s no this, Regulus wants to snap back, but then James is pressing nearer, until Regulus can feel the outline of his hard cock against his ass. It makes him gasp and push back against it, really pleased by the little hiss James lets out at the pressure.

“See what you do to me, baby?” James whispers, dragging his lips over his shoulders, the side of his throat, behind his ear. “We barely did anything, and yet I’m so fucking hard it’s actually painful. You’ve no idea of how many times I’ve jerked myself off to the thought of you. Wishing it was your hand instead. Your mouth. The inside of your cunt.” 

Regulus’ knees shake, a mewl escaping his parted lips, and James’ grip on him turns even stronger. 

“I bet you’ll feel all tight and warm around me,” James goes on, tone husky, words dripping with so much desire it makes Regulus light-headed. “Make the sweetest sounds, too. I used to think you were too uptight and that I needed to fuck the stubborness out of you, but it turns out that you’re real fucking dirty, baby. Grinding back against my cock and opening your legs the moment I praised you a little. Oh, if they could see you now, baby. Big bad scary Regulus Black. Reduced to a pathetic, whimpering mess.”

“Shut up,” Regulus grits out, but he doesn’t stop rubbing his ass on James’ cock, or pulling at James’ wrist insistently, in an attempt to get his hand inside his pants. “You’re all bark and no bite. Spent all these months telling me everything you wanted to do to me, and now that I finally give you a chance, you’re only teasing and babbling in my ear.” 

“Good try, baby, but you should know by now that that attitude of yours only turns me on.” 

“Yeah? Then how come you’re not fucking me yet, huh?” 

James’ other hand, the one that hasn’t stopped gripping Regulus’ waist for a single second, lets go and climbs up, taking a hold of Regulus’ chin. James uses it to tilt his head back, forcing their gazes to meet, and Regulus despises how he feels himself get slicker at the flash of danger on James’ gaze, the sharpness of his smirk. 

“God, the mouth you have on you, baby.” James cocks his head to the side, considering, and he grips his chin even tighter. “So fucking filthy. And so pretty when you beg.” 

“I don’t beg,” Regulus murmurs back, aware that it’s a lie. He still narrows his eyes when James barks out a laugh. 

“Yes, you do. You already have. And you will do so again, if you want to come.” 

“I don’t need you for that. I can just—just walk out of here, leave you hanging and get off all by myself—”

“No, you can’t. I’m sure you’ve also jerked off while thinking of me, right, baby? All that tension, all that repression, I know it took its toll. Did you finger yourself slow and deep as soon as you got home after our interviews? Came with my name in your mouth?”

Regulus only glares at him, not even trying to defend himself. What’s the point, when James can see right through him? Lying won’t do him any favours. 

“You did,” James states, ridiculously pleased with himself. “You’re not gonna go and waste this chance over your wounded pride, baby. Argue all you want, but we both know you’re not going anywhere. Not when you’re practically drooling at the thought of taking my cock.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it as much, if not more, than I do,” Regulus grumbles. 

James shrugs, leaning forward and forcing Regulus to do the same. Until their noses are grazing each other, breaths intermingling. 

“Never said otherwise,” he retorts with ease. 

“Then what the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nothing, really. Just waiting for you to tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, baby, I swear. You just gotta ask.” 

Regulus purses his lips, but James does sound sincere, and at this point, it’s not like he has anything else to lose. It’s too late to try and save face, and his dignity, or whatever was left of it, took its leave the moment he allowed James to get this close. 

Besides, he wants this. He wants James. Has done so for a while, probably since the very beginning, and not even he has this much self-restraint.

