#Tender affection expression

[candylandphotos]

Engagement love photo couple rings commitment happy relationship loving kiss❤️

"Sealed with a Loving Kiss: Capturing the Joyful Commitment and Tender Affection in this Engagement Photo ❤️"

[shisasan]

16 May, 1930 Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov

[tohruies]

i'll give you a piece of your favourite candy if you can tell what happens next ! ! 🍬

um 🥹 . what happens next is that . we . um . we kiss . um and . and when we pull away from each other, i cradle his face in my hands and look at him in distress, “yao, i think we need to kill femi.” he nods slowly, a bit concerned, but still takes me in his organic arm and uses his bionic one to propel us out of his house and to femi's location (yes he breaks the roof in the process) (yes we are still half naked) (yes we time-skipped into your plane of existence). he sets me on my feet and i run and break down the door to your house and hold you at gunpoint. <- gun that shoots out heart-shaped bubbles (they will kill you from how cute they are). you grovel at my feet, tears in your eyes. “coco, it had to be done, there was no other way!” i don’t care anymore. i hold the barrel to your forehead and then... the scene cuts to black before anyone knows what happens next. christopher nolan style ambiguous ending. period exclamation mark justify paragraph save as pdf upload file. aaand submit.

there, i told you what happens next … MAY I PRETTY PLEASE HAVE MY CANDY NOW 😒 /SILLY

[rosekasa]

i miss chat noir kissing ladybug's cheek....

[kurooh]

❤︎ LOVE POTIONS ! — MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. VALENTINE’S DAY 2025 — aphrodisiacs are both a curse and a blessing. / midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, todoroki shoto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, & takami keigo.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs / sex pollen, dirty talk, edging, brattiness, overstimulation, squirting, threesome, sickness but it’s sexy, breeding kink, unprotected sex.

xoxo, juno. everyone pretend it’s v-day 💘

MIDORIYA IZUKU.

⟡ getting hit by a villain’s quirk right before valentine’s day was not something you’d planned to do. somehow, the effects of the quirk end up being an early gift and also a curse.

fat tears race down izuku’s face, his hands grasping weakly at the sheets with each dizzying bounce of your ass onto his thighs. an hour has passed, spent in different positions around the house with less than five minute breaks in between—but no matter how many times you cum, the glowy pink ring around your irises doesn’t go away.

“too much, ‘s too much,” he slurs, words running into each other and becoming jumbled nonsense. “baby, i can’t, not anymore—shit! ‘m empty now, and it h-hurts so bad.”

“hurts?” you parrot disbelievingly, too deep under the spell to feel the burn in your thighs. “‘zuku, know what hurts?”

“no, i know,” he sobs, balls squeezing painfully as the familiar pressure returns to his cock. it’s familiar, but it’s not the same; there’s no cum involved, he’s been drained too dry to give you anything. “l-last time, please. i need a minute to, ngh, relax.”

it hurts. izuku’s cock is practically purple with overstimulation, but he’s too entranced to pull you off himself. when you’d arrived home, tugging at his belt and babbling about what had happened, izuku took a moment to consider if he had any notes on something like this.

villains with these types of quirks have always been rare, and it’s just his luck that one popped up before valentine’s day.

the couch groans from the combination of movement and weight on it, yawning with wear. izuku has never underestimated your strength or sex drive, but this . . you’re bouncy, and he’s wondering if the villain’s quirk enhanced your stamina too.

in a startling display of affection, you grab at his jaw and kiss away his tears, cooing sweet, sensual nothings into his ear. your voice is smooth when you tell him how good he’s doing, how sexy he looks when he’s whining so sweetly. just when he’s thinking it can’t get any better, you hit him where he’s weakest with a sultry murmur of want you to put a baby in me, izuku.

flustered, he can’t help but let out a squeal when you nip at his neck, kissing over previous bites and smatterings of freckles.

“do what you want with me,” he surrenders, verdant green eyes meeting your own. “hah, if that’s what you want, jus’ use me. fuck me, baby.”

BAKUGO KATSUKI.

⟡ you have the misfortune of tracking a villain with japan’s number one hero, the all too explosive dynamight. everything completely unravels during the confrontation, when katsuki’s rushing forward to deliver the final blow. the dastardly villain releases a thick, noxious smoke that fills the air with a sickening sweetness — despite all the coughing and hacking, he manages to subdue the villain until the police arrive, but you never make it back to the agency to regroup.

ridiculous, is all you can think as you’re being folded in half in the back of a company car that’s sneakily wedged in an alleyway. katsuki’s not-so-gentle teeth nip at the tender skin of your thighs, and he doesn’t think twice about the marks that are sure to show up by tomorrow.

“d-deeper, katsuki,” you writhe against the seats, too handsy for his liking. “please, it’s not deep eno—”

“shut it,” he grunts, scowling down at you. his usual expression doesn’t quite have the same effect it usually does, since it’s been mellowed out by the villain’s aphrodisiac like quirk. “don’t you dare tell me how to fuck, got it?”

a bratty huff escapes you, and you make a show of rolling your eyes at him, seemingly unimpressed. “i wouldn’t have to if you’d just do it right. oh, but who am i to judge the number one?”

a vein bulges from his forehead as he listens, crimson eyes seething silently while you continue to lay it on thick. “i guess dynamight can fuck however he wants, even if it’s subpar—”

in an instant, katsuki’s hand is on your throat and applying just enough pressure to force out a gasp from you. that teasing and talking back worked—now he’s really about to come undone, show you just how strong the number one pro can really be.

“can’t take that back now, can you? if you think you can insult me and order me around, oh,” katsuki grinds his teeth, pressing your knees into your chest without taking a moment to appreciate the pretty moan that leaves you. “fuck, you’ve got another thing coming. shut your mouth.”

“make me.”

he can’t seem to recall a time where he’s ever been this turned on—that aphrodisiac quirk’s got nothing on the way you talk to him, challenge him in a way that nobody has before.

katsuki draws his hips back, slow and deliberate in each movement. you were right, he wasn’t giving you his all; but now, he will, and he won’t stop until you eat your words. deeper? harder? faster? if that’s what you’re asking for, he’ll give it to you.

you watch breathlessly, mesmerized by the frustrated scrunch of his face, all because he can’t stop replaying your words in his head. a harsh slap to your clit snaps you out of your daze the moment it lands, stinging terribly.

“let’s work up to that, alright? you’re going to—”

“what if i don’t, katsuki?” you tip your chin up at him, looking down your nose at him. “then what?”

another slap, this time with a little more strength behind it. he disregards everything you just said, getting ready to give you an explosive orgasm you’ll have to work hard for.

“that’s what. now, let’s try that again—you’ll be good and count each slap, unless you want me to spank this slutty pussy raw,” satisfied by the responding clench of your cunt, he arches a brow and smirks. “your choice, brat.”

TODOROKI SHOTO.

⟡ with a new, unstable virus spreading rapidly through japan, scientists are racing to develop a cure. it seems to act like the standard flu, but it affects quirk users differently—shoto ends up with an unusual kind of fever.

“ah, ‘m cumming, sho,” cum squirts from your pussy like a waterfall, and everything’s so overwhelming that you unintentionally push his cock out. “good, ‘s so fucking good.”

sweat coats his face, clinging to the rough scar on shoto’s left side. panting, he sucks in a breath, grasping around for his swollen cock.

“i’m sorry,” his voice cracks once his tip slides through your sticky folds and makes your back jolt off the bed, “it’s just—shit, it’s not enough.”

“a-again? i, hah, don’t know if that’s a good—”

shoto shakes his head, shivering as a thin layer of frost appears on his right cheek; it sparkles brilliantly before melting into droplets of water that drip from his jaw. “i’m still burning up,” it’s completely out of bounds, but the low rasp of his sickly voice scratches an itch in your brain. “see, lovey? can’t even use my quirk to fix it.”

a sigh escapes you, and you spread your trembly thighs one more time. “i might be too tired to drive you to the hospital after this,” you warn.

“i know, but baby,” gratefully, shoto pushes forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside you. his warm hand settles on your lower belly to add some pressure, gearing you up for another explosive orgasm. “i don’t wanna be like this when we go to the hospital.”

he flushes darkly with embarrassment, and the mental image of a tortured shoto rutting into a hospital bed as waves of the fever’s severe effects overwhelm him is enough to make you soften.

once he starts to thrust, developing a rhythm that would put your own fingers to shame, his mouth drops open and he’s babbling incoherently. “ . . always so fucking hot around you, baby. i-it’s not my fault you’re so—haa, shit—so perfect, making me burn up whenever you’re not looking.”

and because being this deep inside you is as close as he can get to heaven, shoto sees no reason to hold back on the honest praise. he’s always been a little shy to express himself during sex, mouth drying up whenever he tries to say something rather dirty, but not now. since his brain is being fried by the heat at the moment, he won’t feel any embarrassment.

“sho, right there,” a breath is punched out of your lungs, and your nails scratch at his shoulders each time his tip kisses your sweet spot. “oh god, ‘m gonna make a mess again!”

his cock twitches and he moans your name, only egging you on. “can’t wait to taste it, darling.”

you fall off the edge, his words serving as the final push. euphoria curls through you, cresting like a wave until the sensitivity becomes too much, bringing you back to earth. abs clenching, shoto pulls out to cover your stomach in white.

in an instant, shoto’s temperature drops. quietly, he shivers against you, huffing into your neck.

“i want to stay like this before we leave.”

“you’ve got ice forming rapidly on your back, sho.”

“it’ll melt if i’m cuddling with you . . could you also rub my back? maybe i just need to sleep it off.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

⟡ eijirou listened to you specifically tell him NOT to eat the wrapped cookies you had in the fridge and when you left, he did exactly that.

“babe, baby, you feel so good,” cum races down his fingers in creamy rivulets, puddling at the base of his cock. caught up in his fantasy, eijirou flicks his wrist faster, hoping with all his heart to imitate the hot squeeze of your cunt. “s-so pretty when you take me, always so fuckin’ beautiful.”

his voice cracks just as the door opens, and your purse falls to the floor. your boyfriend is spread out on the bed, flushed feverishly and gasping out your name like he’s delirious—it would be the perfect scene to come home to if you didn’t spot two torn cookie wrappers near him.

“eijirou,” you speak his name lowly, catching his eyes and raising a brow. he’s not sure if he should feel awkward or turned on because of your scolding tone, so he just swallows dryly and looks toward you with hooded eyes. “already forgot the speech i gave you? why’d you eat the cookies?”

shame creeps up his neck and makes his skin prickle uncomfortably. grasping for a response, eijirou decides to question you right back. “why’d you have sex cookies in the fridge?”

“they were a surprise for valentine’s!”

oh.

now he really feels dumb for spoiling your plans. perhaps if he hadn’t been so hungry, so greedy, he wouldn’t be embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

but the feeling doesn’t last long—your tough face drops into something more sultry: doe eyes and an upturned quirk of your lips that’s sure to finish him.

the mattress sinks under your weight, and you scoot beside him with a self satisfied smile. it’s small and quiet, but a voice in the back of his head tells him maybe you wanted this to happen; you certainly don’t look too upset about it.

“no way, baby,” a hiss escapes him when you slap his cum-stained hand away from his cock, instead choosing to replace them with your own. “am i dreaming? mrs. red riot, are you—”

his narration throws you off, and you choke just kissing his tip. you know eijirou’s surprised and eternally grateful, but damn. “mr. red riot, you’d be quiet if you wanted me to.”

“sorry,” he says earnestly, tensing up to hide the fact that he’s shaking like a leaf when you finally take him in your mouth. “i’ve just—” he inhales sharply as you slowly, torturously take him inch by inch. “i’ve been waiting s-so long for you to come home, babe.”

you swallow, throat squeezing tight around his cock, and eijirou’s clean hand flies to the back of your head, hovering precariously. “i’m crazy about you, all day every day, and the cookies made it worse. ‘m sorry for spoiling the surprise, i didn’t mean to—haa, w-what’re you doing to me? oh, you’re gonna make me—”

it doesn’t take long for obscene slurps and occasional gags to fill the room as you suck eijirou’s cock, spoiling him with each languid bob of your head. it’s too much, and the tension grows thicker in his gut, setting his insides ablaze with anticipation.

he’s hurtling toward his high, jerking his hips up and shamelessly preparing to fill up your throat this quickly—but then, you push yourself off of him. a shudder ripples through his body, and he throws you a pained, wide eyed look.

“why’d you..? baby?”

you motion for him to lay on his back, and he can see the gears in your head turning behind a wicked smile. “might as well draw it out, hm?”

“you’re gonna milk me?”

he’s so cute . .

you want to see him crying.

you hum, “only until you’re begging for me to stop.”

KAMINARI DENKI, ft. SERO HANTA

⟡ an undercover sting at a mysterious village with your work partners doesn’t go as smoothly as planned. the village, out in the far country, has been reported as the one place with the highest levels of quirk activity in japan. little did you know about the fact that this place is home to infectious pollen that makes its way into people via the air, or about its temporary effects on people . .

“what the fuck,” you moan, vision blurry between their faces and intermittent flashes of light. “there’s no way it’s from a plant, it can’t be—”

hanta’s tongue darts out to lick the salt away from his upper lip, and he points a finger toward a passage in the encyclopedia. “the symptoms are, ngh, the same.”

one of your hands works denki’s cock while the other shakily flips through an encyclopedia of germs and the like; hanta’s buried to the hilt inside of you, tan cheeks flushed with exertion.

“can’t you just read after?” denki unhelpfully suggests, blinking back a few tears while sparks of electricity fly off from his blond hair. “let’s just fix—yeah, baby, jus’ like that—fix the problem now and figure it out later.”

“shut it, denks,” hanta rolls his eyes, rocking his hips into you. despite the fact that the three of you are totally naked and in the middle of some kind of threesome, you’re researching what apparently caused this surge of uncontrollable arousal.

things began not long after you arrived in the village, where everything had looked unsuspecting and normal. surely there was a villain lurking around somewhere . . ? why else would there be so much unusual activity, enough to alert the authorities?

“look, they f-found something similar in america,” hanta’s voice wavers uncharacteristically, his own high racing through him with such intensity he doubles over.

“forget about the book,” denki’s begging while pressing dazed kisses to your tits, one hand tossing the book aside and slipping between your trembling thighs. “c’mon, babe. show us what you look like when you cum.”

perhaps this is something to be selfish about — when will an opportunity to fuck your hot coworkers come around again? hanta’s everything you’ve been daydreaming about, with a muscular physique sharp enough to have been cut from stone. denki’s just as attractive, though his features are softer, the result of his constant snacking while on the job or in the agency.

hanta nods in assent, already trailing over the edge. “want you to gush all over me, baby.”

thrashing under denki’s fingers, it momentarily occurs to you that maybe they’re a little too experienced. neither of them were concerned with a threesome when it was suggested, and there’s no mistakes in their almost synchronized movements.

just watching your eyes flutter and roll back is enough to make denki cum with a moan of your name as his cock sprays white. hanta’s pupils probably dilate a hundred times their size at the erotic sight, and his hips begin to stutter as heat races up his spine.

denki, shaking profusely, musters his voice and maintains his hurried pace. “g-good girl, go on ‘n let it out.”

since stepping foot into the village and inhaling that damn pollen, the pro hero’s been getting realistic flashes of thoughts he’s kept locked away for some time. you, on your knees, looking up at him like you’re ready to do more than just please. you, with your pretty eyes full of tears as you lose your mind beneath him.

an orgasm stronger than the lustful effects of any aphrodisiac tears through you, and your cunt bears down so hard it forces out hanta’s own high as well. with all his might, he tries to resist the surge of weakness that hits him and fails—he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely and burying his face in your neck.

loosely, your jaw hangs open and breathy gasps leave your mouth. denki’s sparking with electricity beside you and simultaneously struggling to get it under control. a single yellow spark flies off his body and mildly electrocutes hanta, snapping him back to reality. he jerks against you, sounding exhausted.

