#but I have spent too much looking at these colors already trying to make them look pleasing

[valcaine]

grandpa jumpscare

[rubys-domain]

god i'm actually so worried that my f2p career in enstars is gonna end with love letter yuta

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

—PART SIX

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fallen Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Warnings: none

Notes: sorry it took awhile^^" this is a long chapterr and Happy Valentine's day everyone<3

Word count: 2.5k

PART ONE | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

It has been two days since [y/n] started living with Lucifer in the palace of hell that is located in the pride circle. It's awkward to say the least, it has been years since... Well, they spent time with each other.

Lucifer on the other hand is very overprotective over her, making sure she's alright even though she has already fully healed herself.

Both fallen angels spent most of their time just talking and catching up with one another. Lucifer shared to her what happened with his marriage and [y/n] sharing to him what happened to her in heaven when he was gone and she also told him about her time at the hotel with Charlie.

Currently the two are in the living room of the palace, Lucifer's head on [y/n]'s lap as she plays with his hair. Fingers weaving through silky blond locks, soft against her fingertips. Lucifer's eyes are closed as he enjoys the sensation of her fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp. He misses this so much, it brought back a sense of deja vu to him. Reminding him of the past where he and [y/n] would just be lying down on the clouds, cloud gazing while she plays with his hair and his head on her lap. Lucifer wonders what his life would be if he chose to stay in heaven and didn't break any rules. Would he have been happy with [y/n]? Lucifer mentally asked himself, realizing the thought made his cheeks warmed up.

[Y/n] raises an eyebrow as she watches the man shake his head to himself, laughing quietly to herself.

“What's got you thinking? I just saw you physically disagree with whatever thought you just had.” [y/n] says with a small chuckle, looking down on him. Strands of her hair falling off from her ear where she tucked them, silk like [h/c] locks caressing Lucifer's cheeks. Lucifer looks up and sees her gazing at him, curiosity in her eyes, her hair framing her face perfectly. She looked absolutely divine. Wait a minute, since when did he start looking at his best friend through heart shaped pink colored glasses?!

The realization made his jaw drop, [y/n] getting more confused as she placed her fingers underneath his chin to close his mouth again.

“Now I am really curious what's going on inside that head of yours.” [y/n] mutters, her hand had stopped playing with his hair moments ago.

Lucifer shakes his head, “It is nothing, just... Hell stuff...” he says awkwardly with a laugh, his fingers pulling his collar as it suddenly felt too tight around his neck.

[Y/n] looked at him with her eyebrow still raised but eventually sighs, deciding not to push him to say whatever is bothering him. “Whatever you say, Lu.” she says softly and the comfortable silence falls between them once more. [Y/n] humming a tune while she plays with his hair once more while Lucifer was having an internal conflict.

“It has been awhile since I've last visited the hotel, how about we go and see how the others are?” [y/n] murmurs softly, Lucifer opens his eyes to look at her. His red eyes dilated as he gazed up at her, a soft look on his face. He grins at her, showing her that toothy smile that she loves.

“What a wonderful idea, we should visit them!” Lucifer grins, excited to see his daughter again. Although, not really thrilled in seeing the other sinners. Especially that radio demon. He knows that the bastard would try to pull something that will annoy him.

Lucifer sighs once more, [y/n] wondering what got him to change his mood again. At this point she got used to it.

Sitting up, leaving the comfort of her lap. He sat and faced her, seeing her hair falling into her face, he gently tucks it behind her ear.

The two stared at each other a few seconds before quickly avoiding each other's gazes. Cheeks heating up.

“... Right, we should visit them right now” Lucifer says, clearing his throat awkwardly and [y/n] turns to look at him once more.

“Like... Right now..?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and he nodded.

[Y/n] clears her throat, trying to calm her fast beating heart. She expected this, her buried feelings now unraveling like petals of a newly bloomed flower.

Awkward...

Lucifer coughs awkwardly, turning around to look at her, “If you're ready, we can go right now...?” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him, slightly in deep thought.

“Can you give me some time to prepare something? I want to bring something to them when we visit.” [y/n] says softly and Lucifer sighed but gave her a gentle toothy smile.

“Alright.”

[Y/n] decided to use Lucifer's kitchen, the king of hell watching her as he leans against the door frame, admiring her figure as she puts on an apron. [Y/n] approaches him, turning around for her back to face him. The ties of the apron are still not tied.

Lucifer smiled and his hand gently worked with the ties of the apron, tying it securely. “I missed eating your cookies, I remember you used to bake me duck shaped cookies.” he says, nostalgia evident in his voice.

[Y/n] chuckles softly, remembering the memories. “Indeed, you often helped me when I baked.” she says and he smiled, turning around as he too wore an apron, [y/n] tying the ties of the apron.

With a flick of his fingers, Lucifer summoned the ingredients they needed. [Y/n]'s eyes sparkled in awe as she sees the ingredients now on the counter.

The two fallen angels began working on the sweets they planned on making, moving around the pristine kitchen. Working together side by side. Lucifer was tasked with whisking the dry ingredients with the wet ingredients. [Y/n] behind him, looming over his smaller body, her hand on his waist while her other hand held his hand that was holding the whisk. Guiding him on how to whisk it.

‘Goodness, she's so close.’ Lucifer thought nervously. His ears felt unbelievably warm.

“Just like that, good.” she murmurs, against his ears. Oh god, he feels like he's about to pass out.

Suddenly he's very hyper aware. He could feel the softness of her skin against his, her hair occasionally caressing his neck as she leans on his shoulder. The hand on his waist, the hand on his waist, the hand on hIS WAIST. Suddenly he could feel how hot his body was, his heart beating so erratically against his ribcage.

“Lu? Are you okay? You seem spaced out...” [y/n] says worriedly as she noticed the man seemed to freeze while whisking.

[Y/n]'s facial expression softens, admiring the man in front of her. He still looked beautiful as the day she lost him.

Removing her hand from his wrist, that hand gently cupped his cheek. Breaking him out of his thoughts, jumping slightly.

“Jesus... You surprised me.” He sighs, placing a hand over his chest to calm his fast beating heart. The golden organ beating against his ribcage.

[Y/n]'s eyes soften, “You spaced out for a second, I got worried.” she says softly, brushing away the strands of blond hair away from his face that was beginning to fall into his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked him worriedly and he gave her a gentle smile, nodding.

“I am alright, I was just... Thinking...” he answers, voice gentle. He wouldn't tell her that he was thinking about her. How he was basically thinking about her touch.

“If you say so...” she says hesitantly and they eventually return to baking.

They just made the classic chocolate cookies and also baked an apple pie.

They arranged the cookies and placed them into two rectangular boxes, they made enough for the hotel crew. [Y/n] carefully placed the apple pie on the cake container, allowing it to cool down first.

The two decided to change into a cleaner set of clothes as the ones they were wearing were dirtied when they were baking.

Lucifer gifted her clothes of course, she has her own room, a few doors away from his.

[Y/n] decided to wear a cute dress that was on her wardrobe, slipping it over her body. Applying some light makeup on her face. Grabbing a brush, her hand gently moving as she began to brush her hair.

After changing and meeting up in the living room, the two fallen angels didn't notice that they accidentally matched color schemes with their outfits.

Lucifer wore his usual white suit with red accents while [y/n] wore a white with red accents short dress that reaches her knees.

[Y/n] decided to carry the two boxes of cookies they've made, though, Lucifer wanted to be the one to carry it but the woman insisted as he would be the one to teleport them to the hotel.

Lucifer sighs but gives her an understanding smile, placing his arm behind her back and allowing his hand to rest on her waist. The action caught the woman off guard as she could feel heat creeping up to her cheeks.

Lucifer didn't notice how that simple action could fluster her so much, he thought it was nothing as he only wanted to make sure she teleports with him.

With a snap of his fingers, sparkling red smoke covered their bodies. The scenery of the palace's living room morphs as they teleport, now, they're in front of the Hazbin Hotel front doors.

Charlie was just discussing with the gang about what they're planning to do once Adam and the exorcists will come. Their attention was diverted as knocks were heard on the doors of the hotel.

“Oooh new guests?” Angel Dust says with a smirk, lying on his stomach as he lies on the couch, taking up the entire space.

Alastor was just grinning as he sat on the cushioned chair, Niffty sitting on his shoulders and playing with his hair.

Vaggie was sitting at the bar area with Husk still bartending. Sir Pentious was sitting with them too. The egg boys are just walking around.

Charlie's eyes sparkled, walking to the front door. Opening it to see her dad and... [Y/n]...?!

“Charlieee!” Lucifer greeted as he immediately hugged the girl, [y/n] laughing softly behind them.

Angel Dust looked at Husk, wondering if he saw the same thing as him.

The two fallen angels looked like they were matching outfits. Angel Dust gave them a smirk, in which the two fallen angels were confused why.

“Dad?! I didn't know you were going to visit? And Miss [y/n] I am glad to see you again.” Charlie smiled and approached the woman in which the older woman hugged the girl.

“[y/n] here wanted to visit and I thought why not? Also, we brought cookies! We baked them!” Lucifer says proudly, a grin on his face. [Y/n] laughs softly as she hands the two boxes to Charlie, in which the girl excitedly and happily accepts. “Really? Thank you so much!” Charlie says excitedly.

Charlie gave the two fallen angels a look before giving her dad a knowing smirk, Lucifer was confused.

The two fallen angels looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what that was about. The two eventually went inside the hotel, closing the doors behind them.

[Y/n] was immediately pulled into the group, the hotel crew missing her. Lucifer smiles as he sits on the bar stool, admiring how she interacted with the others. No one is stupid, they can literally see the lovestruck look the King of Hell is giving the female fallen angel, they can literally see his dilated pupils. Charlie sat beside him, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“What?” Lucifer deadpans, confused why his daughter is looking at him like that. Tearing his gaze away from his best friend.

Charlie nudges him, “You liked her don't you?” she teases him, Lucifer could feel his cheeks heat up once more.

“Me?! I think it's a little too early?” he says hesitantly and Charlie just gave him a raised eyebrow, clearly not believing him.

Husk scoffs behind the counter as he continues to wipe the glass, “Yeah, no one is believing that. We can literally see you giving her heart eyes and you two even looked like you guys are matching clothes.” Husk says nonchalantly and Lucifer had to double check his outfit and [y/n]'s.