“Fuck me,” Regulus says in a soft exhale, watching the way James’ pupils eat at his irises. “Please, James, fuck me. I need you inside me, it’s—fucking unbearable, really, and I’m gonna lose it if you don’t—”

“Yes,” James gasps out, nodding fast, moves turning erratic as he finally slips his hand under the shorts, under Regulus’ briefs. “Yes. Of course, baby, anything you want, I’m—shit, you’re so—let me just—”

His fingers rub at his clit playfully, pulling a moan out of Regulus, before they continue their path down, until they’re running through slick curls, teasing at his entrance and marvelling at the wetness they find there. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking dripping,” James whispers in wonder. Regulus can only whimper, pushing against his eager hand. “And it’s for me. All for me. Fucking hell, just—come here—”

It’s when James tilts his head up, clearly wanting to kiss him, that Regulus finally manages to go back to himself. That Regulus remembers where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s doing it with. 

Reality hits him with such harshness that the ground seems to tilt under his feet, leaving him breathless, and dizzy, and having to swallow down a wave of nausea. 

What the actual fuck is wrong with him? 

“Wait,” he squeals, James’ mouth already touching his. “Wait.” 

To the other man’s credit, he does stop immediately at Regulus’ words, pulling back and fingers freezing where they were exploring at his cunt’s entrance. 

Regulus takes a gulp of air, heart rumbling loudly inside his head, his brain screaming at him to get a fucking grip. 

“Reg?” James calls him, a worried frown twisting his features while his eyes roam all over his face. “Baby, you okay?”

“Don’t—” Regulus wheezes out, clawing at James’ arm until he gets the hint and takes it out of his pants. He can’t think with those thick, calloused fingers resting on his cunt. “We can’t do this. It’s—no, James, just—no.”

Something pained flashes in James’ gaze, before it disappears, being substituted by a harshness Regulus has to look away from. “Regulus—”

“No,” he repeats, a lot firmer this time. “I’m not—I can’t, James. I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t.”

Regulus doesn’t stick around to hear James’ response, or watch his reaction. He moves away from him, legs shaky but still managing to support his weight, and he exits the ring without daring to glance back.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Young and Beautiful — Hanma Shuji

Content: Imagines

Warnings: vaguely sexual tension, nothing nsfw though

Summary: you decide to take boudoir pictures, and pleasantly surprised by your (very) hot photographer.

Vixen’s two cents: hello! This started out as an imagine but i realized i dont really like writing imagines (it feels so unstructured), so have this little scenario instead. Also, whilst rereading this i realize that Shui seems a little creepy and i swear i dint want him to come off like that?! It was a hot idea in my head, idk how well that that translated, lmk about it! Remember my REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Also im still on the hunt for moots for proofreading and triangulation in case anyone is interested please contact me!!

When your auntie told you to go and take boudoir pictures, you thought she was talking crazy and waved her off with a polite smile, but she wouldn’t let up. “You’re as young and beautiful as you’ll ever be! Take them for yourself when you’re old like me! It might seem awkward but it’ll be worth it!”

If you would tell yourself from a week ago that you were had booked an appointment to the nearest place, you would have fainted. And if you would have told yourself from 4 hours ago, when you booked that appointment that you would eventually have to step INTO the store too, you would have freaked out. Screw that, you were freaking out now.

You had considered turning around and running about four or five times, but that little voice in the back of your head going pussy wouldnt leave you alone. In a burst of confidence you entered the shop and were met with a surprisingly comfortable atmosphere, and a cozy interior.

You scan the shop for a few seconds, deeming it good enough not to run out of right away, before a tall, slim figure emerged from one of the Backrooms. He wore a lazy smile when he came to you, clicking away at the computer on the desk before asking “Are you my boudoir at 4?” In a smooth, low voice.

You nod shyly in response, fidgeting with your hands a little. He chuckled in response “Don’t worry love, I won’t do anything- this is my job after all.”

He led you to a studio type room and handed you a robe. “Over there.” He said, and a long index of his rose to gesture to a little changing cabin in the corner of the room. “Ill go get everything set up for us.” And with that, he left you to freak out in the changing rooms because fuck he’s hot!