“uh. so, um, what’re we supposed to report when we get back?”

TAKAMI KEIGO.

⟡ bless his heart. for valentine’s, he decides to be a silk heart-shaped box of japan’s most expensive chocolate for you. he’d been so focused on finding your favorite flavors along with new ones that he didn’t even realize that he’d purchased sex chocolate.

“it hurts, dovey. it’s s-so painful.”

since sharing the box of chocolates with you, keigo’s been reduced to a pathetic mess who can’t seem to stop shaking when you just barely touch him. vermilion feathers puff up and out at his back, his messy wings conveying the way he’s crumbling inside.

you’re just as hot, skin crawling with a lustful itch only keigo can scratch for you. the frenetic beating of his wings whips up cold gusts of wind stronger than any ceiling fan, and not a single goosebump rises on your skin.

“right there, kei,” you moan, tears gathering in your eyes as he continuously hits your sweet spot. “oh my god, don’t stop.”

as if he’d ever plan to.

he hiccups, face flushed and hair tousled like he’s just returned from some mission out in the wild. softly, with the barest note of urgency, keigo whines out your name and a request.

“dovey, c’mon,” his voice cracks halfway through his sentence, shattered with unmistakable pleasure. “just tell me what you want, and i’ll, ah, i’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

keigo’s entire body thrums with the need, the purpose, to please you, and his own pleasure hinges on you and your praise. sure enough, you cry out to him, words saccharine and addicting.

“make me cum, kei,” and he doesn’t need any further instruction, not when he knows your body this well. smooth fingers slip between your thighs and work your clit, causing your back to arch when he applies just enough pressure to send electricity through your nerves.

you’re wrapping around keigo’s waist, drawing him in and breaking down his self control easily.

“want me to fill up this pussy, baby? i can do it again and again—” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts that amplify the clap of skin against skin almost as much as a quirk could, “while you take it like you were made to.”

quaking beneath him, you nod frantically, as if those are the words you’ve been waiting to hear. while he was so vividly illustrating the scene, his wings unconsciously began to wrap around your bodies, a sign of how much he wants it too.

you gasp, eyes squeezing shut with the last image being keigo’s face, twisted in ecstasy and scrunched with concentration. “gonna—‘m gonna cum, kei!”

“with me, dovey, please,” sweat pours down the sides of his face as the heated bliss tightens in his gut, applying an unbearable pressure to his cock. “let me feel you cum around me, ughhh.”

sloppily, keigo presses open mouthed kisses to your lips, and a delighted moan escapes him when you kiss back. your lips are soft against his, and your tongue carries the sweet taste of valentine’s chocolates, the expensive ones he’d come home with earlier.

with his orgasm creeping up on him and dulling his surroundings, a brief thought occurs to him about those chocolates. the sales lady had raised a brow when he filled up the customizable box with many pink chocolates that had been sitting in a case separate from the rest.. no, that can’t be right. surely this is the common valentine’s day effect on couples—it can’t be from the chocolate, can it?

[artbynestor]

"Maryam" by Nestor

In a hauntingly beautiful black and white scene, a mother cradles her child in her arms, embodying a profound bond that transcends darkness. The abstract backdrop enhances the emotional depth, merging shadows with the tender light of maternal affection. This piece captures the duality of love and vulnerability, evoking both warmth and the mysteries of existence.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

#MotherAndChild, #ProfoundBond, #DarknessAndLight, #BlackAndWhiteArt, #EmotionalDepth, #MaternalAffection, #SurrealArt, #ArtByNestor

[unboundprompts]

Can you do some more body language descriptions? For different emotions like Worry, sadness, love, etc!! Ty🩷🩷

Body Language Descriptions

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Worry

She wrung her hands together, her fingers twisting nervously as she struggled to keep her thoughts in check.

He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze darting anxiously around the room.

She pulled at her sleeve, the movement repetitive and absentminded as her mind raced.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a habit that betrayed his inner turmoil.

They hugged their arms tightly across their chest, as if trying to hold themselves together.

She paced the room, her steps quick and uneven as she tried to shake off the nagging sense of dread.

Sadness

She wiped at her eyes, even though no tears had fallen yet.

He let his shoulders sag, his whole body slumping as if the weight of the world rested on him.

She clutched her scarf tightly, her fingers gripping the fabric like it was the only thing grounding her.

He kept his head low, staring at the ground as if afraid to meet anyone’s eyes.

They let out a shaky exhale, the sound heavy with unspoken grief.

She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

Love

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile soft and shy as she met his gaze.

He brushed her hand lightly, the touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

They leaned closer, their knees nearly touching, as if drawn together by an invisible force.

She tilted her head slightly, her expression tender and full of quiet affection.

He laughed easily, the sound warm and unguarded, his gaze never leaving her face.

She reached out to fix his collar, her fingers lingering as she adjusted it carefully.

Guilt

He avoided her eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

She rubbed her temples, her hands trembling.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to stay still.

She clasped her hands tightly behind her back, her knuckles white as she fought to remain composed.

They bit their lower lip, their jaw tightening.

He fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his movements jerky and hesitant.

Fear

She took a step back, her breath quickening as her eyes darted to the nearest exit.

He clenched the fabric of his shirt over his chest, as if trying to steady his pounding heart.

She froze in place, her body stiff and her movements tentative, like a deer caught in headlights.

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly as he fought to calm himself.

They pressed their back against the wall, their hands splayed out.

She whispered under her breath, her words shaky and barely audible.

Jealousy

He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as his gaze followed her every move.

She tapped her foot impatiently, the rhythm sharp and irritated as she forced a smile.

He clenched his fists at his sides, the tension in his knuckles betraying his calm demeanor.

She cast a sideways glance, her lips pressed into a thin line.

They shifted in their seat, their shoulders stiff.

He ran his fingers through his hair, his movements brisk and frustrated as he fought to contain his thoughts.

Relief

She exhaled deeply, her shoulders dropping as the tension melted away.

He ran a hand down his face, his smile faint but unmistakably genuine.

She laughed shakily, her hand pressed to her chest as if trying to steady her racing heart.

He slumped against the nearest chair, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up.

They let their head fall back, their eyes closing as a soft, contented sigh escaped their lips.

She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the surface of the table as the weight lifted from her mind.

Embarrassment

She tugged at the collar of her shirt, her cheeks flushing as she avoided everyone’s gaze.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his lips twitching into an awkward, forced smile.

She bit her lip, her hands fluttering nervously.

He let out a strained laugh, scratching the side of his head.

They hid their face in their hands, peeking out between their fingers with a sheepish grin.

She stumbled over her words, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt as her cheeks burned bright red.

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 

“Please Zayne…kiss me” 

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[kamitv]

Husband!Sukuna who isn’t sensitive, he swears. But when it’s you? He’s still not sensitive. Just… alert, if you will. Tense even. But not sensitive. Affection starved? Perhaps, but he won’t ever say that to you.

Husband!Sukuna doesn’t even realize how much his body longs for your touch. In the beginning of your relationship with him, he used to curse you out for touching him too often but now? Ever so softly would Sukuna relax after a touch from you.

His favorite touches from you come from when you’re half-asleep.

Early in the morning, practically at the crack of dawn, you’d wake up and turn to your grumpy husband. He’s never truly asleep but he often pretends to be, something you’d picked up on a long time ago.

Even so, he’d feel you move around in the bed but what always gets him is you tossing your leg over him and laying half of your body on top of his, your head using his naked chest as a pillow.

Husband!Sukuna swears he hates when you do that—or that’s what he tells you anyway. Then comes your hand, snaking up his chest, feeling every cut and crease of his abs until you reach his neck.

Then your finger is outlining his jawline. That drives him mad, such a soft and faint touch that makes him swallow thickly as he body struggles not to react to you.

He’s not sensitive. But he is tense.

Following those gentle touches is something you'd never dare to do when you're not in your sleep-induced state. You sit up and comfort yourself right on his lap, thighs spread over your husband, who's currently pretending to be asleep.

Though, his false state of rest falters when you get on top of him, your hands pressed so lightly on his chest and your panty-clad cunt resting right over his rising cock. He really was a simple male at heart, despite not showing it or expressing it much, if ever at all.

Eyes cracking open and settling on you, the woman in which he's decided to claim as his wife, your Husband!Sukuna releases a long sigh and his hands begin to move, finding their rightful place on your thighs.

Your skin is so fucking soft in comparison to his own, rough fingers caressing your thighs as Sukuna swears he's dreaming because just who exactly has given you permission to mount him in such a sexual manner?

"Woman," Sukuna grunts out, "Get off me."

A smile, one that he enjoys seeing deep deep deep down inside, graces your tired features and it makes his body freeze up a little, "Husband," You call out mockingly, "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you look while you're sleeping?"

"No." He answers boringly.

You chuckle and it makes his ears twitch, "Are you aware that even in your sleep your brows tense up?" You murmur to the man as you take one finger and bring it up to his brows, poking the space in between them, "Hm?"

His grouchy facial expression doesn't change, "I am now," He replies, voice raspy and making you squirm slightly in his lap, "Are you aware that after being fucked for five hours straight you wake up the next morning annoying me more than normal?"

Your head tilts as you flash him those loving eyes of yours with a grin far too cheerful for these early mornings, "I'm annoying you?"

"Yes." He deadpans.

"Aw," You weigh forward over your husband and plant a sweet kiss right onto the skin of his tatted forehead, "Love you too 'Kuna."

There's this weird chill that shudders throughout his body as your lips press against his skin and he frowns before muttering, "Get off of me."

Your grin widens and you plant a few more pecks of affection all over his aggravated expression, "Mmmmmh, no."

"Insufferable you are, truly." Sukuna sighs and his big hands travel upward along the softness of your thighs, soothing over your legs back and forth in a way that's almost tender.

Your lips meet his jaw and you lick him, to which he kisses his teeth. "You said the same thing during our wedding night I believe," You remind him.

A thick brow of his arches, "And?"

"I think being mean is your love language." You lean back up and stare down at the full glory of your husband.

Ruby red eyes all low up on you, almost as if you were the only thing worth gazing upon, "Mh." He hums.

The look on your face changes a bit as the sun peeking into your bedroom filters around your sleeping space and casts a warm glow against your grumpy husband's features. You run your hands down his tattooed chest again and whisper his name beneath your breath, "Sukuna..."

He glares at you, like always, and his tone is beyond flat, "Woman."

And suddenly you're smiling, "Ryomen."

"Don't," He huffs before rolling his eyes elsewhere. You only ever call him that when you're about to say-

"I love you."

It's quiet for a long awkward moment, as always whenever you utter those three words to him. Husband!Sukuna can't stand it when you say that. It's such a ridiculous thing for humans to say.

So, instead of saying it back, he just grumbles an (attempted) affectionate, "I tolerate you too."

As always, you're left baffled by the difficulty he finds in saying he loves you too, "I-"

"Now get off me, I won't tell you again." Your husband scoffs with this cute, yet still grumpy, scrunch of his nose.

Just staring down at him makes you want to devour him whole. How can this big softy possibly be the king of curses who many fear to much.

Hell, you don't even hesitate to reply to his order with one of your own, "Make me."

Who would expect anything less from the wife of Sukuna Ryomen, of course you don't follow his every command like everyone else, he married you for that reason exactly. "Testing my patience early today, huh?" Sukuna asks, giving you little to no time to reply before he's moving.

Now, sometimes you forget the sheer size difference between you and your husband. Which is completely okay, he's sure to remind you of it within a few seconds as he flips you over onto your back and pins you down onto the bed below.

Pink hair all ruffled, expression as pouty and irritated as always, like some kinda' big cat, and beefy arms pinning you with a force that's so notably gentle you can't help the smile that sparks across your face.

Giggling too, "Hi Ryo'."

He grits his teeth at the sound of that nickname but the corner of his lips twitch, "....Hi wife." Sukuna say begrudgingly. Then... Then comes your full smile. "Don't make that face, you look foolish."

"I'm smiling?" You snort as your brows meet.

He scoffs, "Foolish."

Your hands rise up to his face to cup in your palms, to which he instantly leans into your touch. "It's okay to soften up every now and then, y'know."

His gaze does exactly that and he presses his cheek further against the warmth of your hands, "This is me softening up."

"You do so very poorly," You tell him honestly.

And to your surprise, Sukuna blinks. "Teach me, then."

"Hm?"

He leans down, past your touch, and whispers against your lips, "Teach me to be soft." He says lovingly before kissing you.

You merely melt into the connection of his lips to yours. Your arms loop around his neck and you hold him close as you pry from him to whisper right back, "It's not hard, just... talk nicer to me."

His eyes narrow skeptically, "Is that truly what you want?"

"I wouldn't mind it, yes." You taunt with a little shrug.

With a heavy sigh, Sukuna repositions his large body in between your legs, "Just for now then."

You look down and scoff lightly, "Hm?"

"I'll be 'soft" while you rid me of this," He continues, pressing the large curve of his hardened cock right against your flimsy panties.

Your eyebrows shoot up and your lashes bat at his words, "Oh, so you're gonna talk me through it for once?"

Sukuna draws his hips back just a little, only to rock the forwards against your warm clothed cunt seconds latter, chuckling cockily, "Don't I always?"

Your lips pull into a thin line, as best as you can, while you glare up at him, "No, you curse me through it."

"You enjoy it," He says with a shrug., working up that delicious friction between his body and yours.

Your gaze wonders elsewhere for a mere moment as you allow your legs to then wrap around his waist and encourage his grind against you. Then, with parted lips and a shaky sigh, "Yes, but it'd be nice for you to talk nicer to me sometimes."

"Mhm," Sukuna nods genuinely. Surely, whatever his wife desires of him... he'll be sure to put forth his best effort in satisfying said desire, "I will try. Now, let's get all this off of you..."

[gf2bellamy]

excitement — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer visits you in your apartment. he doesn't realize penelope is there too. content warnings: secret relationship ? a/n: i haven't had this much fun writing something in ages - garcia is so much fun to write for

Spencer Reid was practically buzzing with excitement. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he walked down the street, clutching a book he'd been waiting months to get his hands on.

But what thrilled him even more than the book itself was where he was headed—and who he was about to see. 

You. 

You were his favorite person in the world, the one who made the chaos of his job and his overactive mind feel calm, centered, and safe.

Tonight, he planned to settle into your cozy apartment, his head in your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, while he read the book he’d ordered ages ago. The thought alone was enough to make his steps quicken. 

Spencer’s long legs carried him up the stairs to your apartment, his mind preoccupied with his excitement to tell you all about his book. When he reached your door, he pulled out the key you'd given him months ago—a small gesture that still warmed his heart whenever he thought about it—and let himself in. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered anything else. Such as Penelope's shoes at the door or her jacket.

A soft hum escaped his lips as he closed the door behind him, kicking it shut gently with his foot. 

Spencer took off his shoes, leaving them by the door , same with his jacket. He moved with a deliberate quietness, tiptoeing toward the kitchen. A soft smile danced on his lips as he peeked around the corner, watching you stand there with your back to him. 