They indeed looked like they were matching outfits.

Husk and Charlie could see the circles of Lucifer's cheeks redden even more. The king of hell was leaning his head against the counter, burying his face on his arm as he used it as a pillow, “It was a coincidence.” he explained and Husk just scoffs and chuckles.

“I think it's too early...” Lucifer murmurs, he doesn't want to admit it but he's scared of what Charlie will think. Will she think that he's replacing her mother?

Charlie's eyes soften, she places a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “You love her don't you? Long before I even existed and you still do and I think you shouldn't deny it dad. It's not healthy.” she murmurs softly and Lucifer sighs.

Charlie smiled softly at him, “If you're afraid of my opinion about this, I think you should go for it dad... I want you to be happy and Miss [y/n] seems to be a nice woman...” she says softly as she looks at the woman smiling with Sir Pentious and the egg boys as they ate the cookies that she and her dad brought. Charlie doesn't mind calling [y/n] her step mom. She already sees her like a mother figure already.

Lucifer's eyes softened, sparkling.

“You better shoot your shot, I think you're not the only one interested in her.” Husk says emotionlessly, gesturing behind Lucifer. The king of hell turned around and he could feel his eye twitch as Alastor gave him a smirk as the radio demon twirled the woman while she laughed.

Husk knows Alastor isn't interested, sure, the radio demon sees the woman more as a companion. He just needed to help this pathetic man they call a king to make a move.

Lucifer's sharp nails slightly graze the wooden counter in annoyance.

Charlie nudges him again, breaking his focus from the scene.

“Besides, I won't mind calling her mom. I won't replace my birth mother of course but Miss [y/n] is like a mom to me too. Allow yourself to be happy, dad.” Charlie says softly, smiling at her father.

Lucifer could feel himself get flustered at the idea. Him, Charlie, and [y/n] as a family. It doesn't sound so bad. It sounds amazing actually.

“Soon... I want to make sure that I am ready...” Lucifer says softly, his eyes looking at the woman who was happily conversing with a certain arachnid, chuckling softly as he notices her getting flustered. It might be because of what the arachnid has said to her.

Charlie smiled and nodded, “Take your time dad. You have all the time in the world.” she says softly and he nodded in agreement, “Indeed...”

TAGLIST I: CLOSED

@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers

[kedreeva]

Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.

I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.

Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.

To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.

To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.

Here's the sire cock, the one imported:

You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!

And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:

(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)

The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!

[nikosama13]

Monster Trio forgetting it's your birthday! (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x Reader)

Description: The monster trio (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji) forget about your birthday!? As one of the brighter crewmates reminds them about it, hopefully they could get you a gift on time or something more..

(A little suggestive..)

Side Notes: Hello my wonderful Loves! This is my absolute fav ideas so far. Plus it’s on my birthday!♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ (Probably spelling mistakes)