When you emerge again he’s already handling some sort of lenses to the end of the cameras, lights and props set up and ready to go. When he looks to you, you grow shy again and tug the robe a little tighter around your body. He sees this and nods reassuringly “It’s normal to be nervous, sweetheart.” Which only makes you more nervous.

He notices, but chooses to ignore it as he guides you to one of the chairs that are set up. “Now dont worry too much about anything. Just do your thing, ill do all the magic.” You sit, admittedly a little more relaxed but still stiff and he huffs with a smile. “Relax girl! You dont want these looking like pass photos do you?” And that makes you giggle a litte, finally loosening up again.

“There we go. That’s better already. Want me to talk you through it, distract you a little? Do you think that would help?” Eyes are soft but his gaze burns straight through you. “I think that would help, yeah.” And that makes him smile a little.

“How old are you anyway? You look very young- I don’t normally get a lot of girls your age.” He lifts the camera and clicks something on a little machine that begins whirring lightly in the background, producing little qualms of smoke. “I uh, im twenty two. Don’t get me wrong I would have never done this on my own accord, but my auntie, she said that id regret it my whole life if i don’t do this and all such things.”

Whilst you had been explaining, your robe had started slipping off your shoulders. You had noticed but found it the most natural transition into the inevitable. Getting more comfortable, you decided to throw your legs over one of the seat’s armrests, leaning back a little, getting comfortable, as he had advised.

“Thank your auntie for me then.” He whispered underneath his breath, the shutter clicking softly.

[sergeantwoods]

imprinting my asexual struggles onto the one character that would most likely be ace ✨✨ (i wrote this in like 30 minutes and it’s currently 2 in the morning so ignore any grammar mistakes LMAO)

it didn’t always start off like this.

he wasn’t a dog in heat like friends or the kids in his school. it hadn’t come naturally, like everyone told him. hormones, girls, blah blah blah. it was all static in his head, now, knowing that it wasn’t true.

i mean, fair, hormones did happen. shot up like a tree during the 9th year, but besides that, none of the whole “you’ll feel the need to… get some stuff out of your system,” shit happened.

he thought that it was normal, at first, because the people he had talked to didn’t feel the overwhelming need to go “romantically attack” their significant other too. and then that changed.

a friend invited him to a party, and he met a bloke. thought he was nice at first. funny, not poking or prodding. until he started approaching simon more, hand being placed on his shoulder or his hip. that’s when the disgust started.

then the bloke had jumped, smashing their lips together in an uncomfortable manner that simon had jumped away from almost immediately, eyes blurring from tears. the flashing lights of the tv, people’s phones, the lights on the ceiling above them blending together.

hollowness, for some odd reason, was the first thing he had felt afterwards. the kid had asked him if he was alright, and that he was sorry. simon dismissed it. later he came to the conclusion that it just wasn’t the time for him yet.

another occurrence was when he went over to his friends for a hangout, and his friends all beckoned him over after he went to get snacks, snickering. tilting his head in confusion, he went to see what they were looking at on their phone.

porn, was what they were watching.

they all forced him to sit there, watch it with them. and as the good friend he was, he wouldn’t deny them that.

he sat there uncomfortably for thirty minutes as his friends giggled to each other, inappropriate jokes being shared. and simon just sat. shock wasn’t the word, more of a disconnected experience from his body. bile rested heavily on his tongue, eyes pricking uncomfortably against the dry air of the house.

when they had stopped, he had said that he had to go to the bathroom really quick. he heard as he exited the room his friends laughing and making a joke. 