Without hesitation, he stepped closer and slid his arms gently around your waist from behind, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. His touch was warm and familiar, showing how much he had missed you. 

“Hi,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection. 

You jumped at the sudden contact, startled, your body going stiff as a flicker of panic surged through you. 

“Spencer, wait—” you started, your voice just above a whisper, but he was gazing at you with that sweet, boyish smile that always made your heart stutter. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his expression soft and utterly oblivious to your alarm. 

You stared at him, momentarily distracted by how happy he looked. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the adoration in his gaze—it made your mind go blank for a second. 

“Hi,” he repeated softly, leaning in to nuzzle his face against your cheek. 

And then it hit you again. Oh, no. 

“Spencer,” you hissed, your voice dropping to a sharp whisper as you heard a faint noise from the other room. 

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Penelope is here,” you whispered urgently, your hands moving to grip his forearms. 

His entire body tensed as the words sank in. “What?” he asked again, his voice an octave higher this time, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. 

“Yes,” you whispered , glancing nervously toward the living room. “She’s here. She’s in the other room!” 

For a split second, Spencer froze, and you could feel the wave of panic rolling through him. His arms slackened slightly, his gaze darting between you and the doorway.

“You didn’t mention she’d be here tonight!” he whispered back, his voice tinged with borderline panic. 

“I wasn’t expecting you so early!” you shot back, keeping your voice low. 

He stared at you, wide-eyed, and for a moment, you were pretty sure this was one of the rare instances where Spencer Reid was completely speechless.

His mouth opened as if to say something, but nothing came out. 

Another noise from the living room broke the tense silence, and you immediately wriggled out of his touch, your mind racing for a solution. 

“Just say you came to, uh…” you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to conjure up an excuse. 

“Give you a book,” Spencer interjected suddenly, his voice quiet but urgent. He held up the hardcover like it was a golden ticket. “I got the book I told you about. I wanted to read it here, actually.” 

You noticed the way he scratched the back of his head nervously. It was so endearing, your heart ached a little. He’d clearly been looking forward to spending the evening with you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your lips curling into an apologetic smile as you reached out to brush your fingers lightly against his arm. “I promise, you’ll get to read it soon.” 

“With you,” he added quickly, his eyes meeting yours. 

“With me,” you confirmed, the tenderness in his gaze making you momentarily forget about the storm brewing in the next room. 

And then Penelope’s voice rang out from the living room: 

“Why do you have two toothbrushes in here?” 

Both of you froze. Spencer’s eyes widened comically, and you watched as a flash of panic spread across his face. 

You stifled a laugh, your shoulders shaking slightly at his frantic attempt to keep it together.

Meanwhile, Penelope’s footsteps grew louder. 

“Just… stay calm,” you whispered, biting your lip to keep from giggling outright. “Stay calm?” Spencer whispered back, clutching the book like a shield. “She’s about to start connecting the dots, and you want me to stay calm?” 

Before you could respond, Penelope’s voice cut through the silence once again. 

“I require an answer—” she started, but the rest of her words caught in her throat the moment her eyes landed on Spencer standing there, wide-eyed and awkward. 

“Well, hello there,” she said, her expression shifting into a sly smile as she tilted her head. 

Spencer froze like a deer in headlights, his grip on the book tightening. Meanwhile, you stood rooted to the spot, trying to keep your own expression neutral, though your mind was scrambling for a way to diffuse the situation. 

“I—uh—I came here to drop off a… book,” Spencer stammered, holding up the hardcover like it was an offering of peace. 

Penelope arched an eyebrow, her smile widening as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “How thoughtful of you, Doctor Reid,” she said, her tone dripping with playful suspicion. “I assume this was a very urgent delivery, considering you brought it over in person and not, you know, gave it to her tomorrow. At work.” 

Spencer blinked, clearly flustered, and glanced at you for help. You, however, couldn’t suppress a small grin as you watched this unfold. 

“It’s, uh… a very special book,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “Rare. Hard to find. I thought she’d appreciate it sooner rather than later.” 

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she stepped a little closer, clearly enjoying how nervous he was. “Uh-huh,” she said slowly, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “And how long were you planning on staying for this… literary exchange?” 

“Not long!” Spencer blurted out, his voice a bit too loud. “I was just… going to, uh…” 

You bit back a laugh as you saw the panic flood his face. Spencer was completely unraveling under Penelope’s relentless curiosity, and you figured it was time to step in. 

“Pen,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. “Stop torturing him. He did just come by to drop off a book. Isn’t that right, Spence?” 

“Y-yes,” Spencer stammered, nodding furiously. 

“Perfect,” you said smoothly, placing a hand on his arm and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Spencer, why don’t you just go put the book in my room?” 

His eyes flicked to yours, and he nodded again, clearly grateful for the lifeline. Without another word, he hurried down the hallway toward your room, clutching the book.

As soon as Spencer disappeared down the hallway, Penelope turned back to you, her grin widening, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. 

“Spencer is here,” she stated flatly, her smile never wavering. 

“I’m very aware of that,” you replied, giving her a pointed look. You tried your best to keep your composure, but the urge to nervously tap your fingers on the counter was almost overwhelming.Something about Penelope's tone was starting to make you uneasy, and you were unsure of what direction this was going. 

“He’s in your home,” she added again, this time stretching out the words like they were some sort of grand revelation. 

“Pen,” you said slowly, raising an eyebrow as you turned to face her. Your confusion was now shifting into something else.The two cups of tea you’d made earlier sat forgotten on the counter. 

You heard Spencer’s footsteps approaching from the hallway, and as he rounded the corner back into the kitchen, Penelope’s eyes followed him like a hawk, never missing a beat. 

“And he knows where your room is,” she added, her grin spreading wider than ever. 

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you were pretty sure you and Spencer came to the same realization at the exact same time. 

Penelope had caught you. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Spencer freeze mid-step, his expression going blank as his eyes flicked to Penelope, and then back to you. There was no hiding it now. 

You could practically hear the wheels turning in his mind. 

“Penelope” you started, but the words caught in your throat as you tried to process everything in a split second. 

You turned to Spencer, locking eyes with him, silently begging him to help you come up with something—anything that could smooth this over. But Spencer just stood there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly as baffled as you were.

Before either of you could find an excuse, Penelope let out an ear-piercing screech, making you flinch and almost slap your hands over your ears. 

“Oh my god!” she yelled, practically vibrating with excitement as she realized what your silence meant. She started hopping up and down. “I’m so happy for you!” 

“Penelope—” you tried again, your voice edged with panic, but she wasn’t listening. 

“Oh my god,” she repeated, this time slower, her tone laced with dramatic revelation. Her hand shot out, pointing directly at Spencer like she’d just solved a crime. 

“You!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. “Do you… live here?” 

You and Spencer both froze, exchanging a quick, panicked glance. Before either of you could deny it, Penelope’s eyes widened. 

“There were two toothbrushes,” she said, gasping like she’d just remembered something crucial. “Oh my god.” Her voice grew louder, each word building with excitement. “You live here!” 

“Penelope, no, it’s not like—” you started, holding your hands out in a desperate attempt to calm her down, but she barreled right over your words. 

“Don’t even try to deny it!” she nearly shouted, spinning around to face Spencer again.

Spencer, who had been awkwardly clutching his book to his chest like a shield, took a small step back as if he could physically escape Penelope’s relentless questioning. “I… I don’t live here,” he stammered weakly, though even he sounded unconvinced. 

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him, a grin still plastered across her face. “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why there are two toothbrushes in the bathroom. Oh! And don’t think I didn’t notice the extra pair of shoes by the door. Size 10 men’s, Spence!” 

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead as you felt your face flush with heat. This wasn’t just a confrontation anymore—this was a full-blown exposé. 

Penelope narrowed her eyes at you, her mind clearly racing as she tried to piece everything together. “How long has this been going on? How did I miss this? I mean, I am the queen of observation and gossip, and somehow you two snuck this right under my nose?” She started rambling, her words spilling out faster than either of you could respond. 

You shot a desperate look at Spencer, silently pleading for backup, but he just stood there wide-eyed.

Realizing you were on your own, you sighed and grabbed one of the tea cups sitting on the counter. It was lukewarm at best, but you needed something to focus on before Penelope’s intensity made your head spin. 

“Okay, come on,” you said, cutting through her rambling as gently as you could. You gestured toward the counter and guided her to sit on one of the stools. She followed you without protest, though she kept muttering under her breath, her curiosity clearly not yet satisfied. 

Spencer hovered behind you like an awkward shadow, his book still clutched to his chest like a lifeline. 

Penelope took the tea you handed her, sipping it absentmindedly. Her face scrunched slightly at the taste—it was cold and bitter by now—but she was too busy overthinking to notice or care. 

Spencer leaned down slightly, his lips brushing close to your ear as he whispered, “Is she… okay?” 

You fought back a laugh, biting your lip to suppress the grin that threatened to spread across your face. Tilting your head just enough to glance back at him over your shoulder, you whispered, “I think she’s broken.” 

A soft laugh escaped Spencer, his smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his expression so warm and full of affection that your heart skipped a beat. 

Before you could get lost in the moment, a loud, happy sigh broke the bubble around you both. 

The two of you snapped your attention back to Penelope, who was now sitting with her elbows propped on the counter, her chin resting in her hands as she gazed at you with a dreamy, contented smile. 

“I knew it,” she declared, her voice brimming with satisfaction. “I knew there was something between you two. But this… this is better than anything I could have imagined. It’s like a rom-com came to life right in front of me.”  

Spencer scratched the back of his neck, his face flushing an impressive shade of pink. “I don’t think it’s as dramatic as you’re making it sound,” he said awkwardly. 

Penelope gasped theatrically, pointing a finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor Reid. This is exactly as dramatic as I’m making it sound. I mean, look at you two! It’s disgustingly adorable. I don’t even care that you didn’t tell me sooner. I forgive you, because this—” she gestured wildly between the two of you, “—was worth the wait.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing as Spencer shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to respond to her enthusiasm. 

“This has been a wonderful night,” she said dramatically, clasping her hands together like she was narrating a fairytale. 

“Penelope,” you said, finally admitting defeat, “you cannot tell anyone.” 

Her expression shifted to an exaggerated pout, her brow furrowing as she looked between you and Spencer. You could feel his hand settle on the small of your back. 

“But why?” she whined, her tone bordering on indignant. “This is huge! People need to know about this. Do you realize how many people on the team have been secretly hoping for this to happen?” 

You sighed, glancing at Spencer for support. He gave you a small shrug, clearly as stumped as you were. 

“It’s… it’s just that we’d prefer to keep this private for now,” you explained, trying to sound firm but gentle. 

“Exactly,” Spencer echoed softly, speaking for the first time since Penelope had pieced everything together. 

Her gaze flicked to him, and for a moment, her excitement dimmed slightly. She studied the two of you, her expression softer now, almost understanding. 

“Okay,” she muttered, though it was clear she wasn’t thrilled. “Fine. I won’t say anything. For now.” 

You let out a small breath of relief, but it was short-lived as she hopped off the counter with a dramatic flourish. “Well, you two lovebirds have a beautiful evening,” she said, her voice sing-songy again as she grabbed her bag. 

“Penelope, hey—wait,” you called after her, guilt creeping in. “You don’t have to leave.” 

She stopped mid-step, turning back to look at you with raised eyebrows. “Oh, I definitely do,” she said, waving a finger in the air. “Because if I stay, I’ll just end up asking a million more questions or texting Derek, and you specifically told me not to do that. So, for the sake of your precious privacy, I’m going to remove myself from the situation.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but she cut you off with a knowing smile. “It’s fine,” she said softly, her tone genuine now. “I’ll leave you two alone. But just so you know, I’m very happy for you. And I mean that.” 

Spencer gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Penelope.” 

She beamed at him before turning back to you. “Oh, and one more thing—if you two keep this a secret forever, I will be mad. Just putting that out there.” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Noted.” 

She practically skipped to the wardrobe by the door. Both you and Spencer followed her, Spencer instinctively reaching for her jacket before she could even ask. 

“Thank you, loverboy,” she said with a teasing lilt as she accepted the jacket from him. Spencer’s ears turned a vivid shade of red, the flush creeping all the way up his neck. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, the fondness in your expression impossible to hide. Lightly squeezing Spencer’s hand, you felt his fingers tighten around yours in response. 

Penelope caught the moment, her grin widening as she shrugged on her jacket. “Oh, you two are going to kill me with how cute you are. I swear, I’m going to need to schedule a therapy session after this—just to process the sheer amount of joy.” 

As she finished putting on her shoes, she looked up at the two of you, her expression turning more serious. “But really—thank you for letting me in on this, even if it wasn’t exactly intentional.” 

You smiled warmly at her, wanting to make up for the messed up night. “How about we do this tomorrow?” you suggested, hoping to ease her disappointment at cutting the night short. 

Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Oh, yes! I’m going to need all the details. No sparing me the juicy bits, okay?” she said, pointing a playful finger at you. 

“Totally,” you replied with a small laugh, glad to see her mood lift again. 

“Well, I’m off now,” she announced dramatically, stepping toward you with open arms. You hugged her tightly, murmuring another soft, “Sorry,” into her shoulder. 

“Oh, stop that,” she chided gently, pulling back to give you a reassuring smile. Then, turning to Spencer, she reached out to lightly squeeze his arm. “And you,” she added with a teasing grin, “take care of our girl.” 

Spencer flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink, but he managed a small, shy smile. “I will,” he said softly, his voice sincere. 

Satisfied, Penelope gave a little wave as she turned to the door. “Goodnight, lovebirds! And don’t forget—I’m expecting details tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight, Penelope,” you both called after her in unison. 

As soon as the door clicked shut, you and Spencer turned to face each other, locking eyes for a brief moment before bursting into laughter.

“We are so dead,” you said between chuckles, shaking your head. 

“She’s going to tell everyone,” Spencer added, though his tone wasn’t nearly as panicked as before. 

You looked at him, your smile softening as the laughter subsided. “How about you go grab your book?” you suggested, tilting your head toward the hallway. 

Spencer didn’t hesitate. He spun on his heel and practically bolted to your room, moving so quickly it was almost comical. You let out another small chuckle, shaking your head fondly as you made your way to the couch. 

Settling down into your usual spot, you pulled a throw blanket over your legs and adjusted the cushions, making yourself comfortable. Moments later, Spencer returned, his book clutched in one hand. He stood there for a moment, looking at you with a contented smile, as though this quiet, simple moment was all he needed. 

“Come here,” you said gently, patting your lap. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. Spencer crossed the room and settled onto the couch, stretching out and laying his head in your lap. Your fingers found their way to his hair instinctively, weaving through the soft strands in a familiar, soothing motion. 

This was your routine, one you’d both fallen into, it felt like second nature. Spencer opened his book, the faint rustle of the pages filling the quiet space. 

After a few minutes, you broke the quiet. “Are you mad about Pen finding out?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing gently through his hair, pushing back the curls that had fallen into his eyes. 

“What? No,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to look up at you, his gaze full of warmth. 

You smiled at his response, but his curious expression prompted him to ask, “Why? Is it upsetting you?” 

You shook your head, a quiet laugh escaping as you glanced down at him. “No, no. Just a bit worried about how obvious she’s going to be when we get back to work,” you admitted, shifting your gaze to the wall in front of you as your fingers continued their soothing path through his hair. 