Enjoy the read! <3

Consider following..?

~~~

Luffy:

It was the day of your birthday and Luffy woke up in his room as it was like another casual day on the Thousand Sunny, completely forgetting about it.

As he left his room, the ocean breeze hit him in the face which was a new and refreshing feeling for him. The waves were strong but it wasn’t anything that the Sunny couldn’t handle.

He began walking down the hall planning to go sit on the bow of the ship. But then his stomach grumbled, so he made a “quick” detour to the kitchen to get what other than meat.

When he entered the kitchen, it was decorated with colorful string lights and a gorgeous table cloth.

To his left he saw Nami and Robin decorating. Nami was on a ladder and Robin was passing party banners with her devil fruit. To his right he saw Sanji baking something up which smelled great but it wasn’t meat..

“Hii! Whatcha guys doing??” Luffy said in his excited manor.

Nami and Robin turned to face him while Sanji was already walking over to the fridge to get Luffy his meat he has been so longing for.

“We're decorating for y/n’s birthday.” Nami smiled as she tapped down the colorful fabric.

Luffy’s jaw hung from his mouth and his eyes popped out.

“Don’t tell us you forgot..” Robin shot him a concerned look.

“Ah- Uh- Mh-.. of course not..” he looked towards Sanji trying to change the subject.

“Hey, Sanji! Is my meat ready?” He tried to worry about all that confusing birthday stuff later, however he did know that it held great importance to you and the crew.

“Yeah.” Sanji glared at Luffy and set down his meal.

After about 8 minutes Luffy finished eating and ran off to his room.

Nami and Robin giggled about how Luffy was acting and his forgetfulness, but on the other hand it wasn’t like his behavior was anything new to them.

Luffy jetted into his room and began brainstorming ideas on what you’d even want for your birthday. He thought about giving you some food or maybe a pet..? He was really stuck but also really wanted to give you something.

Then it hit him.. He ran out of this room and down to Ussop’s workshop.

The doors swung open, scaring Usopp. “Usopp! I need your help!”

Luffy was hoping he could make this happen.

Usopp jumped out of his chair and hid under the table.

“Jeez Luffy.. y'know you could knock next time..” Usopp scratched the back of his head and sat back up on his chair making room for Luffy to sit.

“So what do you want exactly..?” he asked Luffy.

After a long story of explaining what happened and what he wanted to make for you, him and Usopp spent the rest of the day making this “unknown” gift for you.

---

Right now it was night and all the crew members of the Straw hats were hiding in the kitchen. This included Luffy and Usopp. They all awaited you, as soon as the door handle clicked they’d jump..

You were super confused and almost scared that someone had maybe captured your friends while you were getting ready in your new party dress Nami helped you pick out.

It was too quiet..

Then the door handle clicked and you walked in..

“SURPRISE!!” The whole crew said together.

“Awhh! Thank you so much guys!” you flustered immediately at everyone’s thought of putting this together just for you.

“Have a seat mademoiselle~” Sanji pulled out a chair for you at the table.

After you sat down, everyone scurried around the table and plopped down in their seats.

Then they sang you ‘Happy Birthday’ and your cheeks flushed even more with embarrassment.

Lastly, Sanji handed over to you a knife to cut the cake.

You didn’t even take a second to admire the masterful art work Sanji had put into the whole piece and instead you cut into it like you were stabbing someone.

Later on, after everyone’s wonderful gifts to you it was Luffy’s turn..

Everyone sat silently, surprised their captain actually remembered and brought something.

Now the real question was if it was any good.

You slowly unwrap the decently sized box and low and behold an adorable music box with your name engraved in the front of it and your favorite colors painted all around.

Everyone stared at Luffy including you.

Then you flipped the music box over to twist the knob and you also noticed some lettering saying “Built by Usopp The Great”.

You smiled at Usopp, also thanking him for his hard work.

Finally.. It was time for some real partying as all of you sang and danced.

Most of the crew got drunk too, excluding Chopper, Robin, and Sanji.

You and drunk Luffy headed out alone to the front part of the Sunny when you planted a small kiss on his forehead, making both of you a blushing mess.

“Thank you..Luffy.” you smiled and gave him a signature Nami hug as your chest engulfed his face.

By the end of the night the music box was placed in the center of your vanity but shaking violently. I wonder why.. (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

Zoro:

Zoro was in a deep sleep..

That was, until he woke to the sounds of the Straw Hats running around the ship frantically.

Pots and tins clattering, Nami’s voice yelling at what sounded like to Luffy and Usopp “do something helpful around here!” and lastly chopper’s hooves running on the deck, holding some colorful paper.

“Oi, what the hell is going on here??” Zoro said unhappy, because he was awakened from his nap. He rubbed his eyes and was met with the unpleasant sight of.. Sanji.

Sanji shot him a mean glare, “It’s y/n’s Birthday, mosshead.”

Zoro was too shocked to talk back to Sanji, instead he sat there on the floor with his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Oh.” Zoro said flustered because of his forgetfulness.

“Looks like someone forgot~” Sanji teased.

“Shut up, cook” Zoro stood up and walked towards Sanji.

Both of them cracked their knuckles, ready to brawl.

Nami rolled her eyes in a “here we go again..” manner. Then she proceeded to take care of the situation..

Zoro and Sanji parted ways with huge bumps on their heads.

When Zoro arrived in his room he plopped down on this bed and tried to sleep, but something was bugging him..

Like he was forgetting something.. your gift.

He sprung out of his bed and began pacing around his room, thinking of what to buy you.

Something new.. Or old.. Shiny or brightly colored.

He had no clue.

As the day went on and you and the Straw Hats partied. Drinks, food, “wonderful” singing from Luffy, and dancing.. it was almost like the ocean was dancing with you.

However Zoro, watched you closely. No gift in mind or hand at the moment..

Then Chopper announced “Let's open these gives y/n!”

You smiled and nodded.

“Sure, I’d love to!” The crew went around in a circle and passed you their gifts.

Nami gave you a new dress with your favorite colors and Robin bought you a small pocket mirror.

“Thank you so much guys!” you smiled and thanked them.

Sanji turned to Zoro purposely, knowing that Zoro wouldn't have a gift for you.

“How about you, mosshead..?”

Sanji smirked at him.

Zoro glared at him, it was as if he wanted to cut him in two.

“I have something in mind, but it shouldn’t concern you, cook.” he continued to stare a hole through Sanji.

“Hm.. sure you do..” then Sanji turned to you.

“If the mosshead doesn’t give you a gift I’ll take care of it.” he winked at you.

You nodded again, kind of grossed out and looked away from the whole situation.

After the Straw Hats left the deck and were probably sleeping from all the partying.

You walked up to Zoro and looked at him.

“So what’s this secret gift.. Hm?” You stood in front of him.

“Heh. Impatient I see..” he leaned in super close to you.

“W-why so close..?” you started getting flustered.

“I’m just giving you my gift…” he smirked mischievously at you.

Then it happened so quickly that your brain needed a couple of seconds to process what he was doing to you.

He was kissing you.

You didn’t pull away though.. you pushed yourself closer on him.

After a solid minute he pulled you two apart. He was blushing and panting, but so were you.

“Did you enjoy your birthday gift..?”

“Very much so..” you smiled at him.

On the bright side I guess you wouldn't have to be telling Sanji how Zoro didn’t get you a gift..

Sanji:

It was a sunny day on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji woke up as per usual and made the crew their breakfast.

As the Straw Hats ate, they began speaking about you.

Specifically your birthday.

“I’m gonna get y/n one of those music boxes for her birthday!” Nami announced as she smiled ear-to-ear.

When Sanji heard this he almost burnt the meat he was cooking up for Luffy.

“T-that’s today..?” Sanji asked, his voice shaky.

“Duh!” Luffy butted in.

“Oh..” Sanji was trembling as thoughts raced through his mind. He felt ashamed.

How could he forget? Why did he forget? Was he that busy he forgot about you?

But most of all, what would he get you..? However, with luck on his side they were close to arriving at a port with supplies.

Hopefully.. no, he would definitely buy you something from there.

No matter what.

A couple of hours went by and the crew had finally docked in port and everyone ran off somewhere.

Nami, You, and Robin went out shopping, as your way of celebrating. Luffy, Ussop, Franky and Chopper ran out to some restaurant and lastly, Zoro was keeping watch over the ship. In other words he was sleeping..

As for Sanji.. Well he was scrambling all over town to find you something.

Eventually, the crew all met back up on the ship with “minor” issues.

The rest of the night was dedicated to you, drinking, dancing, and making a mess of the ship.

When you opened your gifts up you loved everything you got. From a new handbag to a half-alive fish from Luffy.

Then it was Sanji’s turn.

He handed the gift over to you. It was wrapped to perfection in expensive paper..

When you unwrapped it, you were met with a small box.

Then you opened the box and to your surprise it was a stunning ruby necklace.

“S-sanji.. This is beautiful..” you picked up the piece and examined every shine and detail of it.

Sanji just simply stood there and smiled at you.

“H-how much was th-” he cut you off.

“The price doesn’t matter, mademoiselle. But.. if I were you, I’d look at the back of it..” he said, smiling so hard it hurt.

You spun the piece around on it's back side and there it said..

"Be mine.”

Your cheeks became a shade of crimson.

Everyone else on the Sunny was either drunk or knocked out cold on the floor, sleeping.

“Will you..?” Sanji stepped closer to you and sneakily creeped his hands up your waist.

“Y-yes, yes I will.” you blushed, it was like your body was a magnet to his.

He could resist the way you looked at him, all shy and confused.

So he kissed you.

It lasted for a few seconds and you two pulled apart.

“Shall we take this to my room madam..?” He smiled mischievously.

“Of course dear.” you smiled back.

Let’s just say that your new necklace wasn’t the only thing taken off that night.. ~~~

The End~

Thank you so, so, so much for reading! (It’s also my birthday today so tysm! <3)

Consider following..?

[blues824]

I saw your sheep mc posts in the request masterlist and imagine if sheep mc couldn’t talk like in the manga but can only bleat like a regular sheep. So the brothers got them Dog Buttons that people sometimes use to get their pets to communicate with them. Imagine a scenario where mc uses one of the buttons that say a swear word to cuss out a brother🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Gender-neutral reader.

Lucifer

He had seen a video of the talking buttons on Devilgram, sent to him by Levi, and had asked if you would like them to be able to communicate properly. After you sat on the piece of paper that said ‘yes’ rather than ‘no’, he put in an order for them. A few days later, he got a notification on his DDD that they were delivered.

Upon opening the box, he saw that the buttons were brightly colored, and thus you would be able to distinguish them. Also, there were labels for the buttons as well. He sorted the buttons from normal words to curse words, and for the rest of the day it was a reliever for everyone that you were able to finally communicate in a somewhat normal medium.

However, the peace had not lasted more than a couple of hours. He was sitting in the living room when you were pressing two buttons over and over again. If you couldn’t tell already, it was ‘fuck’ and ‘you’. He looked and saw that you were cursing out Mammon, and he had to refrain himself from laughing out loud as he went to solve the issue.

Mammon

He let out a very loud laugh as he heard that Lucifer ordered the buttons for you, but you rammed into his shin with your horns and that got him to shut up. He helped set the buttons up, and labeled them for you. He pressed a few, and said ‘love you’, and you said ‘love you two (too)’. 

For the rest of the day, Mammon pretty much spent his free time sitting with you and communicating with you through the buttons. It was a lot more fun than he originally anticipated, and he could see why you were enjoying them. The Avatar of Greed was happy that you could finally ‘speak’ to him.

But, Satan came out of his bedroom in a rage and stomped on and broke the ‘outside’ button. You, being the chaotic sheep that you are, immediately started pressing buttons. You said ‘fight, bitch’, and got yourself ready to ram into the Avatar of Wrath. Mammon had to hold you back as Lucifer restrained Satan before any damage was caused.

Leviathan

He originally saw the video and sent it to Lucifer, saying that a system like that could be used for you to communicate your needs in a more efficient way. He also sent the link to order the buttons if the eldest agreed, and he was very excited to help set them up once they had arrived. You had the job of pressing each of the buttons to make sure that none of them were defective.

This was probably the longest amount of time that he had spent outside of his room, just watching you have fun pressing the buttons and asking for random things like water and snacks. He catered to your every desire because he knew that you were enjoying getting something akin to your voice back.

But, the fun was over when Mammon ran into the living room trying to escape Lucifer and accidentally broke one of the buttons. You were upset and said ‘Fuck you, Mams’. That sentence alone had the Avatar of Envy rolling on the floor in tears just laughing as you continued to press those three buttons over and over.

Satan

Each of the brothers pitched in and helped with the labeling of the buttons. Satan thought that the excited sparkle in your eyes was absolutely adorable as you started pressing the buttons. The first one you had pressed was ‘cat’, and he knelt down to the ground to say ‘love you’ as he left to go do something else.

He was sad that he couldn’t spend too much time with you and your buttons, but he had to do the grocery shopping for the HoL, as it was his turn to cook and he found a recipe that he wanted to try out. Unfortunately, he did not have all of the ingredients, and thus needed to go to the store. He did ask if you wanted anything, and you responded ‘snack’, and he made a note on the list to get your favorite snack.

When he came back home, he heard you in the kitchen saying ‘shit’ over and over again. He looked and saw that you had spilled a glass of water and you couldn’t wipe it up because your hooves did not allow you to grab anything. He laughed as he went to clean up the spill, and stated that it was no big deal.

Asmodeus

He was probably more excited than you, to be honest. He loved the videos of the dogs pressing the buttons, so he was very happy that you would be doing it to be able to communicate better. That means you could help him choose between two different clothing options, and you would be able to say ‘one’ or ‘two’.

The first buttons you had pressed were ‘Asmo, beautiful’, and the Avatar of Lust let out a squeal as he canceled all of his plans to just hang out with you for the remainder of the day. He took many videos and posted them to his Devilgram. All the comments were just things like ‘so cute!’ and ‘nice to see that Avatars are accommodating the exchange student!’.

But, the excitement was short-lived when Mammon was running from Levi and crushed one of your buttons. Asmo gasped as you immediately pressed the buttons ‘shit head’, and he had to hold in the laughs he wanted so desperately to let out. His older brother looked like a kicked puppy, but since he saw that the Avatar of Envy was also distracted by what you said, took advantage and continued to run.

Beelzebub

He set up the food-related buttons, obviously. It was funny to hear his voice come from the buttons rather than one that matched you, but at least you could communicate your needs and wants in a clearer and less tedious way. You seemed very excited about it as well, so he was just happy that you were happy.

Almost immediately, you asked for a snack, and he went to the kitchen and brought back a sweet snack and a savory snack so that you could choose what you wanted. You actually really enjoyed the buttons, and you had your very first full-blown conversation with Beel. It was a very moving moment for the big demon, as he had never been able to hear you before.

But, happy time was over when Lucifer accidentally stepped on and broke one of the buttons… ‘burger’. You pressed ‘bitch’ over and over, and you did not allow the eldest brother to get a word in. The Avatar of Gluttony set out about purchasing an extra button to replace the one that broke, but he found the situation absolutely hilarious.

Belphegor

He was honestly confused, but recorded the sleep/rest-related buttons. It was weird to hear his own voice whenever you asked if you could nap with him, but he would never refuse a request from his beloved Y/N. Honestly, he didn’t mind the buttons. He always made sure that he minded where he stepped to make sure that he didn’t break them.

There were times where he would wake up to you pressing a button, be it ‘school’ or ‘breakfast’ or something of the sort, and he low-key preferred it where you did not have any buttons and thus couldn’t wake him up. But, if there was any way he would rather wake up, this would probably be what he chose.