“probably going to bathroom to jack off,” they had chortled.

he had, in fact, not gone to the bathroom to jack off. he cried, threw up several times, sat on the floor breathing heavily and irregularly for the next ten minutes until one of his friends knocked on the door to tell him to get out because they needed to shit.

then the stuff with the prostitute happened, and he came to a conclusion that he genuinely couldn’t do it anymore. he wanted free from his house.

he left his mum and tommy behind. he’d be back anyways.

though, in the back of his head, he wishes he wouldn’t. maybe the military would be the way to kill him off.

later in his career, after a hard mission, his captain had told him to blow off some steam by going out to a bar. go get laid. it’ll feel better afterwards.

thats what he said.

he decided to try. he’s more mature now, anyways, and he’s had the time to observe relationships and sex as a thing in general.

found a man, and did as his captain said. got laid.

abso-fucking-lutely disgusting. he didn’t cum. did everything half-heartedly, nausea brewing in the back of his head, vomit steadily piling in the back of his throat. tears in the corner of his eyes, yet not from pleasure. more from disgust, letting some random stranger he didn’t know see his most intimate parts.

disgusting.

he thought that maybe, men weren’t for him, then. maybe he was straight?

but that didn’t make sense. he felt no attraction to woman in the first place. nothing about them had him feeling something. where as for men, he could get hot under the collar thinking about some.

so he tried to have sex with a woman.

even worse than when he tried with a man.

there, he had come to the conclusion that he couldn’t. repulsion, disgust, and hollowness were the main feelings he had when doing such activities. why feeling hollow was such a reoccurring feeling, simon had no idea.

then the roba stuff happened, and he was sure that he was fucking weird. he was fucked up in every way possible. beyond repair. a shell of what the expectations of a human should be. a glass, a glass that’s too fragile for its own good.

sure, the feeling of hollowness returned ten fold after roba. though it made more sense, at this point. you’ve been betrayed, and your family has been murdered. whats left to feel, after that? anger? what’s worth being angry at, after walking into that? it was expected.

he couldn’t leave the military, though. why would he leave? the military was all he had. suicide was an option. nobody would care, anyways. he didn’t have anybody who would care.

a while later he had been recruited to task force 141, by captain john price. he agreed to join, though it was followed by hesitance.

there he had met kyle “gaz” garrick, the person who helped him learn what caring was. to make jokes. to have conversations. and, most importantly, awkwardness. there had been multiple occasions between the two that were filled with an awkward silence.

and there, he had met john “soap” mactavish. he learned how to love, for the first time in his life.

love with confidence, love with his heart. no words could be used to describe the man he had fallen for, nothing in his vocabulary could contain what this man really was. maybe a few, but they seem almost childlike.

perfect? god-like?

why this man was in the military, simon had no idea. what is a literal ray of sunshine doing here, in a place where the most fucked up people were found? like simon? did he also have some strange, ominous past?

it didn’t matter, really. simon was terrified of him, though.

it showed by the way he hid behind the skull mask.

soaps random touches — shoulder pats, knee bumps, random holding of his upper arm — were unrecognized but welcomed. it was strange, the way any type of touch was repulsive until soap. a balm on his screwed up mind.

and then, turns out soap likes him too. confusion and happiness. soap leans in for a kiss, and he panics. pushes the man away, memories of that night in high school flash through him, and he doesn’t — no, can’t feel that hollowness again. it’s disappeared since he joined the task force, he doesn’t want it to come back.

the look soap gave him made him breakdown. gates opened, and they can’t be closed.

and soap had held him as he told him, years of it all just… unraveling. free, is the distant feeling floating around him. and surprisingly, johnny says he understands. that it’s okay. then the motherfucker pulls out his phone, and shows him something.

asexuality.

he hadn’t been aware that it was a thing. he was surprised it was. there were people like him? sex repulsed — and touch, as well? it was funny, almost. he has thought he was all alone his entire life. turns out he wasn’t, and he was blind to see to that his people were along side him the entire time.

[shashapato]

Willtresor Analysis

The shippers will be fed with these posts I have queued up. 😔🫶✨

Warning: This post will discuss the toxic nature of the ship, mostly based on my own experiences with people like Monty. The purpose of this post is not to glorify unhealthy relationships but to *understand* the ship better.

Also I am NOT a mental health specialist, just someone very interested in psychology. Apologies if the terms are not accurate.