Spencer gently touched your wrist, his fingers warm against your skin. “Well, she’s gonna be plenty obvious, but is that really such a bad thing?” he asked, his voice soft but thoughtful. He paused for a moment before adding, “I mean… I wouldn’t mind if they knew about us.” 

His words made you stop for a second, and you looked down at him, your smile widening. “You wouldn’t?” you asked, surprised but clearly pleased by his honesty. 

“No,” he said, his voice quiet. Finally, he met your gaze, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart flutter. 

You resumed your gentle motions in his hair, feeling comforted by his sincerity. “Well, in that case,” you murmured, “tell me about your book.” 

And just like that, the shift in conversation had Spencer smiling like a child, his excitement clear as he started to rave about it, his voice animated and his eyes lighting up. You couldn’t help but smile at how easily he could lose himself in something that made him happy. 

You listened intently, absently running your fingers through his hair as he spoke, savoring this little piece of your routine with him.

[heartkaji]

currently thinking about bakugo “it’s not that deep” katsuki.

katsuki’s got a temper that makes him more chalant than not, but when it comes to everything else the blonde is relatively…unreactive. it’s not like he tries to be that way, he just has to be. when you’re surrounded by idiots like denki & sero on a daily basis, you eventually learn to choose your fucks & allocate them wisely.

“bakugo, class 1-B’s been hogging the hero equipment—how do we train now ?”

“it’s never that deep, tape face. just go later y’dumbass”

“bakubro, i think my situationship just blocked me—“

“literally just move on. really not that serious.”

the phrase has practically become katsuki’s signature one liner. so it’s a shock when his friends make you realize you’ve never actually heard the words from his lips.

“katsuki ? and nonchalant ? in the same sentence ? you must be joking.”

mina & sero are watching outer banks with your laptop while denki & kiri glance at each other in confusion. “you’re serious? he’s never said stuff like that to you ?”

“like ever?”

“never.” you run a brush through your hair. “though i guess i could imagine him talking to you guys that way.”

“double standards go crazy” mina mumbles. “real.”

“no, guys—all hope is not lost. it could be that y/n is really rational so he never has to say it, you feel me ?”

you scoff, but denki keeps talking, “we can test this out. just get y/n to act really dramatic and see how bakugo reacts.”

sero pauses the episode, ignoring the scowl that graces mina’s lips. “fifty bucks there really is a double standard and bakugo won’t act all nonchalant.”

“fifty bucks ? that’s half my salary!”

“not my fault you work at mcdonald’s dawg. you guys in or what ?”

kiri’s quick to strike the deal on kaminari’s behalf. denki’s about to protest when the fiery blond walks in.

“disgusting. why are you all sitting around like degenerates? not you baby.”

“what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’”

“hi ‘suki.” you purr, ignoring sero. katsuki dips his head to peck your lips, a quiet ‘hey pretty’ mumbled into your cheek.

sero snaps his fingers at the display of affection. “excuse me? in front of my obx?”

“the one you’re watching with my netflix subscription?” bakugo snaps the laptop shut and mina protests with a mouth full of popcorn. you’re about to playfully defend the duo when kirishima nudges your elbow. he cocks his head towards bakugo and you understand immediately.

“katsuki,” you tug at the hem of your boyfriend’s sleeve & look into his eyes with the most tender expression you can muster. “i’m out of lipliner.”

“okay ?”

you hear a snort and you know it’s from sero.

“there’s nothing ‘okay’ about it ‘suki. i need a new one or else i’ll literally die.”

bakugo’s brows knit in confusion. “is this your way of begging me for money?” he begins to dig at his wallet and you swat his arm away.

“beg is insane.”

“i don’t need your money.” you snap. “i need my lipliner. now”

“just order—“ “now.”

“what do you mean now? it’s almost nine pm, where the fuck are you going ?”

“nowhere. i just need it.”

“do you have a fever ?” “katsuki!”

“i need it now ‘suki,” you hug your arms around his body and place your chin on his chest. “if i don’t get it right now i’m literally gonna cry.”

your lips jut into a pout. you can tell he’s about to protest so you take his palm into your own. “it’s not that—fuck. whatever. where the hell are my keys ?”

he gently nudges you off him before grabbing the car keys off the front table, a string of grumbles leaving his lips as he sets out on the side quest regardless. he shuts the door behind him & suddenly the room buzzes back to life.

“y/n your pussy cannot be that good.”

“literally what i’m saying bro.”

“ho did you use rose quartz on him ??”

“i always knew you were a witch for real.”

“this whole interaction just piss me off.”

“i’m going home. denki and kiri, you owe me fifty bucks each.”

“EACH ?”

( bonus )

it’s nearly half an hour later & katsuki isn’t back so you’re starting to get worried. sero and the gang have already left, leaving you to deal with the growing anxiety by yourself. you finally decided to text your boyfriend only to find he’s sent you several messages already:

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[ariichive]

JEALOUSY☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

jealous scenarios ft. phainon, anaxa, and mydei!

gen. neutral reader

cw: anaxa is kinda crazy he puts his gun to reader, possessiveness, mentions of violence, fluff, not proofread im so tired :')

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

phainon

phainon was one to pride himself on his natural charm, he was a very easy going guy. the stark contrast between him in battle and off was admirable.

though as much as he hates to admit it, sometimes the warrior takes over his instincts. for instance, right now as he watched the droma’s caretaker openly flirt with you.

it wasn’t just the flirting—though that was annoying enough—it was the way you laughed, the way your eyes softened, the way you didn’t immediately pull away. phainon knew you weren’t his, not in the way that would justify this sudden surge of possessiveness. but logic had never been good at taming instinct.

his fingers twitched at his side, an old habit from years of battle. the part of him that thrived in combat, the part that didn’t hesitate when faced with a challenge, whispered at him to act. it would be so easy to step in, to slide an arm around your waist, to make it clear to everyone in the room—especially to the man standing too close—that you weren’t available.

but that wasn’t his place. not yet, at least. so instead, he forced himself to take a breath, to unclench his fists, to remind himself that he was phainon—charming, laid-back, not the type to pick a fight over something so trivial.

“phainon, this one likes me!”

his stoic expression softened when he realized, in fact, you were talking about the loving dromas and not that man.

phainon smiled gently at your joy, “i can tell, he sure does like you a lot!”

there was a certain edge to his voice that could’ve been missed by onlookers. you gave him a concerned glance, one which he smiled at and didn’t question further.

and yet, when the caretaker let out another laugh, explaining the most basic knowledge of dromas ever, his hand brushing against yours, phainon found himself smiling again. it wasn’t a friendly smile.

“having fun?” he asked, voice smooth but carrying an edge beneath it as he finally approached the two of you.

“yeah—!” you were quick to respond only to look up at phainon and realize his attention wasn’t on you. “phainon..”

“yes my lovely spouse, who i treasure more than any riches and i’d also kill for?” now his attention was focused on you, his smile bittersweet.

the thing with phainon is whenever he looked at you, there was always such intensity.

“don’t start, i’m okay i promise.”

there was a joking tilt to your voice, but it was enough to calm him down.

“now, come over and feed the dromas with me! this one’s name is castor, very sweet we should take him home!”

phainon let out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "my love, as much as i would adore bringing castor home, i fear he would not fit through our door."

you laughed, reaching out to pet the dromas, who nuzzled into your touch affectionately. "we could make it work," you teased, "build a bigger door, you're strong enough. or, you know, just let him live in our backyard."

phainon hummed in thought, stepping closer until he was right beside you. "tempting," he mused, reaching out to pet castor. "but then i’d have to compete for your affection, and i don’t think my heart could take it."

you rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. "oh, please. you already know you’re my favorite."

his grin softened into something more genuine, his blue eyes filled with something tender. "good. because my dearest, you are mine." phainon swears the dromas narrowed its eyes at him (the caretaker did too but phainon was too busy enjoying the memoment with you to get mad all over again).

you burst into laughter as the dromas let out a soft sound, clearly pleased with itself. "maybe if you were as cute as them, you’d stand a chance."

phainon clutched his chest. "wounded. utterly wounded."

but despite his theatrics, he leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours as you both continued to feed the dromas together, the warmth between you as steady as ever.

...

"y'know, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to take one home, then we wouldn't have to come back here. i can't believe that vile man had the nerve to even look at you..!"

"phainon, my dear, we are not actually going to take one home."

"...i like the name kevin, wouldn't you agree, [name]?"

the rest of the day was spent with phainon in your ear.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

anaxa

the carefully crafted lunched in your hands was the least of your worries as a soft click was heard from behind you followed by a pressure being applied to the back of your head.

just to think; you went out of your way to bring lunch to your oh-so-kind boyfriend and this is how he greets you?

you would say you're surprised but... this isn't the first time something like this has happened.

"do tell me, what's the foul mood for now?"

he didn't appreciate the snarky comment as the gun pushed against your head even more.

"my [name], you seemed to enjoy yourself outside with that man. would i be correct to assume so?"

so this is what he's mad about.

you exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. "if you must know, i was just making conversation. you know, something normal people do?"

the gun pressed harder against your skull in response, the warning clear. anaxa hated being mocked.

"careful," he murmured, voice quieter now, more dangerous. "i'm already being generous by allowing you to explain yourself. do not test my patience."

you tilted your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. his expression was unreadable, but his grip on the gun was steady—too steady.

"allowing me to explain myself?" you echoed, amusement creeping into your tone. "and here i thought my oh-so-loving boyfriend would trust me a little more by now."

anaxa exhaled sharply through his nose, but he said nothing. the silence stretched between you for a few moments before the pressure at the back of your head finally disappeared.

anaxa let out a low hum, his voice smooth yet laced with something sharp—jealousy, possessiveness, something only he could wield so effortlessly. "you know how i feel about you entertaining the company of other men," he said, tilting his head slightly. "and yet, there you were, laughing as if you had no care in the world."

you sigh, "i promise you it was a very brief interaction. i even told him i was visiting you for lunch."

anaxa looked away in faux annoyance as he gently took the lunch from your hands.

"thank you, [name]." anaxa was genuine in his thanks, he understood how troublesome it could be to reach him in the grove of epiphany.

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "i'd say 'you're welcome,' but i'm not sure you deserve it after that stunt."

he sighed dramatically, setting the lunch down on his desk before taking a seat. his movements were as measured as ever, graceful even in something as simple as this. "you wound me, truly," he drawled, undoing the buttons of his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. "but i suppose my cruelty knows no bounds, does it? threatening my beloved over something as insignificant as a passing interaction."

"so you admit it was ridiculous?" you quirked a brow, leaning against the edge of his desk.

anaxa leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you with a gaze so heavy it felt like an unseen weight pressing against you. "i admit nothing," he corrected, voice as smooth as ever. "but even the most brilliant minds are prone to… lapses in judgment."

you let out a small scoff, shaking your head. "right. 'lapses in judgment.' is that what we're calling your absurd jealousy now?"

he exhaled through his nose, as if considering your words, before finally opening the meal you had brought him. "call it whatever you like, my dear," he said idly, plucking a piece of food with deliberate ease. "but tell me, if i were to flirt so freely with another, would you be so composed?"

your mouth opened, but the words died on your tongue. anaxa watched your hesitation with something akin to satisfaction, his smirk deepening ever so slightly.

"i thought as much," he said smoothly, taking a slow, deliberate bite of his food. "jealousy, my dear, is a universal affliction. i am simply more… expressive about mine."

you huffed, looking away, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "you're insufferable and lucky i have the patience for you," you muttered.

he let out a soft chuckle, low and indulgent. "patience," he mused, reaching out to brush a gloved finger against your cheek, slow and deliberate. "such a rare and commendable virtue. though i must wonder..."

his touch trailed lower, tracing the curve of your jaw before finally resting under your chin. with the lightest pressure, he tilted your face ever so slightly upward, forcing you to hold his gaze.

"how much longer will that patience last, i wonder?"

you swallowed, refusing to look away. "depends," you said, barely above a breath. "how many more times do you plan on pulling a gun on me?"

anaxa’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, but his eyes flickered with something softer—something dangerously close to fondness.

"ah," he sighed dramatically, finally releasing you and leaning back into his chair. "a fair question. but, my dear, you wound me. surely you know by now that i only threaten the things i cannot bear to lose?"

you stared at him, feeling both shocked and flustered.

you huffed, shaking your head as you finally relented, letting the conversation settle into something resembling peace. and despite everything—despite his absurd possessiveness, his impossible nature, his maddeningly smug demeanor—you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

because somehow, against all logic, against every ounce of reason—anaxa was yours. and that was something even he, with all his sharp words and sharper wit, could never deny.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

mydei

mydei always found himself in petty competitions with phainon. whether it was who could pick the most apples to who could slay the most enemies, phainon always knew how to push his buttons.

though he might’ve pushed them a little too far..

“afraid you’ll lose? i would’ve never guessed that the great mydeimos was scared of talking to a girl. or are you scared [name] will end up liking me more?”

“deliverer,” mydei said with a scary amount of joy in his voice, “tell me, do you enjoy being humiliated by a kremnoan heir?”

“so is it a deal?”

“if that’s what you wish to call it, we’ll start now. try not to make an utter fool out of yourself. you won't even be able to touch them."

there was absolutely no way mydei was going to even let phainon breathe the same air as you.

phainon grinned, entirely unfazed by mydei’s sharp tone. “oh? possessive already? my, my, what will [name] think of this? surely they've noticed your crush on them by now.”

mydei exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. “they will think nothing of it because you will not get the opportunity to so much as look at them.”

phainon laughed, tilting his head with an almost lazy confidence. “bold words. i wonder if you’ll still be saying that once they’re hanging off my arm instead.”

the barely restrained fury in mydei’s eyes was almost comical. “you delude yourself.”

“and you’re stalling.” phainon shrugged, already turning on his heel. “come now, mydeimos. unless, of course, you are afraid?”

mydei scoffed, stepping forward with an air of unwavering confidence. “i fear nothing—least of all a fool with an overinflated ego.”

the competition had begun.

mydei was the first to find you. he's always remembered the places you often frequented, the bathhouse being common among them.

mydei found you tucked away in one of the quieter corners of the bathhouse, steam curling through the air in delicate wisps. he approached silently, his footsteps barely making a sound against the stone floor.

he had always been observant—perhaps more than you'd realized. no matter how much time passed, he never forgot the places you sought comfort in.

"i thought i'd find you here," he murmured, his voice low and steady, cutting through the gentle trickle of water. "it's peaceful here," you said softly, returning your gaze to the water, watching a rubber duck float by.

after a long moment, you glanced at him, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

"you always find me."

mydei's crimson eyes softened, a rare hint of fondness breaking through his composed exterior.

"of course," he said quietly. "you're worth finding."

mydei had a huge advantage over phainon; everything that came out of his mouth was genuine.

you felt your body heat amplifying from his intense gaze, the steam from the bath worsening your situation.

the air between you two felt thick with unspoken words, the steam in the room only adding to the intensity. mydei’s crimson eyes were locked onto you with an unwavering focus, as if trying to read something deeper than just your expressions.

“you know, you really don’t make this easy,” you muttered, trying to divert your thoughts, the heat rising in your chest feeling like it might burst through your skin.

he raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving yours. "make what easy?"

you shifted uncomfortably, the faintest of blush creeping onto your cheeks. “this... this tension.”

mydei tilted his head slightly, the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. “tension?” he repeated, his voice smooth and calculated. “i’m simply speaking the truth.”

you shot him a glance, his words echoing in your mind. you’re worth finding.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard him say such things before, but this time, it felt different. There was no teasing, no veiled sarcasm—just the raw sincerity that mydei rarely offered.