One time, Beel accidentally broke one of the buttons, and before he could apologize, you said ‘want, fight, piece, shit?’, and the twins got the idea. Belphie started laughing so hard, and the Avatar of Gluttony was just looking like a kicked puppy as you continued to cuss him out.

[lennadanvers]

Three times Simon wanted to hug you (and the one time he did)

This is the part 2. The first part is here <3

Somehow, he felt even worse this time.

And he wasn’t the one who had spent months out in the wild, only for the mission to fail miserably. He was just fine: he had slept, eaten (half his usual portion, but that was just because he had heard you were on your way back) and he didn’t have any recent injuries.

You, on the other hand, looked a second away from breaking down. All colors suited you, but the greyish purple shade of your dark circles had him wanting to apologize (even though he knew he had zero responsibility over them). Your hair looked simply sad, and it only helped accentuate your expression: you looked guilty and scared, and your frown was the one you wore when you had to ask for help (you felt useless, he was sure).

When you stepped down the back of the truck, he realized with horror that you were covered in blood too, not only dirt. And were you limping? Your right ankle had always been a weak point of yours. Ghost took a step forward. The backpack you carried was gigantic, even more for your beaten, exhausted body. It was inches away from falling off your shoulder.

You didn’t look up at him- you didn’t have the courage- and he thought that you looked cold and tiny. As you walked in his direction, his hands itched again. Ghost wondered if you’d feel offended if he grabbed your backpack, take the weight from you, help you carry what he could (after all, the deaths of your teammates were something he couldn’t lift from your shoulders). Just as he decided it wouldn’t be worth taking the risk- he refused to make you feel worse-, you walked past him. Without uttering a word, without as much as blinking in his direction.

That night he couldn’t sleep. The image of you all bummed, dirty and tired haunted him. Laying alone in his way-too-comfortable-bed (it was actually not that comfortable, just way more than he felt he deserved), Ghost wondered if he could have helped. If he had grabbed your bag, tossed it on the floor. If he had hugged you, firmly, softly, hiding you from everything. If he had let you cry (he had never seen you cry, and he didn’t plan to, but what if you could hide your tears, safe in his chest, next to his heart?), if he had shared his body heat to help soften the ache in your bones. If he had reached out, would it have made you feel the tiniest bit better? Would he have been able to offer any semblance of comfort?

He hoped not, because if he had denied you that, he deserved many more sleepless nights.

Next morning, he marched towards the kitchen; fueled by that dark and soft thing that had taken place in his chest. He boiled some water, and over the sound of the kettle, he heard his mother’s voice: A good cup of tea is like a warm hug for the heart.

He knocked on your door. You opened it, looking just as miserable as the previous night, but cleaner. Again, you didn’t look at him in the face. He knew the guilt, the shame, that came with loosing a team member like that. He also knew you had done everything you could to try to save them. Even worse, he knew no one could help you feel better.

Still, he offered you the steaming cup of tea. You grabbed it, hands around your favorite mug like you were stopping yourself from clawing at it. Ghost didn’t say anything, just nodded and turned around. He heard the faint sound of your lock clicking closed, and, even though he was standing alone in the hallway, he didn’t feel as though you had left him outside.

After all, behind the door, you were sipping directly from his boiling heart.

I already have parts 3 and 4 ready, I'll be posting them over the next week. If you liked it, feel free to comment. Also if you have any ideas/thoughts you want to share, asks are open.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!

Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.

The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.

Hope you like it! <3

Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!

WC: ~1.7k

Divider by @cafekitsune

My  wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height. 

When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch. 

Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out. 

I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.

Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.   

I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter. 

A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk. 

“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down. 

He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.

“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg. 

“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom. 

People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out

“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.

“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach. 

“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest. 

“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses. 

“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly. 

“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins. 

“Bite me.”

 “With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand. 

“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles. 

My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side. 

“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.  

“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back. 

“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. 

“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder. 

He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks. 

“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up. 

I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle. 

“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear

“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”

[sassycheesecake]

It’s a beautiful day during the fall season, the different pretty colors of the leaves that have been changed after summer was over, fall into the cold ground.

Two individuals, one man, with hair as dark as the midnight sky and a woman, drop-dead gorgeous, rest underneath a Japanese Maple tree. But they are not just any individuals.

The 6'3 tall man named Kiyoomi Sakusa, is secretly a yakuza member of the Jackals, one of the most feared mafia groups in Japan. The woman however, is a mere citizen but also the lover of said man. Sakusa took some time off his job to spend it with you instead, Meian thankfully granting him the request.

Collecting bounties and income, smashing a few heads and breaking some bones here and there, Sakusa is a ruthless, cold-blooded hunter when it comes to his position in the yakuza. To you however, he is the most sweet and softest puppy dog.

Sakusa is just relaxing with his head on your lap with his eyes closed, when he felt a very light weight on his head.

Opening one of his dark orbs, he sees that you placed something upon his dark curls, adjusting it as you focus highly on your task.

"What did you put on my head, my love?" He asks you, opening his other eye now as he looks at you with a breathtaking smile.

You’re quiet for a few seconds, when you gaze back into his dark eyes.

"A gift. Now you look even more handsome." You gush at him, blushing slightly at seeing his one-in-a-million-smile that just you get to see.

Sakusa chuckles lightly at your words, reaching up to find out what you placed on his dark curls only to get his tattooed hand slapped away from you.

"Ow. Why did you slap my hand away?" He pouts as he rubs his hand over the one you slapped, even though it barely hurt him.

"I just spent an eternity making you a magnificent flower crown and placed it on your unruly, complicated black curls, if you even move a single millimeter you will ruin my perfect placement." You scold him while waving a finger in his face.

"I didn’t know an eternity in your language means five minutes."

Sakusa snatches your hand and brings it to his face, pretending to bite it.

You screech in fear while quickly pulling your hand out of his and the ravenette chuckles darkly at your action.

"That’s what you get for trying to bark orders at me, you little germ." His hand finds yours again, intertwining your fingers with his big, slender ones. And you remember, that these fingers carry lots of blood on them, yet you don’t care. If anything, it makes Sakusa even hotter than he already is. And he is yours alone, as much as you are his.

"What? I can’t bark orders at you but Meian can?" You arch in eyebrow in annoyance.

"Yes." He bluntly states as he continues to look up at you.

"And why’s that?" You pry further.

"Because Meian pays my bills and he is my boss." Sakusa explains as if he’s talking to a toddler.

"What if I were your boss? Would you listen to me then?" You make a cute face, batting your eyelashes at him.

"No." Your lover disagrees.

"WHAT?!"

"I wouldn’t be able to take you seriously. And I don’t think any of the guys would. You’re too cute and you have the face of an angry wet kitten whenever you are mad at me." Sakusa explains with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Also. I know that Miya and Joffe keep eyeing you whenever they think I am not looking. And I could smash their skulls through the nearest wall whenever I see them do that. You’re already a distraction to me. Imagine the chaos if you have more guys than me thirsting after you." Sakusa adds with a grumble, as he crosses his arms across his chest.

"Awww look at you, Mr.Big-Bad-I-Beat-Up-People-For-A-Living-Kiyoomi Sakusa. What will those poor people think of you when they find out you’re a big fat softie underneath all those tattoos and that mean scowl of yours?" You tease him, laughing at his scowl that’s directed at you.

"Don’t call me a big fat softie in front of the others. They won’t live to tell the tale." Sakusa closes his eyes again, snuggling more into your thighs.

"Not even Miya?" He can almost hear the grin in your voice.

"Especially not Miya." The man mumbles as he starts to drift off.

[sidekickjoey]

In the summer of '86, fresh off of saving the world, Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler get blonde highlights.

Be it a coping mechanism after handling the hell that was spring or simply a mutual need for change, the decision is made without nervousness from either party. They enter the salon together, swear up and down to their assigned hairstylists that, yes, this is what they want and no, they do not care that their hair already looks perfect as is, thanks, and leave donning notably different looks.

Steve's signature chestnut ends up woven between streaks of gold, giving him a sort of distracting glimmering effect when he walks out into the sun. Nancy's waves, though still shoulder length and crimped to perfection, sway almost completely and utterly blonde in any light.

Needless to say, their new looks quickly make them, the former it-couple of Hawkins, the talk of the town once more - including that of their two closest friends, Eddie and Robin.

They, unlike the general public of Hawkins, have spent the past few months slowly building massive crushes on Steve and Nancy, entranced by their might after surviving the horrors of the Upside Down. While to most a change in hair color for Steve and Nancy is merely an oddity, to them? It's like someone hit the panic button and left them to scatter in a secluded room.

Robin has only been over her gaga-for-Vickie phase for a few weeks now. The wound is still fresh, and she knows she should not be looking once again into a possible unrequited love situation until she is better healed emotionally. She also knows he has a weakness for blondes that goes beyond all reason, i.e. Tammy Thompson and her muppet singing voice. She shouldn't act and possibly jeopardize one of her most sincere female friendships over a silly little weakness like that.

However, Nancy looks like a vision in blonde.

Robin thinks it's her big doe eyes that do it. They pop when the blonde meshes with Nancy's fair skin, and it makes her heart swoon in the most debilitating of ways. Not to mention, the softer cut she got along with the lighter coloring frames her face so well. Robin swoons over it. If not for her fear of rejection, she probably would have already taken the leap and done something stupid, like confess how Nancy's scrambled her brain.

Eddie's not doing much better himself with Steve.

He had been there in the early days, when Scoops Ahoy's newest worker showed up in his first edition of golden highlights. Like any good Hawkins resident, he had handled it with poise, class, and lots of extra trips to Scoops Ahoy whenever he happened to be at the Starcourt Mall, along with frequent whisperings of 'what the hell' expressed in the confines of his room where no one could hear him freak out. T'was standard™.

This look, though...it blows Scoops Ahoy Steve away by miles.

It's bright. It's golden. It's like he slipped and fell into some kind of radiant daydream, only to emerge like a ray of sunlight to distract Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson alone, and Eddie can't shut up about it.

Seriously, Wayne has heard enough.

The issue is, he has next to no idea what to do about these feelings. His mind is screaming to make a move on the guy, because you only live once and, well, he's already on his second try. However, his little worried heart loves Steve's newfound companionship and whatever odd-couple friendship they have going on right now. He doesn't want to lose that because of some dye job and a trim. It's too important, too good.

So, like Robin, he finds himself refraining.

They both refrain, and over the next week or so, the decision to do so eats at them like mad. They stumble over their words when speaking to Steve and Nancy. They actually stumble physically, in Robin's case, when Nancy walks by one morning. They tell anyone and everyone they can about it aside from Steve and Nancy, and by the end of that week, it all hits a breaking point. Word slips for the sake of everyone's sanity to Steve and Nancy.

It should mark the beginning of havoc and betrayal.

Instead, it breeds two plans.

Because, here's the thing: Steve and Nancy are not dumb, contrary to what some might think. They are wildly observant people. They know what their friends are up to, and Robin and Eddie are high on that friend list after spring. They've seen their behavior and, though Nancy had to spell a little bit of it out for Steve, both have come to the conclusion that something is definitely up in the crush department. If they want to capitalize on it, they know there is no better time than now while their haircuts are still new and their own crushes are seeking an opportunity to spill their feelings.

Nancy's plan to handle Robin, to the untrained eye, is simple. She's known for carefully thought out strikes when people least expect them, and the last thing she's going to do is stop using that tactic to her advantage now.

So, she invites the other girl on a trip to the mall for new bracelets. She claims it's on account of Holly taking hers hostage (not a total lie) and needing time out with someone her age (also not a total lie), and Robin buys it in seconds. A day later, they meet up at a boutique mall just outside of Hawkins and roam for a few hours together. It's simple. Casual. Subtle enough to be innocent from afar yet just intimate enough for Nancy to make her move when the time is right.

The time becomes right when they're sitting at a booth in the food court, chatting about Holly's other jewelry-related crimes. Nancy accidentally knocks the fork for her salad off the table, catching the attention of them both. Robin is quick to say she's got it, but Nancy is faster. Ready. She reaches down, picks up the fork, and in a fit of bravery, makes damn sure she holds eye contact with Robin the entire way back up. Robin swallows and looks away, clearly flustered and trying to behave over such a small thing as eye contact. But, Nancy doesn't want her to ignore it this time. So, she pulls a cheesy line from Steve's old book (that she totally did not rehearse with Steve, not at all) and misbehaves, just to get the ball rolling.

Batting her eyes, she asks in her most casual drawl, "Sheesh Robin, do blondes always make you this nervous?"

Robin chokes on her milkshake. 'Accidentally' knocks over her own fork. Goes down beneath the table to - not subtly - whisper-scream about what the hell that just was, because what the hell was that? Hello?

Nancy finds it incredibly endearing. She kind of wants to tell her about it.

She joins Robin on the floor to do so and giggles, freakin giggles, at Robin's shock and awe over her being there. Robin, panicked, reaches for the fork she dropped and holds it up to Nancy for her to see like it's some kind of explanation for her huddling under the table a full minute after it fell. She then stutters out a small 'got it,' despite Nancy being a goddamn journalist who notices things for her job and is fully capable of using her own two eyes to see, what the heck Robin??

Nancy still finds it all so endearing, though she doesn't think saying it out loud would be the best course of action anymore. Her last words sort of sent the poor girl into a spiral, and as fun as it is sharing this cramped space with her, she kind of wants to get off the gross tile if at all possible. So, instead, she does the next best thing and expresses her fondness physically.

With a kiss.

On the mouth.

Hidden by the table but all-too-real and seen to Robin, who forgets how to breathe because oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH.

It's perfect. It's effortless. It's everything. It's hands-down worth the hours of waiting Nancy had to do under a hairdryer in foils to get her here, and even more worth Robin's adorably rushed confession after the fact that she's always liked blondes, just a little bit.