-Analysis of Montresor’s Behaviour-

• Montresor is a lovebomber, like many manipulators and ab*sive partners are. I suspect the reason Will is so heads-over-heels in love is because in the maze, Montresor had been the first person, probably in a long while, to ever treat Will like he is *special*. He uses the first time they meet to give Will the impression he is a ‘good guy’.

Proof:

*Once Lenore asks him to name one nice thing Monty’s done for him and he couldn’t think of anything, Will reminds himself of when they first met because that’s probably the time Monty was nicest to him. So, yeah, he’s in deep denial.*

*And note the fact that Monty is reaching out for Will’s hand. That’ll be relevant for our next point.*

• Monty seems to use the push-pull method. Similar to when he manipulated Ada, he takes advantage of when Will is at his lowest to become this ‘God’, this ‘saviour’. Then, he takes it away completely (aka he treats Will like shit) and leaves Will desperate for more affection.

Proof:

*After the manor arc, Montresor lets Will take a nap on his arm despite throwing a fit about Will touching him a few episodes earlier thus, the perfect example of the push-pull method. After denying Will what he wants, he gives it, to remind Will who is in charge*

*Back to the hands part, I believe Monty has made physical contact their ‘currency’, which he will withdraw and give whenever it is convenient to keep Will in line.*

Adding onto that, second proof:

*Will’s love language is definitely touch. LOOK AT THAT HUG. Montresor knows this and this is why touch is their ‘currency’.*

• Though, I do suspect Montresor is actually touch averse from his trauma, so if the push-pull theory is incorrect, (and it could be because he doesn’t do it to Ada) it’ll mean he really just doesn’t know how to love. This gives Willtresor a chance to *blossom.*

*Yes, I will add it in every Willtresor post. See that Montresor is the one initiating contact? MHMHM.*

• Lastly, I wanna end this section off by saying BOTH of Montresor’s romantic relationships that are shown in the series are with women who he sees as ‘lesser’, much like how he sees Will. Therefore, I think Monty and Ada’s relationship is the same as or used to be what Willtresor has.

-Analysis of Will’s Behaviour-

• Will’s problem is possibly that he loves Montresor only for that one thing he did in the maze. He is in denial and keeps hanging onto the hope that his ab*ser might turn out to be that ‘good guy’ after all. Much like most Willtresor fans are hoping.

• If it’s not obvious enough, neither of them were truly ‘loved’ in their life and IT SHOWS!!! But both of them have very different ways to cope with this. While Montresor wants to have power over others and use their ‘devotion’ to fill the void, Will lands on the other side of the spectrum, trying to please everyone in an attempt to feel like *someone* cares for him even if they don’t.

Proof:

*Literally the entire series, so I don’t know what to put.*

• Also, just wanted to mention how pure Will’s love for Monty is and how easy Montresor, or anyone really, can manipulate this.

Proof:

*Two instances of Will looking at Monty. First one being when they are walking with Annabel’s group; he has no reason to look at him but yet he did by instinct. Shows how he has it fully engraved in his mind that Monty is his one and only real friend. 😭 Sweet, sure, but also SCARY AS HECK.*

*Not entirely relevant, but to keep this post light-hearted: Monty also seems to look at Will instinctively too.*

Next proof:

*He respects Montresor’s boundaries oml. Will, while drunk and panicked, stopped himself before touching Monty because he’d said earlier not to. HE IS A SWEETHEART AHHHHH.*

And also, Will being such a lovesick idiot led to:

Yup. That concludes my speech on why Will’s puppy love for Monty is freaking terrifying.

-Overall-

• There is a chance this ship will bring forth the greatest redemption arc ever for Monty, but also a chance it’ll lead to either one or both of their downfalls.

More theories on this will be posted when I’m free. When it is posted, I will link it here.

(Please, please, please like this post. 😭 I love writing theories lol. If y’all like it too, I can keep going.)