“you never do anything half-heartedly, do you?” you said, a small sigh escaping your lips.

mydei didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence looming like a silent promise. His gaze softened as he spoke, but there was still a quiet intensity behind it.

"only when it’s worth it," he said, his voice almost a whisper, but it still hit you like a wave.

your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

he moment hung between you two, the weight of his words settling deep within you. mydei’s presence was suffocating in the best way—an intensity that seemed to radiate from him, the kind that made it impossible to think of anything else but him.

you opened your mouth, but the words stuck. something about his steady gaze and the closeness between you left you speechless, your heart thudding in your chest.

“mydei…” you whispered, almost as if testing the air, "would you like to join me in the bath? i'm sue it'll help relieve any sores you might have?"

mydei's gaze flickered to you, and for a brief moment, the quiet intensity in his eyes softened, replaced by a curious, almost amused glint. he took a step closer, the space between you two shrinking even more.

“you offer me company in the bath?” he asked, his voice holding a hint of surprise. “how… bold.”

you could hear the teasing undertone in his words, but it wasn’t as biting as usual. there was something more… tender in the way he spoke, something that made your heart flutter despite the calmness of the moment.

“i only thought it might help you relax,” you replied, keeping your tone light, though your pulse quickened slightly under his steady gaze. “and you’re always so tense. even the crown prince needs to rest now and then.”

mydei let out a quiet chuckle at that, the sound warm and soft, like the fleeting warmth of the bath. "i’m afraid i’ve never had much time for relaxation," he murmured, his tone shifting again, darker, but with an edge of something more vulnerable. "but perhaps you’re right. it’s been... a long time since i allowed myself the luxury."

there was a pause, and you could see the weight of his words settle over him, like he’d just made a decision. his eyes softened, and he took another step closer, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he gently took your hand.

"then, i’ll join you. for once, perhaps i could allow myself this."

as mydei settled comfortably next to you in the bath, he couldn't help but wonder where phainon had been all this time.

and there was a small voice in the back of his head, saying 'if phainon found you first, would you have invited him into the bath with you?'

he glanced sideways at you, his gaze unreadable for a brief moment as he tried to suppress the discomfort he felt at the idea.

as he took in your relaxed face, mydei realized how important such moments were to the two of you. this was just the start of many more scenarios he would spend with you.

if you enjoyed please consider following/liking/reblogging :)

i just love the idea of unhinged anaxa

[deebris]

Save you from yourself

Silco (from Arcane) x Wife reader

Synopsis: The tender moment between you and your daughter, Jinx, is interrupted by your sudden fainting, and Silco takes control of the situation.

Warnings: Fainting, self-neglect, based on real symptoms of dehydration, the reader is a motherly figure for Jinx, and Silco is somewhat possessive in the end, angst with fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

Zaun tonight was surprisingly quiet. For the first time in a long time, you could hear the water flowing through the windows of your room, and a cool breeze carried the scent of your daughter’s freshly washed hair through the corners. It was an incredibly comforting moment to care for her blue locks; it always brought an inexplicable peace to your mind. You really needed it after the exhausting day you had.

The affection that surrounded those moments, with both of you sitting on your bed, gently running your fingers through her strands and laughing at how Jinx always ended up sleepy, warmed your heart. But tonight, that warmth felt strange and discomforting. You tried to ignore a sudden dizziness and the chills, keeping the window open as you brushed through her long hair to continue braiding it. Was tiring work, but you loved.

“Is it going to take much longer?” she asked impatiently, something you had already expected. Complaining about the time was part of Jinx, but you took it with indifference.

“I’m almost halfway,” you tried to reassure her with a gentle, maternal tone, something she liked. “Just this one left.”

“Ugh, I hate when it takes so long,” she grumbled irritably, throwing herself back into your lap. Her movement made your hands lose the strands, messing up part of what you had done.

“Jinx!” you called her name, annoyed, but softened when you felt her cling to you even tighter, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in your belly. Her body started warming yours even more, pushing the cold away, and you stayed silent, appreciating the closeness.

“Can we do it later?” she asked in a low voice, almost needy. Jinx had a thing with physical contact; it was something she appreciated when it came from the right people. That’s why she was now closing her eyes while you stroked her cheek and the side of her head.

“It’s going to be harder to fix,” you tried to argue, struggling with the duality of wanting to stay cuddled with her or return to the hard work of finishing her hair.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, and you couldn’t see, but she furrowed her brow, feeling your body temperature against her pressed cheek.

“I think so,” your whisper came without weight, not caring about the statement. Or maybe you just didn’t have the strength to think properly anymore.

You felt drained, and your daughter had noticed your lack of energy when she took your hand to play with your fingers, interlacing them in a sort of waltz but seeing how you barely reacted to her movements, letting her have fun on her own. And you always used to play along.

“Let me finish,” you asked with much effort, confused by the new sign of your condition that had just emerged: a sharp pain in your forehead. But it wasn’t common for you to get headaches.

Luckily, Jinx obeyed without further rebellion. She stood up to allow you to finish what you had started. She pulled her legs up to her chest on the bed, pouting with a dissatisfied expression while she felt you place the golden pins.

When you had just finished braiding, your fingers fell, sliding down the braid’s length, as if keeping your arms raised for just one more second was extremely difficult. And it was.

Your dizziness worsened, leaving your limbs weak, and now you couldn’t avoid feeling a hint of nervousness as your breathing became irregular, along with the dryness in your throat.

“My love, can you close the window?”

Your request alarmed Jinx, who turned toward your voice but not enough to look directly at you. Hesitant, she stood up, and when she returned, a look of confusion took over her face.

“What...?” The word got stuck as she quickly approached, placing one hand on your back and the other on your shoulder. “What’s going on?” Her desperate tone cut through you like a blade, filling your chest with guilt.

“I... I think I’m not feeling well.” You tried to hold back the tears, but your trembling voice betrayed the effort. Just a few tears fell, as if they had run out, and the pain in your muscles and joints, which had started as a discomfort in the morning, had become unbearable. The discomfort had been easy to ignore before, but now it seemed impossible to divert your attention from it.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the dizziness that had disrupted your day, but sitting for a moment seemed to amplify all the symptoms. Maybe they had always been there, silently growing, until they reached this point.

“Say something!” Jinx’s voice sounded choked, pulling you out of the haze. You tried to open your eyes, but it was hard. She was scared—you could feel it in the way her hands trembled as she held your face. She shook you gently, the urgency clear in every movement. “Don’t close your eyes!” she screamed, her voice breaking as darkness overtook your vision.

When consciousness started to return, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the dimness of the room. A faint light illuminated the room enough for you to realize you were lying down, now wrapped in a blanket. Your hearing seemed muffled, as if you were submerged, but amid the confusing sounds, Silco’s voice emerged.

He was calling for Jinx, trying to calm her. “Jinx, listen,” he repeated, his voice deep and firm, but filled with concern. His tone seemed to seek her attention, trying to contain the emotional storm that was overwhelming the girl. “Jinx, I told you it is fine. It is nothing serious.”

Silco’s deep voice, usually so controlled, was now filled with a disturbance he could barely disguise. As he spoke, he repeated those words mentaly, as if trying to convince not only her but also himself that this was just a temporary illness.

“B-but...” Her voice broke, and the rest of the words got stuck in her throat. Jinx seemed unable to look directly at her father; her eyes nervously scanned the room, searching for an answer where there was none. “She... she just suddenly got like this.”

“Was not sudden, Jinx.” Silco took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “We just did not notice before.” He adjusted his tone, seeking a firmness he didn’t feel, hoping to convey some confidence. “It is common. People get sick all the time. She will be fine.”

He continued, repeating the words like a mantra, silently praying they were true.

“Do you promise?” Jinx’s question came loaded with urgency, almost like an ultimatum.

Silco hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard at the weight of that word. Promising meant more than just reassuring her; it meant banishing any possibility of loss or failure. He knew he couldn’t say “yes” lightly, but he also couldn’t imagine denying that reassurance to his daughter.

His gaze shifted behind him, seeking your figure lying down. When he noticed you trying to sit up, despite visible effort, Silco felt an unexpected relief. It was a sign, even if small, that gave him the strength to respond firmly.

“I promise.” His voice came low but firm, as he squeezed Jinx’s shoulders, trying to convey a security he could barely feel.

Jinx followed her father’s gaze, and upon seeing you move, her behavior shifted instantly. With the frantic energy characteristic of her, she ran to you.

“Calm down!” Silco tried to call to her, but she was already on top of you.

You, however, were lost in confusion. Your mind felt like a blur, and the unbearable weight on your eyelids made it impossible to react or understand what was happening. The last thing you felt was Jinx’s hesitant touch, quickly replaced by the touch of calloused hands, before everything went dark again.

Silco watched as your eyes opened and closed again, what seemed like the thousandth time that night. It was as if you were waging a battle against your own consciousness and body, trying to hold onto reality as it slipped through your fingers.

He hadn’t slept. He had spent the night by your side, patiently waiting for that moment when you would finally wake up for real. Making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with the needle stuck to your wrist, connecting you to the IV that kept your body hydrated, had been an exhausting task. Every time you briefly stirred, it seemed like you were compelled to move your arms, as if testing your own strength, and he found himself forced to intervene.

“I thought you were going to pass out again,” he murmured, his voice low and strangely gentle, something rare coming from him. He carefully placed his hand on your forehead, checking the fever that, to his relief, was starting to subside.

“What do I have?” you asked, the words coming out slowly as your mind pieced together recent memories and adjusted to your surroundings.

Silco let out a long sigh, somewhere between irritation and relief. The corner of his lips curved into a dry smile, as if he found the situation so absurd it was almost comical, yet no less serious.

“You spent the whole day without drinking water.” His voice carried a hint of exasperation and he carefully brushed away the hair that was sticking to your face. “Dehydration. How, for the love of everything, did you not feel thirsty?”

His question was genuine, a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, feeling small and stupid under his analytical gaze.

Silco didn’t say anything more right away. Instead, his eyes studied you for a moment longer than necessary before he leaned back in the chair next to the bed.  

“Whatever the reason, this will not happen again,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying a tone almost possessive as he crossed his arms, as if imposing his will on the universe itself.

“Sorry,” you said, the weakness still evident in your voice, but there was also a trace of embarrassment, making your words almost a whisper.

He watched you in silence, his gaze fixed as you stared at the pillow. Even pale and visibly fragile, you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever known. The soft moonlight illuminated your face, highlighting a few strands of your hair, and in that moment, something inside him softened. The hard expression he always carried melted away, replaced by a rare tranquility—a surrender to the simple relief of seeing you there, breathing.

You saw the IV, something Singed must have done, and noticing it was almost empty, Silco carefully leaned forward to remove the needle. His movements were almost methodical, but there was an uncommon tenderness. His fingers slid lightly over the skin of your wrist before touching the catheter, and that seemingly small gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if, in that touch, he wanted to send you a message: I’m here, and I will be gentle.

“Jinx will be on your case the whole week,” he stated casually, though his tone was firm, as if warning you about your foolishness that caused all this.

You laughed, the weakness in your voice softened by the playful tone. “I can handle it.”

Slowly, you pulled his fingers, as an invitation for him to come closer. Silco accepted without hesitation, climbing onto the bed beside you. He positioned himself behind you, wrapping his body around you in an embrace that, though silent, carried a desperate intensity.

His hands tightened around your waist, the fingers interlacing as if he feared that if let go, you might slip away. The warmth of Silco’s breath brushed against your neck, bringing with it the scent of the cigars he always smoked. On anyone else, or in any other situation, the smell would have been overpowering, almost repulsive, but from him, there was something strangely comforting about it. It was a subtle reminder that, despite everything, he was there—solid, present, and, above all, familiar.

Silco squeezed your waist tighter, his deep voice cutting through the silence, almost a controlled growl as he whispered against your ear:

“Do you really think you will achieve something important if you forget the basics? Forget to drink water, to take care of yourself… That is not just foolishness, it is pure recklessness.”

He held you close, his eyes wandering to a distant point in the room, as if searching for something to focus on, while trying to make you understand the weight of his words. Silco knew you had this habit of putting yourself second, neglecting your own needs for what you thought was more urgent or important.

“Stop putting yourself at risk like this,” he continued, his voice firmer, “or I woll not have any choice but to take care of everything.”

His voice, cold and incisive, sounded almost like an attempt at humor, but you knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t one for jokes. Silco didn’t care for casual remarks, and the lightness in his tone was just a mask for the frustration he felt. You worried so much about not overburdening him that you ended up ignoring your own well-being, making his biggest concern a reality: he would have to carry the weight for you.

“I take care of you… even if I have to save you from yourself,” he whispered, almost like a mantra. The words were both a promise and a necessity. He was speaking to himself, trying to reaffirm his own position, and you didn’t dare interrupt him. You just cuddled closer to his body, feeling the warmth and firmness of his words as a protection that, somehow, also felt like a prison.

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[cumironi]

I CAN F☆CK TREAT YOU BETTER g. satoru

☆ sum. you and gojo were all alone, no geto around, just the two of you— all alone, in the bed, kissing, make out under the glisten of the dim lights, under the blanket.

warning. established relationship au, fem! reader, pet names, nipple-plāy, unprotected sēx, gojo is jealous because you love geto’s broodiness, i need thissssss

there is one thing about you that your two boyfriends never get used to, even though you’ve spent years dating: whenever one of them goes on a mission for a few days and it’s just you with one of them, you become a different person. you’re more clingy, more affectionate, more romantic and sweet, making them fall in love with you all over again.

just like right now, you were laying on your side, face to face with gojo. it was just the two of you for a few days before geto had to leave for a mission, which meant you both had a lot of time to enjoy each other’s company.

the two of you didn’t say anything, just looking into each other's eyes, your cheeks flushed against the soft pillow under the gentle blue light of the moon. the quiet moment wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his gaze held a mix of adoration and curiosity. it was in these moments that you felt the most connected, and the world outside seemed to fade away.

you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek, marveling at the way his expression shifted, softening as he leaned into your touch. “you know, i could get used to this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. gojo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo found himself lost in the depths of your eyes, captivated by their warmth and tenderness. he let out a soft sigh, his fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your arm, relishing the sensation of closeness between the two of you.

he chuckled at your words, his hand moving from your arm to the side of your neck, his thumb tracing soft circles against your jawline. “you get so clingy when it’s just us,” he teased, a playful smirk on his lips. “are you complaining?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes.

“absolutely not,” he replied, his smirk widening as he shifted closer, the tips of both your noses just barely touching. his fingertips grazed the top of your cheekbone, his gaze never leaving yours.