~~~~~~

Steve's plan is a lot different than Nancy's.

He is a tried-and-true passionate romantic after all, and Eddie is about as dramatic as Shakespeare. A casual outing or demure kiss under a table is just not going to cut it in terms of a confession for either of them. Steve knows this. He tells it to Nancy. Repeatedly.

After hours of back and forth over the phone, he eventually finds himself at a music store, equipped with a wad of cash and his eyes set on an, admittedly, badass looking guitar. It has blue flames along its black exterior that rise to its very top and are lined with a reflective silver, making it glimmer even in the dim light of the shop. Eddie's been moaning about losing his sweetheart to the Upside Down for weeks -- no, months at this point. Steve thinks this blue beauty would be a perfect replacement for her. He also thinks it might just be what they need to stop dancing around each other's feelings too, if he's lucky.

He purchases it and stows it away in his bedroom before calling Eddie over the following day. The boy is all nerves when he finally arrives. Steve doesn't help ease them by running his hand through his hair more than once, but what can he say? It's a tough habit to break, and he's been doing it ever since he's hand anything more than a buzz cut. Sue him.

After pleasantries about their day are discussed and Eddie appears to be more calmed down, Steve invites him upstairs for a 'surprise' that just about undoes all the poor boy's progress at once.

Because Steve didn't just place the new guitar in its case and put a bow on it to surprise Eddie. No, he propped that sucker on its stand, bought a small light to illuminate the silver and blue, and placed a little card on the case that said, 'To Eddie, from your sweetheart.'

Steve watches as Eddie physically has to reboot upon seeing it all. He then rushes to cover his ears as Eddie returns to consciousness with a full-blown yell, running over to his gift with repeated 'no way's that get higher and higher in volume with each utterance. All noise ceases when he finally reads the card, though. That's when Steve feels safe enough to drop his hands to his side and make his approach, a shy grin on his lips.

"Like it?"

"Y-You're my sweetheart?"

With a shrug, Steve once again cards a hand through his hair. "If you want me to be. I-I mean, I assumed you would want me to be with all the looks you've been giving me, a-and everything with the Upside Down. But if I've got that wrong, if...shit, maybe I should just-"

Their first kiss is messy, wet, and way too enthusiastic.

Eddie's all teeth from how wide he's smiling into the kiss, and Steve nearly falls over from the sheer force of the guy barreling into him. He grows a bit dizzy, too, from how firm Eddie's grip on his hair has him, and that does little for his already frazzled balance. But, it's perfect. It's so stupidly them and perfect and wild like Steve had hoped it to be, like Eddie hoped it to be.

Later, when Steve leaves Eddie to enjoy his guitar in peace and breathe because, yeah, he finds himself making a mental note to call Nancy when he's home. If this is what one round of highlights gets him, he'll be damned if they don't plan another round for touch ups soon.

Stepping inside, Steve catches sight of a blinking light on his answering machine that tells him Nancy'd be damned, too.

He smiles.

[xximpressions]

The Duchess

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you try to navigate rejoining the society you once knew.

Word Count: 1,710

A/N: Had this idea after seeing Netflix's spinoff of Bridgerton and could not put it down!! Let me know what you think! If I hear from enough people, I'll turn this into a series :)

Bridgerton Masterlist

Next

____________________________________________________________

Fighting the urge to let out a sigh full of boredom, you raised the glass of sparkling wine up to your lips.

While taking a delicate sip, your eyes roamed across the vast room once again. It seemed like they were in search of something, but you honestly could not say what. For what seemed like the hundredth time, your gaze was occupied by men who drank too much, women who thought too little, and musicians whose instruments were the slightest bit out of tune.

Taking in the sight as you stood by the table of refreshments, you were hit with the sudden realization that your eyes had been in search of the glamor a high society ball once offered you.

Before you were married, a party with such intricate dances and overhanging chandeliers would have certainly filled you with awe and amazement. But these days, you found that your feelings aired more on the side of weariness than wonderment.

You supposed that was to be expected given how unpredictably cruel you knew life to be.

Since your mother’s death following your birth, and your father’s death not soon after, you were raised by a frightful aunt who married you off to some lord not even a full month into your first season.

But as the fates would have it, your new husband ended up catching a fever during your honeymoon that quickly developed into something darker.

Having just enough time to get his affairs in order, the man you were sentenced to spend the rest of your life with, took his last breath only hours later.

This unforeseen turn meant you went from wife to widow within the span of a week.

Though you were not really acquainted with the one you called husband, the rules of society still demanded that you mourn him as if you were.

So after secluding yourself and donning black for the required year and a day, you looked forward to attending an event where you did not have to wear the subdued color. 

However, now that you were here, your mind incessantly wished that you were not.

Even prior to your marriage, a part of you always thought balls to be mundane affairs with only the prospect of finding a match to make it interesting. 

But now that you were aware of all the aspects that pertain to wedded life, you were not convinced you should seek it out again.

After all, you had already achieved what many young ladies set out for by using the marital institution to secure wealth and a respectable position in society.

With all that you could want in hand, you were starting to question what you were even doing at this magnificently dull soiree since parties such as these were for matchmaking and the marriage mart—neither of which held your interest as you were coming to learn.

Setting your drink down as you stifled another sigh, you turned and decided to start looking for some kind of exit.

Slowly making your way through the throng of elegantly dressed people, you first felt relief once you came across a set of double doors on a nearby wall.

Thinking them to be the doors you originally entered through, your next emotion was confusion when you saw an outdoor garden rather than an indoor hallway on the other side.

Realizing you had made a mistake, you were about to turn back in order to rejoin the party. But as the serenity of the quiet, night air enveloped your being, you found that your feet had slowly begun to make their way forward instead.

Hoping that a simple stroll through this season’s blooms and blossoms might put you in a more agreeable mood, you continued walking through the lavish landscape. 

You were not sure how long you spent wondering, but it could not have been more than a few minutes later before you eventually gave up.

Deciding it was best to just leave altogether, you started to make your way back to the party until a sudden grip on your upper arm prevented you from doing so.

In a flash, you spun around to face the one who had grabbed you and were both terrified and relieved to see it was a face you knew.

You had been introduced while you were on your honeymoon and your husband was on his deathbed.

When it became known that his health was failing, it was this man that showed up looking for an inheritance.

Being your husband’s younger brother, you could still remember how he heartlessly announced that he was present to ensure his place in the line of succession and nothing more.

So as your present fear turned into outright irritation, you let out an annoyed huff of your brother-in-law’s name while forcefully shrugging your arm from his hand and demanding to know,

“What are you doing here?”

When your pulling away caused him to stumble in place for a moment, your other senses immediately took note of the alcoholic stench permeating from his body and the slurred way he began to speak. 

“W-what am I doing here? What are you doing here??”

He jabbed an accusatory finger in your direction as he asked this question before he brokenly followed up with,

“If…if anyone should not be here, it is you and…and not I, you wicked harlot!”

You could not deny that your eyes had narrowed the slightest bit at this insult. So after straightening your back, you coldly responded to the drunken man in front of you.

“If you wish to address me, you will do so by calling me, ‘Your Grace’. If that is too much of a challenge for you to overcome, I suggest you do not address me at all.”

Done with the idea of being in his presence, you turned to make your way back inside only to be grabbed again not even a foot away.

Quickly putting your hands up to shove as hard as you could, you pushed your late husband’s brother back as you determinedly yelled out, 

“Unhand me!”

He only stumbled back a little before regaining his barings and making a second attempt to rush you.

Only this time, he was intercepted by another man.

Letting out a gasp as your brother-in-law was suddenly thrown to the ground, you could only watch as the person still standing threateningly said,

“I believe I heard the Lady say to unhand her. I would advise leaving now before I feel the need to intervene any further.”

He kept himself in-between you and the drunk on the floor as he spoke which meant you could not see who your rescuer was. But whomever they might be, it was obvious that their tone left no room for negotiation.

Watching over the shoulder of the stranger as your husband’s brother staggered to his feet, you kept your face blank as he threw one last glare in your direction and walked away on unsteady legs until he was out of sight.

Once you could no longer see him, you let out a sigh you did not realize you were holding and raised a soothing hand to your temple as you closed your eyes.

When you opened them again, you unexpectedly found yourself staring into someone else’s gaze.

You and the handsome stranger continued to stare at one another until you remembered yourself moments later.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back, you opened your mouth and cordially said,

“Good sir, while I appreciate your stepping in, I can assure you that I had the situation well under control.”

Raising a surprised brow, the man in front of you proceeded to cross his arms over his chest as he replied.