“in fact, i quite like it,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “it’s like i get to see a side of you that’s meant just for me. and that’s a privilege i’m not gonna take for granted.” gojo’s eyes flicked over your face, studying the way the soft moonlight illuminated your features. the two of you were so close that he could see every small detail of your expression, each flutter of your eyelashes, each subtle shift in your expression.

he couldn’t help but be captivated by you, by the way you responded to his touch, by the way you looked at him with such open affection. he leaned in just a little bit closer, his breath fanning across your lips. “you know,” he began, a hint of teasing in his voice, “if suguru was here, i wouldn’t get to have you all to myself,” he finished, his hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of your cheek.

a small, almost possessive smile played at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer still, his forehead touching yours, his nose brushing against yours. “and i’m kinda selfish when it comes to you.”

you chuckle, feigning a pout as you replied teasingly, “well, you know, i can give just as much attention to one of you without the other sulking and pouting about it.” you mutter between your smile. the tip of your index finger poking his dimple.

gojo chuckled at your teasing, his smirk only growing wider. “oh really?” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “you’re telling me you could give us both equal attention without playing favorites?” he leaned into your touch, his dimple indenting a bit more as you poked it. “i’m pretty sure i’ve seen the way your eyes light up whenever suguru walks into a room. you’d always choose him over me.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, scrunching your nose playfully at his accusation. your fingers danced lightly over his chest, tickling him just faintly as you replied, “it’s not my fault that suguru is so dreamy and handsome and soft!” you flashed him a teasing grin, enjoying the way his expression shifted, a mix of amusement and mock jealousy. “i mean, can you blame me? he has that whole brooding look down to a science,” you added with a dramatic sigh.

gojo let out a mock gasp, pretending to be offended. “oh, so that’s how it is? you like geto more because he’s brooding and brooding is attractive?” he feigned a pout for a moment before his smirk returned, his hand moving down from your neck to rest on your hip, his fingers drumming against the skin. “well, you know what? i can brood too, you know. i can be serious and intense.” he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping another octave. “can geto do this?”

and before you could respond, gojo’s lips were on yours in a searing kiss. it was a possessive kiss, his hand gripping your hip tighter as his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, seeking entrance. he pressed into you, his body almost fully on top of yours as he deepened the kiss, his free hand finding its way into your hair, tangling among the strands.

he broke the kiss, but only to kiss down the side of your jaw and down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. he sucked on your pulse point, his teeth grazing against it, his hand on your hip moving up your side to lightly brush against the underside of your breast.

gojo’s fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of your jawline as he pulls away, his touch sending shivers down your spine. he shift back onto his sides before continued to gaze at you with an intense, brooding look, his eyes locked onto yours.

“i can brood just as well as he can,” he said again, his voice still soft. “maybe even better. i just choose not to, because i think it’s more fun to make you laugh.” he leaned in even closer, his nose brushing against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “so, have i won you over yet? am i brooding enough for you?” a warm smile coloring his handsome face.

you couldn’t help but giggle at his faux broodiness, your heart fluttering at the way he was trying so hard to be serious and sexy.

you reached up a hand, cupping his cheek as you studied his expression, his sharp features framed by the moonlight. “oh, definitely,” you replied, your tone playful and lighthearted. “i don’t think i can handle that brooding stare of yours. it’s just too intense.” you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, your thumb caressing the high line of his cheekbone.

“but,” you added, a sly smirk playing at your lips, “i might need a little more convincing. just to be sure.” your hand moves down from gojo’s cheek to his chest, your fingers brushing against the firm muscle hidden beneath his shirt. your touch is light, teasing, your fingertips tracing circles over his pecks.

“you know,” you continued, your voice lower now, “i think you’re being a bit too clothed for this little demonstration.” you glanced down, noting the way his shirt was still very much on, preventing you from fully appreciating his toned physique.

gojo’s eyes darkened at your words, a smirk tugging at his lips. “too clothed, huh?” he repeated, his hands immediately going to the hem of his shirt. he pulled it off in a swift, fluid motion, flinging it carelessly onto the floor. the moonlight illuminated the planes of his chest and abdomen, his muscles flexing under your gaze.

your eyes roamed shamelessly over the expanse of his bare torso, taking in the dips and curves of his muscles. it wasn’t the first time you’d seen him naked, not by a long shot, but the sight of him like this always seemed to make your heart race. you reached out, your hand tracing a slow, languid path down his chest and stomach, following the sculpted ridges that disappeared beneath the waistband of his joggers.

gojo chuckled, the sound deep and rich in his throat. “you like what you see, huh?” he teased, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pinning your hand to his chest. he shifted closer to you, his breath warm against your neck. “well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “i think you’re being a bit too clothed as well.”

a shiver ran down your spine as gojo’s breath ghosted over your neck, his words sending a spark of anticipation through your body. you tilted your head, exposing more of your skin to his teasing touch, your eyes fluttering shut as you relished in the feeling of his lips grazing against your ear.

“oh, am i?” you replied, your tone lilting with playful coyness. “i suppose you’ll have to do something about that then.” gojo smirked, taking the hint as he slowly pushed you back onto the bed, his body caging you in as he leaned over you.

his hands were everywhere, skating over your arms and your sides, skimming over the edges of your clothes, fingers tracing over every curve. he reached your shirt, his fingers catching on the hem. he tugged at it, pulling it up over your stomach and ribcage, revealing more and more of your skin.

he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, his mouth warm and soft against your skin. he moved lower, his hands sliding the rest of your shirt up and over your head, casting it to the side. his mouth followed, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the slope of your breast, his teeth grazing over the fabric of your bra. he reached around your back, his fingers hooking into the hooks of your bra. dextrous fingers nimbly work to undo the fastening.

as gojo’s mouth and tongue lavished your body, his hands worked to free you from the confines of your bra. you arched your back, your breath coming in soft gasps, your body responding to his every touch. he was gentle but insistent, his fingers moving with practiced ease, like he had been doing this for years. he took his time, but not too much time, his hands slipping the straps off your arms.

gojo’s mouth was on your skin again, his lips and tongue exploring the newly exposed flesh of your chest and stomach. he moved lower, planting soft kisses along your stomach, each touch sending shivers of desire down your spine. his hands skimmed over the curve of your hips, his fingers hooking into the edges of your pants, his mouth still moving over your skin, his teeth lightly nipping and biting at the sensitive spots he knew drives you crazy.

one by one, he undid the buttons and zipper of your pants, his hands slipping them down over your hips, taking your panties down with them. they were tossed onto the floor without a thought, his hands quickly moving back up your legs, his touch light and teasing, dancing just shy of where you wanted them to be.

gojo’s hands glided over your legs, his touch a tantalizing combination of feather-light and firm. he was taking his time, prolonging the anticipation, his lips moving back up your body, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses all the way up to your neck. his body was almost flush against yours, his arms bracketing your head, his weight bearing down just enough to keep you trapped under him.

you push yourself in your elbows, pushing gojo’s head away to meet his lips. your hand runs around his chest to his nape, brushing your fingers to his undercut. the kiss was slow, deliberate, no lust or hunger like you pour all of your love for him.

as your lips meet in a slow, loving kiss, gojo melts into it, his tongue sliding between your lips to deepen the contact. he lets out a soft moan, the sound muffled by your mouth, his hand moving to cup the side of your jaw, his fingertips tracing gentle circles against your skin.

he tilts his head, his nose brushing against yours, his body pressing closer, his chest flush against yours. there’s a tenderness in the way he’s kissing you, an affectionate adoration that pours out from every fiber of his being.

gojo breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his eyes soft and sparkling in the dim moonlight. he traces his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek, his touch gentle and almost reverent. “you know,” he says, his voice quieter now, a hint of teasing still present in his tone, “you didn’t let me finish my demonstration.”

you chuckle, scrunching your nose out of a habit while you let your hand caressing his neck to his bare chest. “forget the demonstration, let’s just cuddle,” you murmur, “a naked one,” you added before giggling. gojo chuckled at your response, the sound deep and rich in his throat, his eyes sparkling with affection and amusement. he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his side, pulling you close against him, your body molding against his.

his arms encircled you, pulling you tight against his chest, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your back. “i suppose a naked cuddle is an acceptable alternative,” he teased, his voice low and affectionate. he nuzzled against your hair, burying his face in your neck. “you’re such a distraction, you know.”

you shook your head with a soft chuckle, gently pushing gojo’s face away from your neck. “i wanna see your face,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you held his gaze. your hand rested against his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin as you smiled warmly at him. “wanna see my boyfriend,” you said softly, taking in his face, appreciating the quiet intimacy.

gojo’s heart swelled at your words, a soft, almost shy smile spreading across his face. he leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression softening with each caress of your thumb against his skin.

“you’re such a sap,” he teased, his voice dripping with affection. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you even tighter against him, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “i’m right here,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours. “right where you want me to be.”

you hummed softly, the sound barely audible as the two of you lay there, lost in each other’s gaze. the room was filled with a quiet, intimate stillness, your cheek flushed against the soft pillow, while gojo’s warm presence enveloped you completely.

gojo’s fingers traced patterns on your back as the two of you lay together, his eyes lazily tracing the contours of your face, his fingers dancing over the dip of your waist before moving up to trace your jawline. there was no rush, no urgency, just the slow, languid movement of his hands against your skin, the quiet rhythm of your breathing filling the room. he leaned in slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “you have no idea how much i love these moments with you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

you hummed softly again, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you as gojo shifted slightly, settling onto his side to mirror your position. his cheek pressed into the pillow, and his bright blue eyes stayed fixed on yours, filled with that familiar mix of affection and playfulness.

your fingertips gently tugged a few strands of his hair behind his ear, then trailed across his scalp, eliciting a quiet sigh from him. your voice was barely audible as you murmured, “i love your eyes,” your thumb softly brushing over his temple.

a soft smile tugged at the corners of gojo’s lips as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. he nuzzled against your hand, his cheek pressing firmly against your palm, his expression relaxing further. “do you now?” he replied, his tone lilting with teasing. “what is it about them that you love so much?” his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours once again, a sparkle of mischief in their depths.

you hummed in confirmation, your voice gentle as your fingertips continued to glide softly over his scalp. “it’s beautiful,” you whispered, your tone sincere. “like i’m looking at the open sky, like i’m drowning in a warm ocean. it’s warm… it’s like summer.”

your words left gojo momentarily stunned. his usually confident, playful demeanor faltered as he stared at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. nobody had ever told him they loved his eyes, not for anything other than the immense power they held. but here you were, speaking so simply, so earnestly, about them.

gojo was silent for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the honesty and vulnerability in your words, his mind struggling to process the raw emotion in your voice.

he exhaled slowly, a soft, shaky breath slipping past his lips. no one had ever described his eyes like that before. to everyone else, they were a tool, a symbol of power, a weapon. but to you, they were something beautiful, something warm and comforting. he reached up, his hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path over your lips.

“you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a mix of awe and tenderness. he shifted closer to you, his chest pressing against yours, his leg slipping between yours. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him, burying his face in your neck. “you always say the most unexpected things,” he continued, his lips skimming against your skin, his breath hot and warm against your collarbone. “and you always leave me speechless.”

you gently pushed him away, just enough to create a bit of space between you, your fingers lightly pressing against his chest. “no, no, no,” you murmured, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “come on, don’t do that. i wanna see you.”

your eyes searched his, wanting to keep that connection, to see the emotion that flickered across his face whenever you said something unexpected. your fingers found their way back to his jawline, tracing the contours of his face as you gave him a small, playful smile. “i don’t like it when you hide,” you added softly, your thumb grazing over his bottom lip.

as you gently pushed him back and your fingers traced his jawline, gojo chuckled softly, his smile a mix of amusement and affection. he leaned back just enough to let you see his face, his eyes tracing over every feature, drinking you in.

your words linger in his ears, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. “i wasn’t hiding,” he protested, his tone lighthearted. “i was snuggling.” he couldn’t help but smile at your playfulness, his hand moving to caress your side, his fingers skating over the curve of your hip.

“you just make it so difficult to not bury my face in your neck,” he continued, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “every time you say things like that, it sets my heart racing, and all i want to do is get closer, closer, closer.”

he pulled you flush against him, his body molding to yours, his arms wrapping around you like a tight embrace. he buried his head in the crook of your neck again, pressing his lips against your skin, inhaling your scent.

you groaned softly in protest, your hands coming up to gently push at his chest again. “oh, come on,” you whined playfully, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. “i said i want to see your face, not have you hide in my neck.”

gojo chuckled again, the sound muffled against your neck as he buried his face deeper into the crook. he knew he was being petulant and stubborn, but he couldn’t help it. he loved being close to you, the feeling of your body against his, your scent filling his lungs. “but it’s so comfortable here,” he protested, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “and you smell so good. and you’re so warm.”

you tried to tilt his head up, your fingers threading through his hair, but gojo only chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “just a little longer,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, clearly enjoying how much you were trying to pull him away.

gojo was clearly enjoying your struggle, his arms unyielding as he held onto you with a smirk on his face. he nuzzled against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “just a little longer,” he repeated, his voice filled with faux innocence. “i’m not tired yet. and you'’e so warm and soft, it would be wasteful to not take advantage of it.”

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he was lying halfway on top of you, his body completely covering yours, his weight pushing you down into the softness of the bed. “besides,” he murmured, his lips skimming over your jawline. “i think you secretly like having me pressed against you like this.”

you groaned, feigning annoyance, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, pulling him closer. “don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, your lips brushing against his ear, though the smile on your face betrayed your playful mood. as you glanced down at his bare form, your eyes caught sight of his rear, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. without thinking, your hands slid down his back, and before he could react, you grabbed a handful of his cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze.

gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth at your unexpected squeeze. he let out a yelp, the sound a mix of surprise and mild outrage. “hey!” he protested, lifting his head and looking down at you with amused indignation. “warn a guy next time!” he exclaimed through a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he shifted slightly, his body moving into a more comfortable position atop yours, a playful smirk spreading across his lips.

you burst into laughter, unable to contain your amusement. “it’s not my fault!” you teased, still chuckling. “it was just there, looking at me.” you punctuated your words with another playful taps on his rear, the sound light but cheeky.

gojo rolled his eyes, a mix of mock annoyance and amusement in his expression. he propped himself up on his arms, a sly smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. “oh, so it’s my fault for having a perfectly shaped backside?” he teased, arching an eyebrow, his arms caging you in. “i think you’re just trying to cop a feel whenever you get the chance.”

you raised your eyebrows, a playful smirk on your face. “perfect?” you echoed, giving his ass another teasing squeeze. “more like flat! if i squeeze it, it feels like a bag of airbags!”you couldn’t help but laugh at the look of mock horror that crossed his face, and you leaned back against the pillows, clearly enjoying this banter. “seriously, baby, you need to work on that if you want to maintain your ‘perfect’ reputation!”

gojo’s eyes widened comically, his brows shooting up to his forehead. “airbags?!”he sputtered, his tone incredulous. “my ass is not bags of airbags, it's firm and toned and well-defined!” he feigned offense, a dramatic pout crossing his face as he pretended to be deeply wounded by your insult. “do you know how many squats i do? how many leg days i put in? this is an insult to my hard work and dedication!”

he leaned back, lifting his hips up so you could see the full expanse of his rear. “look at it! look at the muscle tone, the symmetry, the perfection,” he exclaimed, gesturing broadly. his tone was laced with playful sarcasm, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced down at you. “surely you’re not blind. you must see how flawlessly sculpted it is.”

you hummed thoughtfully as you looked at his rear, pretending to admire it. then, with a swift motion, you gave him a playful spank, laughing as you looked up at him. “yeah, flatass!” you teased, your voice light and filled with mischief.

gojo let out another exaggerated gasp, the sound filled with fake shock and indignation. he placed a hand over his heart, his expression one of mock hurt. “flatass?!” he exclaimed, feigning disbelief. “after all the hard work i put into sculpting this masterpiece? you wound me, babe. you truly wound me.” he leaned back down, his chest pressing against yours again, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll have you know, my behind is a work of art. a masterpiece of the human form.”

he leaned down, bringing his face close to yours, his expression still one of mock outrage, though his eyes sparkled with mirth. “i think you need to show me some appreciation, apologize for that baseless disparagement of my very well-maintained behind,” he teased, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“baseless disparagement!?” gojo repeated, a hint of indignation in his voice. “i’ve never seen a more shameless display of disrespect. my backside deserves respect and admiration. and you, dear one, owe me payment for the slander you have inflicted upon it.”

he leaned down even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his eyes darkened with desire. “and i demand a proper apology. a thorough, passionate one.” your heartbeat quickened at the low rumble of his voice, a shiver running down your spine as he hovered over you. his proximity and the way his eyes sparkled with mischief made it hard to resist.

“oh, is that so?” you replied, feigning mock ignorance. “and how exactly do you want me to express this appreciation? a kiss? a squeeze? too bad suguru wasn’t here to back me up.”

gojo chuckled, his eyes filled with laughter as he shifted slightly, his body pressing even closer to yours. ���now now, no bringing up my best friend while we’re having an intimate moment. that's cheating.” he leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “i think a sincere apology, one that involves your hands expressing their remorse, would suffice. and perhaps a few kisses, just to drive the point home, naturally.”

you raised your eyebrows, a playful smirk on your lips as you murmured, “yeah?” your fingers trailed slowly down his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. you reach lower, brushing your fingers to his happy trails and feeling his hardness pressing against your thigh.

you leaned in closer, your voice teasingly soft. “and what exactly do you want from me, oh great master of the flat ass?” your hand continued to explore, relishing the way his body reacted to your touch, eager to see how far you'd push this playful moment.

gojo chuckled again, his breath hot against your neck as he felt your fingers trailing down his chest, his body responding to your touch instinctively. he shifted slightly, arching his back as your fingers moved lower, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he felt your touch on his happy trail.

he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear again, his voice a deep, rumbling murmur. “i want you to show your appreciation, darling. show me just how much you admire this apparent ’flat ass’ of mine.”

you murmured softly in his ear, your breath warm against his skin, “oh, i can definitely do that.” your lips brushed lightly against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

with a sly smile, you pulled the cover over the both of you, wrapping yourselves in the warmth of the blanket. gojo chuckled, his grin widening as he realized your playful intent. “hiding, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as the blanket enveloped your naked both, creating a cozy cocoon around your entwined bodies. “i like where this is going.”

gojo’s heart raced as the blanket enveloped you both, his body instantly warmed by the close proximity of yours. he could feel your skin against his, your breath on his neck, the playful anticipation thrumming through his veins. he chuckled again, his smile matching your own as his hands roamed, exploring the curves of your body beneath the cover. “i can see where this is headed, naughty girl,” he teased, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.

he leaned in, his lips finding your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin there. his hands continued to roam, his touch a tantalizing mixture of firm and gentle as they explored your body with a possessive quality.

he shifted his position slightly, his body settling between your legs, his weight pressing against you as he hovered above you, the cover hiding your bodies from view. “you sure know how to play dirty,” he murmured, his voice filled with mischief and desire.

your arms wrapped around his broad shoulder, pulling him impossibly close to your naked body, his body curling around yours. a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, his chest brushing against yours.

“hiding? me? never.” you teased, his voice filled with amusement as you let out a soft moan. “just creating a little private sanctuary for us, away from the judgmental eyes of the world." you leaned in, breathe warmly against his shoulder, your teeth gently nipping at his shoulder. “just the two of us and this cozy blanket cocoon. just the two of us, no suguru. us.”

gojo grinned, his teeth nipping back at your shoulder, a playful growl escaping his throat. “a private sanctuary, hm?” he mused, his voice low and sultry as his hands slid down to grip your hips, pulling you closer into his embrace. “well then, i suppose we should make the most of our privacy.”

his lips trailed lower, kissing along your collarbone before planting a series of kisses across your chest, each one landing with more pressure than the last. he suckled gently on your nipple, teasing the hardened peak with his tongue, his hands still holding onto your hips firmly. “and don’t worry about suguru,” he whispered huskily, his voice vibrating against your skin. “i promise not to tell.”

the sensation of gojo’s mouth on your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your toes curl underneath the covers. a soft gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back onto the pillow as he lavished attention on your breasts.

“mmm...” you hummed, arching your back slightly, pushing your chest further into his mouth. “that’s exactly what i was hoping for.” your hands moved down to his waist, slipping under the covers to explore the contours of his strong, toned body. your fingers traced the lines of muscle, feeling the ridges and dips of his abdomen, before eventually reaching lower, towards his throbbing member.

gojo’s eyes darkened with lust as he felt your fingers trail down his stomach, inching closer to his aching erection. a low groan rumbled in his chest, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your touch.

“careful now, naughty girl,” he warned, his voice thick with desire. “you’re playing with fire.” despite his words, he didn't stop you, instead, guiding your hand to wrap around his hard length, his breath hitching as your fingers closed around him.

he began to move, thrusting into your grip as he continued to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between sucking and biting the tender flesh. his free hand slid down to join yours, helping to pump himself in time with your strokes. “fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger and need.

the sound of his voice, laced with desire, sent another wave of heat rushing through your body. your grip tightened around his cock, stroking him slowly, deliberately, wanting to draw out every moan and gasp from his lips.

“you’re so hard...” you purred, leaning up to capture his lips in a searing kiss. your tongue danced with his, the taste of him filling your senses. you broke the kiss, panting heavily, your cheeks flushed with arousal. your eyes lock with his blue eyes, glow slightly under the cover.

gojo’s eyes glowed faintly beneath the cover, a sign of his growing excitement. his breathing became heavier, his muscles tensing as your skilled hand worked his shaft. he kissed you back fiercely, his tongue dominating yours, claiming your mouth as his own.

“hard for you,” he breathed when the kiss broke, his voice rough with need. “always so fucking hard for you.” he pushed your hand away suddenly, pinning both of your wrists above your head with one large hand. he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock nudging your slick folds. “tell me you want it,” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

your breath hitched as he positioned himself at your entrance, your body quivering with anticipation. you arched your hips upwards, seeking more contact, craving the feel of him inside you.

“i want it,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, “i want you, baby. i want you, slow and gentle, i want to savor you, making love to me.”

your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him closer, silently begging him to fill you completely. your fingers curled into the sheets above you, your nails digging into the fabric as you waited for him to take you, to claim you as his own. your eyes bored into his, reflecting the same intense hunger that burned within them. your hand cupping his cheek gently, full of adoration and tenderness.

gojo’s expression softened at your words, his eyes shining with a mix of love and desire. he leaned into your touch, pressing a tender kiss to your palm before releasing your wrists and settling his weight on top of you.

“slow and gentle,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “anything for you, my love.” he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss as he slowly pushed forward, sheathing himself inside you inch by delicious inch. a low groan tore from his throat at the feeling of your tight warmth enveloping him, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

when he opened them again, they were filled with adoration and devotion, mirroring the emotions swirling in your own gaze. he began to move, his thrusts measured and controlled, taking his time to savor every moment of your union.

the sensation of being filled by him, slowly and deeply, was overwhelming. your body trembled with pleasure, your inner walls clenching around his cock as he moved within you.

“baby..” you whimpered, your head thrown back in ecstasy. your hands roamed over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the ripple and flex beneath your fingertips. each stroke, each movement, brought you closer to the edge. you could see the love in his eyes, the care and concern reflected there, even amidst the lust and desire. it made your heart swell, made you love him even more.

“don’t stop...” you pleaded, your voice ragged with need, forehead pressed against his.

gojo’s pace remained steady, his movements deliberate and sensual, driven by the desperation to please you. he reveled in the way your body responded to him, the way you clung to him, the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

“never, my love,” he vowed, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust. “i’ll never stop loving you, never stop wanting you.”

he captured your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and pleas as he continued to make slow, passionate love to you. his free hand found its way to your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple between his fingers, adding an extra layer of stimulation to the already intense sensations.

the dual sensations of his cock moving inside you and his fingers teasing your nipples had you teetering on the brink of climax but not quite yet. your moans grew ragged, more urgent, your hips rising to meet his thrusts as you chased the impending orgasm but you try to hold yourself, wanting the moment last longer.

“i love you, satoru,” you cried out, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. your nails dug into his back, marking him as your own.

the air was thick from the lack of oxygen, filled with breathless moan, whimper and whining. it was quite dark, only the light illuminating from a slight gap. the two of you couldn’t stop whispering sweet nothing into each other’s ear.

“my love...” he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. “my beautiful, perfect love...” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

gojo’s grip on your breast tightened as he felt your body begin to tense, signaling your approaching climax. he increased the pressure on your sensitive nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. “i love you too, my beautiful girl,” he growled, his voice husky with desire.

“keep it slow, baby, want it slow, let me hold you for a moment,” you whisper, nose nuzzling against his sweaty cheek. your arm wraps around his broad shoulder while your other hand holds his bicep.

gojo’s movements slowed even further, becoming almost languid as he savored the intimate moment with you. he rested his forehead against yours, their noses touching, sharing ragged breaths.

“forever, my love,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. “i’ll hold you forever if that’s what you want.” his hand slid down to cradle your hip, pulling you impossibly closer, their bodies melding together in a perfect fusion of flesh and soul.

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his words and the sheer intensity of the connection between you. you nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

in this quiet, suspended moment, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it side by side, hand in hand, hearts entwined. the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the beauty and power of your love.

gojo brushed away the tears that escaped, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes. “my beautiful, tearful angel,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. “you're everything to me, now and always.”

he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a tender, loving kiss, pouring all his devotion and adoration into the gentle press of his lips against yours. in this perfect, peaceful instant, wrapped in each other’s arms, you both knew that your bond was unbreakable, a love that would endure through eternity.

your lips moved softly against his, returning the tender kiss with equal affection. your fingers intertwined with his, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go. a sense of contentment washed over you, filling you with warmth and happiness. you felt safe, loved, cherished— exactly where you belonged. “love you, satoru,” you murmured against his mouth, the words barely audible over the pounding of your hearts. “forever and always.”

your tears dried up, replaced by a warm, radiant smile. your lips parted under his, welcoming the soft, affectionate kiss. you ran your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, holding him close. “i’m yours, completely,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with so much love and commitment. your heart is beating faster, matching with his cock throbbing inside you.

gojo’s heart swelled with love and gratitude at your declaration, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “and i’m yours, my darling,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “for all eternity.”

he returned your kiss with renewed passion, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring every inch of your warmth. his free hand roamed over your curves, mapping the contours of your body as if committing them to memory. “mine,” he growled possessively, his teeth grazing your lower lip. “all mine, now and forever.”

his hips began to move again, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency as the need for release became too great to ignore. he set a relentless pace, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes, determined to bring you both to the heights of ecstasy once more.

your body arched off the bed, responding eagerly to his movements. your nails dug into his back, leaving marks of ownership as you clung to him. the pleasure was building within you, coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

“i’m yours,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desire, “yours... —keep moving like that baby, my boy..” you moan, skating your fingers to his nape and putting a pressure there with your fingers.

the room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, mixed with your cries of pleasure and gojo’s guttural groans. your breasts bounced rhythmically with each of his thrusts, nipples hardening even further under his touch.

“that’s it, my love,” gojo panted, his voice strained with exertion and pleasure. “take all of me, every inch.” he could feel your walls fluttering around his shaft, signaling your impending climax. he redoubled his efforts, angling his hips to hit that special spot deep inside you with each thrust, determined to send you hurtling over the edge.

“come for me, my beautiful girl,” he urged, his breath hot against your ear. “let go, i’ve got you.”

one hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. the added stimulation proved to be your undoing, and with a keening cry, you came undone beneath him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

your vision went white as the pleasure crashed over you, wave after wave of pure bliss radiating from your core. you screamed his name, your voice raw and hoarse, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

“satoru! baby, fuuuck!” you groan, feeling your inner walls clench around his hard cock. your whole body trembled and shook, overcome by the intense sensations coursing through you. you felt gojo’s cock twitch inside you, growing even harder as your walls contracted around him. you knew he was close, teetering on the brink of his own release. “cum for me baby, let me feel your love.”

gojo grunted, his hips jerking as he felt your walls clamping down on him. “fuck, that’s it,” he gasped, his body shuddering with the effort of holding back. his grip tightened on your hips, digging his fingers into your flesh as he pistoned in and out of you. he could feel his climax approaching, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to sweep him away.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,“ he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “i’m gonna fill you up, my sweet girl. take all of me.”

you moaned loudly as gojo’s cock throbbed inside you, his hot cum filling you up. you clenched your muscles around his cock, milking him for everything he had. your body was still trembling from your own orgasm, but you managed to keep yourself upright as gojo emptied himself inside you. “so good... so fucking good.”

gojo collapsed onto you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. “damn, you’re incredible,” he muttered, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. he held you close, his large frame wrapping protectively around you like a cocoon. “i love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of affection.

he stayed buried inside you, not yet ready to separate their joined forms. the afterglow of their lovemaking enveloped them, making the room seem warmer, softer. you cuddled closer to gojo, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasms. you felt satisfied, complete, in a way that nothing else could give you.

“i love you too, satoru,” you murmured, your voice just as soft as his. “more than anything else.” you felt gojo's seed starting to leak out of you, trickling down your thighs and the bed below.

you pull the blanket off you both and take a deep breath, “finally, i can breath.”

gojo chuckled as you finally pulled back the cover, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, his arms wrapped around your waist. “you were getting all hot and bothered under there, weren’t you, my little sauna?” he teased, a playful grin on his face.

he glanced down, his eyes tracing the path of his seed leaking out of you, and he couldn't help a soft sigh escaped him. “damn, that’s a sight,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction. he leaned down, his lips gently brushing against your neck, his hands caressing your skin. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice laced with affection. “so damn perfect.”

you chuckle, frowning a little with his choice of nickname. “my little sauna? what an odd nickname you’ve got there,“ you tease, voice light and full of amusement. your sweaty arms find gojo’s broad shoulder and draw him closer, skin-to-skin with your chest.

gojo chuckled at your comment, enjoying the lighthearted banter between you two. “hey, i think it's a good nickname,” he retorted, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “it suits you, what with all that heat and wetness you generate.”

he let you pull him closer, relishing the feel of your skin against his, the sweat making your bodies slick and sticky. his arms encircled your waist, holding you close as he settled against you, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, his breath warm against your skin.

“mmm, you smell good,” he murmured, his nose buried in your hair. you hummed softly at his comment, a teasing smile spreading across your face. “that’s just the smell of sex,” you replied playfully, your voice laced with mischief.

gojo chuckled again, his lips curving into a boyish grin as he nuzzled your hair. “well, i’m not complaining,” he responded, his voice low and suggestive.

he shifted his position slightly, his body shifting closer to yours as he continued to hold you close. his hand moved to the small of your back, gently tracing small circles with his fingertips. “and i think you smell even better than usual,” he murmured, his lips finding their way to your neck again, his tongue tracing a path down your throat.

you pushed gojo’s face away from your neck, turning to lay face to face with him. your hands cupped his cheeks, your gaze steady and sincere as you looked into his eyes.