“Oh? You looked like you were in need of rescuing from where I was standing.”

“A matter of perspective then.”

Though you allowed the flippant response, it was your rescuer who allowed an amused smirk to grow on his face after the fact. Briefly looking you up and down, his tone was confident as he quietly repeated back to you in the quiet, night air,

“A matter of perspective, indeed.”

You felt an unexplainable flutter when he said this and his eyes locked onto yours. But before you had the chance to get drawn in another time, you decided to give a prompt nod of gratitude and goodbye and returned to the party at last.

Once inside, you looked back to take in the sight of the ball as you finally neared the correct exit.

In search of something again, your eyes continued roving over the crowd until they landed on someone already looking in your direction.

Catching the gaze of your handsome rescuer from across the room, you were pleasantly surprised to have a playful smile thrown your way after a respectful bow of his head. Unable to prevent your expression from mimicking his, you tried to keep your smile to yourself as you finally turned to leave the party.

On the other side of the soiree, Anthony Bridgerton was being brought back to reality as his eldest sibling clasped a hand onto the Viscount’s shoulder.

“Brother, what are you looking at with such intensity?”

But as the second oldest Bridgerton only had to follow his brother’s eyes to see what had captured his attention, he was no longer confused when they landed on your retreating figure.

Amused, the artist turned back to the Viscount when he dazedly asked,

“Tell me Benedict, who is that?”

“I do not know. I have only seen her a few times.”

As they both watched you leave, Anthony decided that this was not enough information.

“Come now, you must know more than that.”

Smiling at his brother’s impatience, Benedict calmly replied,

“All I know is that she is widowed and has just come out of her mourning period.”

And with what he had heard at his gentlemen’s club, and all that he had read from Lady Whistedown’s column, Anthony finished putting two and two together and was suddenly hit with the fact that he knew who you were.

“That is not some widow, Brother.”

Catching the last glimpse of you, the Viscount astonishingly breathed out,

“That is the Duchess.”

Next

[jawz]

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about the way my ethnicity affected the way i was gendered as a child, my drive to transition, and even my detransition…

as a hispanic growing up with my white mom and white stepdad and white brother and white extended family in scandinavian hell (minnesota), i always felt different, always felt wrong. (my parents divorced as a baby, and my dad and his family, cuban and italian, all live in florida.) my neighborhood wasn’t so bad; it was way more diverse than the metro area itself. growing up i had mixed friends, i had friends with curly hair… but us trailer park kids were only a fraction of the population of our schools and district. a sea of blonde hair. there were times in elementary school i would literally pray to god to make my hair straight, make my eyes blue. grown-ups touched my hair and always asked “is it naturally curly?”. my classmates urged me to straighten it and by age 13 it was part of my ridiculously time-consuming “feminizing” beauty rituals.

much earlier, by the age of 8 or 9, i already had thick, dark hair growing on my legs. other kids, boys and girls alike, called me “gorilla girl”, faked gagging when i wore shorts, insisted i was actually a boy. that one became more and more common as i came into my personality: bold, class clown, competitive with the boys. (always wanting to charm the girls, but i didn’t recognize that back then.)

my mustache was there by 8, as well. just a little peach fuzz above my lip but dark enough to notice. are you even a girl? my mom would spread wax over her own face and soon began waxing my stache as well. it hurt so badly. i put up with it because she said it would make the kids stop teasing me. of course i was a girl- she was a woman and she had peach fuzz too!… but i felt self-conscious at the fact that my body hair was so much more noticeable, even as a child. my mother’s hair is very thin, straight, lighter brown; her complexion is warmer than mine, pink where mine is olive, green and yellow. i worried you could see the strands about to burst through. i was worried that to be a girl- a woman- i must hide parts of myself every day. i must cover the shoots of grass, the weeds that reveal that i’m not fit for society, that whisper i’m wild and untamed.

it wasn’t actually until i was 18 at least that i actually started to consider myself latino. i had sometimes said ‘hispanic’ growing up, as that’s what my family in florida called themselves; they referred to themselves as “spanish”, which i found out was not quite true after compiling my family tree and discovering that those ancestors emigrated from havana. in their minds they were white: “descended from spanish royalty” (as if!!)… i had spent my youth constantly trying to claim solely whiteness, confused as to why everyone was asking me “are you mexican?” “are you jewish?” “are you middle eastern?” - even though inside i think i knew. i knew my family didn’t look like me. i resented my surname being changed to Lind when i was five, my stepdad’s name, in order to give me the same name as the rest of them. despite my apparent envy of swedes and norwegians i knew it wasn’t my name; i still stood out terribly. i glared at myself in the mirror every day, i never could move past how the kids at school said my eyes were the color of shit, that my hair looked like pubes, that i must have had a sex change without being told because that would explain the mustache, the aggression…

by the time i was fourteen i was entirely primed to accept an alternative explanation to what was “wrong” with me. my sexuality was becoming more and more apparent but before i could ever come out as lesbian or even bi, i had discovered what it meant to be trans. i was so immediately certain that this was the key, THIS was why everyone said i didn’t fit in, THIS was why my behavior wasn’t girly, THIS was why i wanted to date girls. it was 2011, still deep in the “brain sex” era of the trans community, and i was sure without a shadow of a doubt that i was physically female, mentally male. all that needed to be done was to “correct” my body and bring it in line with my brain. despite the fact that very few people knew what transition actually was back then, i genuinely assumed it would make sense to everyone else, too: they had told me i wasn’t ‘really’ a girl so many times i had no trouble believing it.

transition, of course, did not suddenly de-latinize me LOL. first i became a total Other, outside of both the minnesotan ethnic norms and the gender+sex norms; eventually, with hormones and surgery at a very young age, i was able to pass as a boy, but by the time i could grow actual full-on facial hair, i realized i was still the pan-latin american enigma to people around me. multiple times someone would call me “sanchez” as some sort of attempted insult or joke. police looked at me differently than they had before. shop owners followed me, accused me of shoplifting. and sometimes, the white girls i dated told me that i was way cooler than all the boring white boys they knew. one girl even called me “exotic” to my face. it was, apparently, a compliment.

when i was 21 i heard that my girlfriend had referred to me to others as “a POC who identifies as white”. it felt as though she didn’t even know me at all. i’d never claimed either of those things to her.

moving to the west coast (socal specifically, where being latino/a is not considered ‘abnormal’) illuminated a lot of the bizarre and unnatural racial expectations of my midwest upbringing; i think by this point i was beginning to realize what so many things from my childhood had meant. that they weren’t really saying i was a boy. they were saying we don’t like girls who look like you, and we’d rather not have you included in our category.

it took me another three years to fully reckon with this. by the time i decided to detransition i had a much better understanding of the circumstances of my life; conversations with close friends who are also latina and have walked similar paths to me, heard similar insults, similar “compliments”, opened my eyes to the fact that i was not alone. i no longer feel weird for thinking the race/ethnicity boxes on government forms are hopelessly reductive. i know who i am and who i am not.

(around this time, i happened upon some old pictures of my dad’s side of the family. beautiful and glamorous women: adela, my uncle’s mother, the piano player; melanie, my aunt, the wife, hostess, and addict; lauren and andrea, my cousins, the restauranteurs; stella, my dad’s mamma, the widow and matriarch. and on all their faces, thick dark eyebrows, and, yes, that ever-familiar peach fuzz. i swear it healed something in my soul. despite my lack of beauty and glamor, we are not so different after all.)

that’s not to say all things are easy now. i’ve spent three years living as a GNC woman and if that wasn’t enough to confirm most all of my hypotheses on people’s perceptions of me, i don’t know what is.

detrans spaces (like most trans spaces) are overwhelmingly white- or at least that’s who dominates conversation. i see SO much downplaying of the things that naturally hairy women go through societally. i see trans allies who purport to be “okay” with detransitioners, saying “what’s the big deal? if you took testosterone you can just go off it and get laser hair removal!! :)” as if laser isn’t expensive as hell, painful as hell, and also WAY more of a process for a woman with dark curly hair than it is for one with straight blonde hair lmfao!!! i see detrans women obsessed with removing all traces of hair from their bodies (even though most of them clearly don’t have a neverending five o’clock shadow like some of us do! my lower face has a constant blue-green disturbance under the surface which makes female spaces incredibly daunting) and insulting the rest of us for being ugly and hairy and making no effort to look like women or what the fuck ever. basically, a lot of people who claim to support us are just racists and essentialists and believe that sex is visual and not biological…🤨

anyway… i guess my main takeaways from all this are:

1. please stop acting like detransition is an entirely internal process and that it’s easy for all of us to be seen as our sex again (some of us like. actually transitioned and passed as the opposite sex), or that potential physical interventions aren’t incredibly invasive and difficult

2. stop assuming all transition and detransition journeys follow your own experience of lifelong whiteness and hairlessness

3. it is a distinct experience to be regularly de-gendered or denied your sex, PRIOR to ever thinking of yourself as literally trans. many trans/detrans people had this happen to us (we were once the vast majority of trans people). but many did not, and generally shock others when they begun breaking gender norms. i really think people from the second group often have trouble understanding that for the first group, changing gender expression is basically a bandaid over an abscess… we have lived entire lifetimes being denied our sex, being told our bodies are not “truly” ours, that there is someone else inside trying to break out. kicked out of the bathroom, the changing room, alienated from single-sex peer groups. transition just flips this experience and instead separates us from our preferred gender group, reinforcing the feeling that we have no place, anywhere.

race/ethnicity, being homosexual or bisexual, mental illness stigma, disability, and low economic class all play an additional role in this. stop perpetuating this and denying us our biological sex.

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 16. wine-stained lips — ✦ (wc: 0.9k)

Dandelion wine is a delicacy in the heart of Mondstadt, renowned as not only the best-seller of the region’s finest Dawn Winery but also as Venti’s favorite wine. The golden-colored drink has a flavor similar to mead, adorned with a subtle undertone of honeyed sweetness. While you’ve had the pleasure of sharing a glass or two with friends, you’ve never downed a full bottle.

Though that notion certainly changed today.

It’s a scene you're familiar with: dimmed lights, faint music, you and Scaramouche on the couch, sipping on glass after glass of wine. You were talking to him about... something. Was it the wine or the concert? It was something stupid, you know that much, because Scaramouche simply sneered at your comment and drank more of his wine.

The first night Scaramouche graced Inazuma with his presence after years away was spent here in this very living room. You and your friends had downed glass after glass, catching up after an eventful dinner.

Now, nine months have passed since he came back. It’s just you and him here. All alone.

Not that it’s a bad thing, at least in your book. The conversation isn’t boring, being able to flow much more smoothly with the help of the wine. And the skinship isn’t half-bad either. His hand has been resting on your knee for a bit, and your side has been pressed close to his for however long the two of you have been seated on this sofa.

It’s just the two of you here. There isn’t a need to keep up appearances.

"So, Scaramouche," you make your hand into a fist like you're holding a microphone. "How does it feel to be dating the Zenith?" 

"No comment."

You pout, "The crowd's not gonna like that; you're not giving them anything to latch on to." 

"Then I say that it's none of their business."

After a moment, you shrug, "Better than nothing I guess."

The two of you were bound to be hounded by reporters eventually, so you've taken to shooting him question after question in the guise of a journalist looking for some juicy gossip. 

His answers could use some work, you could say that much. 

"Our sources say you were at Windborne's concert tonight. What can you say about their music?" you hold out your invisible mic.

"It was alright."

You're getting annoyed at his clipped responses. "Don't lie, you enjoyed their concert," you swirl your glass before taking a sip. "I saw you smiling when I was on stage." 

"Again, I was only there because of you," he retorts. "You perform really well when you're in front of a crowd. Like you belong there." 

You likely would have blushed even more if the wine hadn't run its course, "Stop trying to butter me up. You're already dating me."

“We’re not even dating. And I’m only telling the truth — you were born for the stage,” he murmurs the next part so softly that you almost miss it. ”I like seeing you perform.”

You choose not to acknowledge the fact that you heard that last sentence, opting instead to drain the remnants of your glass. Its nectarine sweetness gives you comfort, a fleeting refuge from the tension in the air. With your glass now empty, you slowly swiveled to face Scaramouche, your heart racing, and your senses on high alert.

He was already looking right at you, seemingly closer than he was just a moment ago. HIs usually neat hair was now disheveled, a subtle blush graced his cheeks, and gods were his eyes always this pretty?

You lean closer to him, purely to take a closer look at his pretty face and most definitely not for any other reasons. The red eyeliner he usually wears is smudged at the wing, his hand that was once on your knee is now resting on your arm. You're still holding your empty wine glass, spinning it in your fingers while Scaramouche inches impossibly closer. Is the warmth spreading across your body coming from where he's touching you or have you had just one glass too many?

Honesty, you can't bring yourself to care with the way he looks at you. Maybe that's the real source of the heat.

“It’s just you and me here,” you drag your fingertips across his collarbone, a teasing trail that lingers on his shoulder. “No need to get so close.”

“Give it a rest,” he mumbles, voice slurring slightly. “Like you said, it’s just us. So shut up.”

“Make me.”

He leans in closer, ever closer, and presses his wine-stained lips onto yours. Time still as your hand, which was once wrapped around your wine glass, lets it slip from your fingers. You hear a soft thud as it finds its place on your carpet, but your attention is somewhere else entirely.

His hands, soft and warm, find their way to your waist and pull you closer. The taste of wine and the scent of his cologne threaten to intoxicate you further.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. A soft, breathless sigh escapes you, and you feel one of his hands moving to the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You grip his shoulder tighter in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapid beating of your own heart echoes in your ears.

Scaramouche breaks away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. And you see nothing but want and need and desire in his eyes. He kisses you over and over again, each one more desperate than the last.

It’s just the two of you here — you let the world fall away as you start to run your fingers through his hair, a soft groan escaping him as you do this. Nothing else could matter in this moment.

And you’d kiss him all night if he’d let you.

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: nothing more than a mistake made in the heat of the moment. that's all it is, and that's how it should be. but perhaps there's more than meets the eye

taglist — currently OPEN:

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[starrbright]

Carnality in Adoration

“I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins." The Vegetarian, Han Kang

Everything he feels seeping in. Surfacing from the depths of the beginning. It's heavy. Deeper than he thought he could have carried in such a short time. It's terrifying. He welcomes it freely.

Miya Osamu x Reader

Illustrations: Stephan Sinding, Adoration Max Švabinský

I've yet to read 'the vegetarian', but I am aware that the novel is quite horrific as others have said. And using the passage would be out of context, but I couldn't help it, when I saw that words while having this piece in my drafts, I knew i just had to do it.

Nearing 6k words. characters are in their late twenties. established relationship. fluff. smut.

all my y/n are fat and of color.

september 24, 2023, I began this and had to shelf it. And now December 19, I'm finally fucking done😭 spent a little lot of time in a coffee shop today just so to finish this and here it fucking is😭 had three black coffees and am so worn out and shaking. I'm so tired, you guys TT. Been so busy nonstop and I just had to fucking suck it up and finish this one, I hope you like it. A little treat for the holidays. Enjoy and take care!! 💐💌

@iwaberry, @mood-romantica, & @shaisuki my lovelies💘

God. Gods. Angels. Saints. To Osamu, he's unsure if he believes in them. Maybe he does. Maybe.

He's not religious, you've found him to be. But these days, he's making you question so.

Few days of being truly together. Blissful kisses. Sex here and there. He cares for you truly, you know and feel this. He feels for you. You never doubted him the very first moment he made himself known in your life.

From the ardor in his eyes that you saw by how entranced he was looking at you the first time you felt he felt for you. From how firmly but tenderly he always hold your hand to fall his lips on your knuckles before anything else. From the way his eyes closes as he does so, or even more so how he hold his gaze to you when he does it.

From how tired he is at the end of his work, he still makes you a fresh batch of your favorites before you see each other at the end of the day or night. From how you can see the light in his gray eyes whenever you happily eat his food.

You never doubted him, not even when he has yet to say those three delcaring words. He has already uttered such loving words to reflect it. Always. You never doubted him.

And how could you ever ever doubt him--as he has his big hand on your neck, his fingers grasping up until on your plump cheek to take your lips for his own. Drinking the wetness of your mouth to your sounds as he moves his lips and tongue against your own in a way that always has your chest heaving while he doesn't seem to be affected at all as he only hums deeply as calmy--a stark contrast to your soft whimpers, despite the hardness of his erection on your behind.

His big and strong hand holds the round of your stomach against the fabric of your top, him having you from behind is always a delight to him; all the fat and softness of what you have melts onto him, a welcome to the edges he has. A home he's found that he always enclosed with open arms.

A deep breath you let out from your mouth when he finally pulls away, mouths dripping with drools. Osamu takes his breath back by burying his face on your neck, nose and wet lips pressed so against on you, his air so hot on your skin. Hearts thundering against one another.

Finding your voice, before it further unfolds to resulting taking too much time. "We should go now." You say, a little breathy. It fell nothing to his ears.

What didn't fall nothing to your ears is a deep hum that contracted in his throat as his hand squeezed some of your fat on your belly. "Samu." You breathe. Both of you knowing what that all means. But it's always nothing to him. Yet you always still try. A game between you two. Almost.

His mouth begins to move, lips dragging greedily on your skin, the sweetness of what you routinely used melts in his palate. It fuels his need to taste you more, the very taste of you, always.

A hand of his on your neck goes wrapping around your throat firmly, fingers pressing down that your breath hitched as his mouth slides down to your shoulder. Having worn an off-shoulder top gave him access to all what he's doing right now. And you know you wouldn't be wearing clothes that shows skin as whenever this happens, you're always marked. He can't help it. He doesn't want to. To see all what he leaves on you always pleases him. A reminder you're his.

Osamu bites down on the supple flesh all over, wanting to feel the warmth and goodness of your fat in his mouth, inhaling and swallowing each bite, grunts and groans leaving him. He squeezes your throat and breast at the same time, resulting a strained whimper from you, the tightness of his hold on your throat contracts in you, heavy pain of pleasure there to going down your cunt.

"Stay still." He murmurs deeply in between the ministrations of his mouth on you as he squeezed your throat and breast again. It isn't a question nor plea. A command.

It has your cunt fluttering the same of your heart.

Pants of breath, slowly, you calmed your slight squirming against behind him, your right hand that was on his nape never leaves there holding onto him as lifeline. His arm around you that still holds your breast tightly began to squeeze you to him. His cock that was hardened the moment his lips met yours, tight against his pants, pressing on your ass twitching. Your short and tight skirt riding up higher, showing your cheeks, prettily hugged in your white stockings and black panties. "What you do to me." His dripping mouth now on your ear, low and breathy resonates through you, your body shuddering with a whimper once more. "Every. damn. time." He groans each hard hump he made on your ass-friction against his clothed cock and your thinly covered ass, so hot and strained.

His hand stays restraining your throat as the other slowly comes down between your thighs, squeezing you there before slipping his hand in and cupped your mound. Your body flinching slightly with a soft gasp leaving you. His face heavy on your cheek, minty breath reaching your nose and mouth. "Open your legs." A moan escapes you as he speaks, his demands always has you uttering sounds, whether it's the futile denial or meek obedience. At times like this, it's always both.

Your skirt rides up even higher as you opened your legs more, muscles in your limbs beginning to twitch as his palm stays cupping you. Two of his fingers pressing hardly on your cunt against your stockings and panty as he rubs you, wiggling them to squish in your folds, your clit being found and assaulted then. Your wetness spreading and seeps through. "Samu." You moan, your head lazily leaning on him, eyes turning heavy, nails lightly digging on the skin of his nape.

"Need me?" He asks as his tongue slides to the corner of your mouth, dragging that damn muscle to your cheek until to your ear, his saliva painting your skin--already knowing your answer. His digits being drenched by your slick the more he rubs your cunt. He just can't get enough of you. He never could.

"We need to go." It just pleases him more whenever you deny him, well, at least you try to.

And it always fails. ''Wrong answer." But it's the right one for him to keep going. It always is. It just makes his endeavors more pleasurable than it already is.