“but i love the sex, it feels good, slow and gentle,” you confessed softly, a warm smile gracing your lips. your thumb leaving stars on his blushing cheeks, “i love feeling your skin on mine. it's different from the sex we used to have. just you and me, no suguru, just us. it’s such a nice feeling.”

gojo’s expression softened as he looked into your eyes, his own filling with tenderness. he reached up to hold your hands, keeping them against his cheeks. “yeah, it is,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. “it’s different, more intimate, more...real. it’s just us, no distractions, no one else but us. and i love it too. love feeling you close, feeling our bodies touch, feeling completely connected to you.“

he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching yours. “being with you like this, it’s like coming home.”

he paused for a moment, taking in the feel of your skin against his, the warmth of your touch. “you know, this is my favorite part,” he confessed quietly.

he shifted his position slightly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you even closer. “after we finish, just lying here, holding you, feeling your skin on mine. it’s like...i don’t know, like being in another world or something.” he traced gentle circles on your skin with his fingertips, his touch light and comforting.

you hummed softly, still smiling at his words. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice warm. “it's not that i don't enjoy our time together as three, because i really do. but sometimes, having a moment just with one of you feels completely different.”

you paused, glancing at him mischievously, decided to ruin the moment, “but, you know, i can't wait for you to go on a mission so i can have more time like this with suguru.”

spending time with one of them feels uniquely special compared to the moments you share as a trio. when it’s just the two of you, there’s an intimacy that wraps around you like a warm blanket—every shared glance and touch deepens your connection in ways that sometimes get lost in the dynamic of three. it’s in those quiet moments, just you and him, where you can truly let your guard down and fully be yourselves.

it’s not that you don’t enjoy the moments with all three of you; they’re filled with laughter, camaraderie, and shared adventures. but there’s something profoundly satisfying about having one-on-one time. you can dive into deeper conversations, explore vulnerabilities, and create an atmosphere where you both feel entirely seen and cherished.

you know they understand this need for balance, too, even without words. the subtle way they look at you when it’s just the two of you speaks volumes, a silent acknowledgment of this shared desire for deeper connection. it's these moments that make your bond stronger, allowing each of you to appreciate the unique qualities the other brings to the relationship.

gojo chuckled at your playful remark about suguru, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“oh, so that’s how it is, eh?” he retorted, feigning mock offense. “you’re eager to kick me out on a mission so you can have more alone time with my dearest friend.” he squeezed your hips possessively, his grip firm and possessive. “maybe i’ll deliberately drag my feet on my next assignment then.”

he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered in a low, teasing tone. “can’t have you spending too much quality time with suguru, now can i? i need to maintain my status as the favorite, after all.” he nibbled at your earlobe gently, his teeth grazing your skin. “i can’t have him stealing your heart, sweetheart. i’ll have to make sure you don’t forget about me.“

you let out a soft laugh, feigning a dramatic gasp as you pulled back slightly to look into gojo’s eyes. “oh please, suguru already stole my heart ages ago,” you teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

“but don’t worry,” you added with a wink, “there’s plenty of room for two favorites. besides, you know my heart has a soft spot just for you, too.” you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger for a moment before pulling away, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “but you’ll have to work a little harder to keep that title, won’t you?”

gojo chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of playful challenge and affection. he wrapped his arms more firmly around your waist, pulling you against him.

“oh, i know you’re just trying to rile me up, you little tease,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mock annoyance. “but i’m not gonna let suguru steal you away that easily. you’re mine, remember?” he tilted your chin up, his thumb tracing along your jawline, his blue eyes holding yours captured. “i’ll do whatever it takes to keep that title, you bet your sweet ass i will.”

“oh you do, do you?”

gojo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh, absolutely,” he confirmed, his voice laced with confidence. “i’ll show you just how serious i am about keeping my title, my little sweet heart.”

he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “i’ll work extra hard to make sure you never even think about suguru while we’re together. all your attention will be on me, and me alone. you won’t even have a chance to miss him.”

gojo’s hands roamed over your skin, his touch possessive as he pulled you even closer, their bodies touching just about everywhere.

“i’ll make sure you'l’re so enthralled by me, so completely captivated, that you won’t even remember what your dear other boyfriend looks like,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against your ear. “you’ll be too busy relishing in the feeling of my touch, the sound of my voice, the heat of my body.”

[solxamber]

Holding Them and Not Letting Go with: Housewardens + Jamil

a little something before i go all in for the milestone events <3

Other parts: Vice Housewardens + Rollo, Neige ; First Years

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle goes bright red the second you wrap your arms around him, stiffening in your hold like he’s forgotten how to breathe. He tries to splutter something coherent—maybe a reminder about PDA rules, maybe a request to know what’s going on—but his voice gets tangled up, and all that comes out is a confused murmur.

You don’t let go, though. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, prompting him to look down at you, his eyes widening with soft confusion. “Is… Is something wrong?” he stammers, gently pressing his hand to your shoulder, trying to read your face.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you answer with a warm smile. “I just love you, Riddle. That’s all.”

For a moment, he’s frozen. Just love him? He feels his heart stumble, so unfamiliar with this kind of simple, generous affection. In his childhood, hugs were formal gestures, love was measured and conditional—a reward to be earned, rarely felt freely. But here, with you… you’re holding him because you want to, with nothing expected in return.

Slowly, Riddle’s hands find their way to your back, and he pulls you close with a tenderness that surprises even him. There’s a quiet ache in his chest, an overwhelming mix of joy and disbelief, like he’s filling up with something he never knew he was missing. He clings to you, unable to speak, as though afraid that words might shatter the beautiful warmth settling between you.

You both stay like this, tangled together in silence. In this simple embrace, Riddle feels more seen, more loved, than he ever has before. It’s a feeling he wants to hold onto forever—a happiness he never thought he’d be allowed to have. For the first time, he feels completely at peace.

Leona Kingscholar

You wrap your arms around Leona, your grip firm as if you’ve decided you’re never letting go. At first, he’s as stoic as ever, arching an eyebrow in mild confusion. “Oi, herbivore…what’s this all about?” he mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

But when you stay silent, he lets out a chuckle, amused by your stubborn clinginess. “If you’re hoping to trap me, you might wanna try harder than that.”

After a few more moments, his teasing fades. You’re still holding him, your head resting against his chest, heartbeat steady against his. He tries to check if youre upset and realizes then that you’re not sad, nor do you seem upset; you’re simply content. When he starts to pull back to look at you, you give him a warm smile and quietly say, “I just…love you.”

The words wash over him, soft and simple yet deeply affecting. His expression shifts, from nonchalance to something much more vulnerable. To Leona, who’s spent much of his life overshadowed, unwanted, and fighting for recognition, the idea of being someone’s first choice feels like an impossibility.

And yet, here you are, holding onto him like he’s the only thing that matters. He swallows hard, not saying anything, but the look in his eyes says it all.

He finally allows his arms to come around you, drawing you in with more intensity than he’d probably ever admit aloud. His tail snakes around your waist in a protective loop, pulling you even closer, as if anchoring himself to you. “Don’t go getting mushy on me,” he mutters, trying to sound unaffected, but his grip tightens just a bit more.

But despite his usual attitude, he’s never felt this…full. Full of pride, full of warmth, full of something he’s struggled to admit he even wanted. And it’s all because of you, the one person who looked past his rough edges and stubborn exterior.

He chuckles softly, burying his face in your shoulder, whispering, “Guess you got yourself a lion for life, herbivore.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is hunched over his desk, papers and ledgers strewn around him, eyebrows furrowed as he works late into the night. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t even notice you approaching until you gently climb onto his lap, resting yourself against him without a word. His body goes rigid in surprise, the usual control he wields over his composure completely shattered.

“Are you... feeling alright?” he asks, voice a little breathless, struggling to keep himself calm as you press your face into the crook of his neck. “Are you sick? Is there something wrong?”

You just shake your head, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “I just love you, Azul,” you whisper softly, a warmth in your gaze that sends his heart into overdrive. “And I’m so proud of you.”

With that, you wrap your arms around him again, holding him close, and suddenly, all the strength in him unravels. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this—how much he craved reassurance, wanted to know he was worth it.

All his insecurities, fears, and memories of feeling out of place resurface, but they’re softened by your presence, and with just one hug, you’re able to ease away all that self-doubt he keeps buried.

Without another word, he wraps his arms tightly around you, his grip firm and filled with an unspoken desperation. He clings to you as though you’re his lifeline, as though you’re the single steady point in his otherwise frantic world, and for a few moments, he allows himself to just feel—to let go of the worries, to set aside the constant weight of expectations.

The mountain of paperwork on his desk feels meaningless compared to the comfort you bring, and all he wants is to stay like this, holding you as closely as he can, reveling in the feeling of being loved for who he is.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is in his element, animatedly discussing ideas for his next big celebration. His hands gesture widely, his voice bright, detailing elaborate plans for decorations, food, entertainment—he's clearly in his happy place, and you can’t help but feel utterly captivated by his joy.

Without even thinking, you throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly mid-sentence. Kalim laughs, hugging you back with his usual enthusiasm, though a bit of surprise colors his expression when you show no signs of letting go. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asks, a smile in his voice.

You lean back just enough to grin up at him, eyes shining. “I’m perfectly okay. You just looked so radiant talking about the party—and I love you.”

He stares at you for a beat, completely dazzled, and then his face breaks into the brightest smile as he spins you around, laughter bubbling from both of you. When he finally sets you down, he pulls you close, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m so glad you chose me,” he murmurs softly, his forehead pressing against yours. The simple joy radiates from him, a warmth and gentleness that wraps around you both. It’s a pure, unfiltered happiness that you feel too, knowing that you chose him, and he chose you.

You stay wrapped up in each other, reveling in that perfect moment, glowing with the warmth of shared love. For now, with his laughter filling the room and his arms securely around you, nothing else matters.

Jamil Viper

Jamil walks into his room, the exhaustion from managing Scarabia weighing heavily on his shoulders. But before he can even remove his shoes, you’re already there, waiting for him. Without a word, you step into his space, your arms winding around him in a gentle but firm embrace.

His body relaxes instantly, the stress of the day melting away as you run a soothing hand down his back. The warmth of your touch settles over him like a blanket, but after a few moments, he notices you haven’t let go. The silence stretches, and his concern grows.

He pulls back just slightly, searching your face with quiet intensity. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft, careful, as though bracing for something serious.

You meet his eyes with a smile, your voice tender but full of affection. “I’m fine. I just… I love you. I’m proud of everything you do. You work so hard, and I see all of it. I just wanted to be here, with you.”

A deep warmth spreads through Jamil at your words, the weight of the day almost forgotten as he pulls you back into him. This time, his hold is even tighter, more possessive, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, this moment will vanish. His face buries itself into your neck, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of you—your presence, your comfort.

For once, he allows himself to fully sink into the embrace, no longer needing to wear his usual mask.

With you, he doesn’t have to hold back his feelings. For the first time in what feels like forever, he lets his guard drop, the emotional wall he’s spent building his whole life crumbling in the warmth of your arms.

“I could stay like this forever,” he whispers, the words barely audible as he holds you close. His voice is thick with emotion, a mixture of tenderness and longing. “I never want to leave your side.”

In the comfort of your touch, Jamil realizes something. He’s never felt more at peace, more cared for, than he does in this moment. He holds you tighter, savoring the feeling of being loved so deeply, so completely. No matter what happens, he knows this is where he belongs—in your arms, and with your heart.

Vil Schoenheit

It’s been a long day, and by the time you reach Vil, all you want is to collapse into his arms. But before you can even speak, he’s already analyzing you, frowning at your slumped posture, the bags under your eyes, and the way you haven’t had time to take care of yourself. "Did you eat today? Are you even sleeping? Honestly, I can't—"

And before he can finish his lecture, you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

He catches you with his usual elegance, barely flinching. His lips curl in that slight, amused way, but the concern in his eyes softens as you cling to him, not letting go.

"Darling, What's wrong?" he asks, his voice taking on a gentler tone as he instinctively pulls you closer. You can feel the smoothness of his coat beneath your fingers as you bury your face in his chest.

"I missed you," you murmur. "I'm just happy to see you. I love you. And I love that you worry about me."

Vil’s chest tightens at your words, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him. He gently strokes your back, the movement slow, deliberate. “You’re something else,” he teases, his lips twitching, but there’s warmth in his voice. “You know you should’ve eaten something, and yet here you are, throwing yourself at me.”

His hands remain on you, though, pulling you closer, stroking your back with a tenderness he rarely shows in public. He may pretend to be exasperated, but the way his fingers gently brush the length of your spine betrays his true feelings. Deep down, he’s touched by how much you put up with him.

"You should be scolded for your own good," he starts, but it’s a half-hearted attempt. There’s no real bite to his words this time. Instead, he just holds you tighter, deciding that, just for tonight, you don’t need any more lectures.

“You’ll never be rid of me now,” he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re welcome to lean on me, always.”

In the comfort of his embrace, you let go of the day’s stress, finding peace in the warmth of his arms. There’s no need for anything else, just this moment, just him.

Idia Shroud

Idia’s explaining the intricate details of a new strategy, his eyes wide with excitement. But then, suddenly, you set your controller down and throw yourself at him in an unexpected hug, effectively cutting off his speech. His hair flares a brilliant shade of pink as his brain momentarily glitches, clearly unsure of how to process what's happening.

And he is in full panic mode. His mind, always working a mile a minute, goes into overdrive trying to figure out what he did wrong, or if he's somehow messed things up.

“Uh—are you okay?” he stammers, voice filled with concern but entirely thrown off by the situation. You don’t answer with words, just a soft smile as you bury your face in his chest.

“I love you,” you whisper, “and you’re adorable.”

He’s used to being alone, to being misunderstood, to retreating into his games and hiding from the world. But here you are, in his arms, embracing him for no reason other than that you love him.

Despite his anxious thoughts swirling, he awkwardly places his arms around you, his body stiff at first, unsure of what to do. It takes him a moment before he relaxes, and as he holds you, his mind starts to clear. All those fears—of not being enough, or of being too much—slowly fade away, replaced by something that feels warm and real.

You, who listen to him ramble about things no one else would care about. You, who understand when he’s not up for going out, who accept him as he is. He feels so undeserving of someone so kind, but at the same time, something deep inside him stirs. It’s happiness. It’s love.

His arms tighten around you as he buries his face into your hair, his heart racing with a mixture of overwhelming joy and disbelief. He’ll never understand why someone like you would choose him, but as long as you’re here, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus stands before you, holding the gargoyle he crafted with such care, the stone masterpiece shimmering in the soft light. "This is for you," he says softly, his voice full of pride. His eyes shine with the unspoken hope that you’ll appreciate the effort.

Before he can say anything else, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. He freezes for a moment, unsure, before his own arms encircle you with surprising gentleness. He’s always craved touch, but the depth of affection you offer fills him with awe.

The two of you stand there, the moment stretching on in comfortable silence, until Malleus pulls back slightly, his eyes searching your face. "Are you alright?" His voice holds a hint of concern.

You smile at him softly, your words simple but filled with a warmth he rarely hears: "You mean the world to me. I love you."

Malleus's breath catches in his throat, and before he can think, his arms tighten around you. He pulls you impossibly closer, as if afraid you’ll slip away. His heart races as he feels the weight of your love, the pure acceptance and tenderness you give him. The loneliness he’s lived with for so long, the misunderstandings, the isolation—none of it matters now.

He’s here with you. You see him, not as a prince or a fae of great power, but simply as Malleus. And that, more than anything, fills him with a kind of peace he’s never known.

Malleus buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as if to make sure this moment doesn’t slip away. "I will never forget this," he murmurs softly. "I will cherish you... forever."

In your embrace, he finds something he thought was impossible—a sense of belonging. He smiles, feeling the warmth of your love seep into him, and he knows he is truly loved.

Masterlist