Just how could you doubt him when he now kneels behind you, his face etched on the back of your thighs, fingers gripping them tightly between your inner thighs. Nuzzling on your fat flesh all over. His eyes drinking in the above him, ass cheeks tight on your black panties against your stockings. He'd tear your stockings if he could and he could, easily so by just his teeth but he doesn't want to piss you off (he does, as always) he just knows you love the outfit you're wearing and he can't have his beloved sad at him. So he makes do with trailing soft kisses on you, his drool leaving of its little marks. Inching up his face by nuzzling on you again. Up, up, up until it reached your ass, nuzzling his face once more.

You have no choice but to stand the there and let him. His lips you feel, his hot breath, the littlest drop of his drools seeping in the thin material. Your hand finding its way to his hair, lightly gripping it as his own two grips your cheeks, spreading them apart. A gasp left you, "Samu-" Your cunt was suddenly licked, hard, tongue wide flat and dragged it slow until to the slit of your ass. Your slick thick on his tongue and he swallows with a guttural grunt, savoring what he can have for now. "How do you expect me to stop when you're fucking dripping."

His damn head buried beneath your ass, panties and stockings just tightly hang low under his chin—as he devoured your cunt from behind, still standing in your heels, no less.

Not a single drop was wasted. Limbs trembling and all as he still held a tight grip on you while he eases your high. His hands so gentle then as he put back on your clothes below you.

Suffice to say, your man was satisfied enough to let both yourselves go out already. And he was more than satisfied. Smug as hell as you sit besides each other along with his parents for a dinner, with his twin, no less—that you have no doubt the said bastard had a feeling something happened between you two before going to their family home. Atsumu can see it in Osamu's eyes after all, something like this is not new.

The lingering taste of your cunt still there in his mouth.

He's a man of unquenchable thirst.

And of selfishness.

You never miss the glint of immediate displeasure in his eyes when someone takes notice of you long enough for him to catch them. And certainly not when his arm secures around you more, and how could anyone miss the moment of him holding your face up to land a firm and long kiss on your mouth.

He's a man.

What can he do when someone is staring at you like he isn't there? And he does it proudly if not even pissed off. He just can't help it, really, even to your friends or closest ones. Seeing them near you, when he's with you, before you could free yourself from his grasp to greet them, his fingers twitch, his hold suddenly tightening—knowing you always greet them with a hug or a kiss on the cheek. It's nothing, but he can't help it.

And he couldn't help but be filled with that selfishness when you told him such a thing; that you'll visit your friend to another country, by yourself, no less. Even if it's only for a day. It filled him with dread.

But still, he allowed you, reluctantly so. You know he didn't want you to go, so you didn't. You didn't want to ruin your short trip while thinking of your man with the state you're both in.

Arguments, it rarely happens. That one wouldn't even count as one. A lesser misunderstanding. Jealousy. That much you already know of Osamu anyway. There's times when you almost feel giddy at his blatant displays of jealousy, but suppose the opposite to it is normal as well--just like right now.

As you sit alone on the floor of your apartment, while you paint, the night young--your heart heavy. And it skipped when you heard the door opened, those familiar heavy footsteps coming close.

As much as you wanted comfort, you weren't ready to see your man again. However, he is. As surprised as he was you were in your home....you didn't go—only then he realized, he messed up.

Osamu sighs as he walks in the living room, seeing your form there, quiet and unmoving but just the strokes of your paint brush, his steps grew light with each of it he takes as his heart sinks more.

There, he sits behind you, his arms immediately but gently as ever wraps around your stomach, hearing the soft hitching of your breath as he enclosed himself behind you, falling his face on your neck.

Your hand stops moving along the canvas, the paint brush just softly dangling between your fingers as you blankly stare at the colorful frame. His weight heavy on you as he holds you tight, yet your heart begins to unburden itself. You breathe, easing yourself as you feel the blues let go from you by his comfort. Gently laying your left hand on his arm and he let out a deep breath, holding you even tighter but so at ease. His breathing hot on your skin, the beating of his heart calm but deep and strong against your back. Silence remains as the long seconds passes by.

Osamu can be a man of words, he's not afraid nor hesitant to say what he thinks or what he truly means, but in this moment, he knows there's nothing needed to be said more than—"I'm sorry." His voice in a deep murmur.

Your head tuts aside gently, the blankness of your gaze melting soft as your hand on his arm then begins to merely caress him there. "I know." Is what you only say.

Osamu breathes out a hum deeply as he nuzzles his face on your neck, inching himself up to your chin to the side of your face, inhaling you. It's only been a mere day and yet he misses you so much. His heart begins to race despite the calmness of the moment, it never failed to do so whenever he holds you, but maybe an exception tonight as knowing his mistake was gracefully forgiven. Nevertheless, it took him a few more push for him to say his remaining gnawing thoughts. Fingers pressing on your stomach, his mouth beginning to caress your cheek. "Thank you for not going. And I'm sorry because of it." He tells softly in between in the trailing of his lips on you.

Your lips could almost smile but it didn't as they remain as calm, nonetheless, your eyes melt more and more to its fondness for him. Again, "I know." Is what you only say. Gently, your head falls to his own as he then stops kissing you to lean and nuzzle his head onto your own. Your caressing hand on him never stops, eyes closed and hearts near to beating the same way as silence made itself known again.

All that burdens you both fades into something more to be easily carried despite its heaviness.

Osamu speaks then, as softly, "Can you turn around?"

You did so, and now you face each other close while still sitting on the floor. His hands finding your own as he never breaks gaze with you, drinking you in at last once again. How he missed you, the amount of time to him is nonexistent.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

How deep his eyes for you always threaten you to look away, but you never do; seeing what you think you are, the parts of you that gnaws you--afraid of you to see that in his very eyes. And he does. He has before. And always will. Before you could turn your eyes away from him, you see the adoration in them, just as the first time you saw them in him, for you.

"I am now." You answer, your voice just as soft.

"When will you go again?" He asks once more.

Your gazes remains held, you couldn't bear to look away. "Maybe soon." You answer simply and he nods. Before he let go of your one hand, trailing it up to your neck so as to pull you closer for him to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Ya better bring home lots of souvenirs," he remarks, his face still close to you. You only laugh so breathlessly against his cheek and he smiles, his cheek rising against your mouth, few tears falling from your eyes and rolls down on him. His smile doesn't falter nonetheless. Happy you were both. "I missed you."

"'ve missed ya, too." He spoke clearly, before he pulls away lightly to take a look at you again. You gaze at each other once more, letting go of your held hands so as for him to cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs gently wiping your tears away.

He'll make it up to you. He doesn't need to say it because he will.

Your eyes stays as glazed while his own as calm and of that lazy look. The roughness of his hands sculpts against your tears stained chubby cheeks.

He doesn't know who to thank for such a blessing. To have a beloved gaze upon you like the way you give your eyes to him. But there you are anyways. So he figures, it's only you to thank for.

"Beautiful." Osamu spoke. It took a lot from you to not tear off your face from his grasp, let alone his boring gaze.

"Don't." You try. Of course, yet again, he didn't listen.

"Lovely." As a thumb of his softly glides on your lips.

"Stop."

"Pretty."

He strips you off with only his eyes, washing your doubts you didn't even know that was there. "Osamu."

"Mine." He murmurs as his thumb slides in your mouth, dragging it down gently on your teeth up front open, reaching until it presses on your tongue. Your mouth agape by the finger, your gaze close to turning little, your breath hitching. "Pretty." He breathes, his head tilting as his eyes never parts from you—sliding his thumb even further, "Like this." The smallest of whimper escaping you and you saw how his jaw clenched at that, a rough breathing sound following from his throat.

The view before him is new. Good. Saliva begins to gather more in your mouth, he feels and sees. He'd want to see you like that more often, satisfying to his eyes, a good way to keep his fingers warm as well. He keeps his finger pressing there, only staring at you, staring at how your drool pools more in your cavern, little drops of it escaping from your lips, rolling down to your chin.

Yeah, he'll really want to see and have you more the way he is doing right now.

And you can't deny the goodness of the slow moment you both are having. How you let yourself be gazed upon in such a way.

While Osamu's heart begins to waver of that steady rhythm the longer he made you remain in the state you're in. Everything he feels seeping in. Surfacing from the depths of the beginning of you both. It's heavy. Deeper than he thought he could have carried in such a short time.

It's terrifying. He welcomes it freely.

Slowly, he retracts his thumb, a thin line of saliva following and a sheet of it covers his finger as he lays it on just your chin--before he kisses you.

Slow and gentle. His first kiss of the day he takes, the first kiss you share after you both made up, the first kiss you share with the revelation found in him--unbeknownst to you. Osamu kisses you as if it was his last to be. He gives and holds his kiss deeply, lasting. A way to be heard of his specifically unspoken words for now.

However, you remain to be blissfully unaware of it; seeing this of nothing new as it's normal for you for him to be like that--and he knows. So it wouldn't be too long for him change that.

As you pull away, a little breathless, blinking the fluster away in your eyes. "I should fix this up and prepare for dinner." You said. Reluctantly but he doesn't let you feel it, he lets you free yourself from his arms as you stand up. Osamu keeps his eyes on you gather the art materials you've used.

As much as he would always praise what you create, as much as he'd always think it to be beautiful of whatever you make--the art is already before his eyes, not on the frame.

He does what he does whenever he takes you in, how an admirer would be in art gallery. Quiet. Intent. Deep.

Flesh rippling with every little move you make. Your round upper body snuggled well by your little top, breasts hanging free against the fabric, as well as showing a little of the fat of your tummy. Your bloomers too short and tight on you. A wonder for him. Your ever wide thighs. Dent and marks painted on your skin. Along that, he sees what his mouth and fingers left on you from before a few days. Even more beautiful with what he marks on you. He'll always prefer you to be marked by him.

"If you're done staring at me." Your voice breaks him out of his trance.

"I won't ever be." He replies simply.

A little laugh you echo at that while you walk back to him, now standing in front of him as he remains sitting there with his legs crossed on the floor.

You above him is divine to be. Maybe he's religious as he wonders so. At least when he gazes up at you while you look down upon him. A goddess of his.

Both of your hands comes to one another on your bodies; yours on his hair and face, while his on your legs. You'd be lying to yourself if you say you didn't like it when he's beneath you. At times like this, is where you question where he lies on higher beliefs--because the way he offers his eyes to you.....could be described as when one worships their divine being.

Osamu sees the little rose of your chest with your mouth parting ever so slightly, the gentle wonder in your eyes. He can't get enough of it.

Finding your voice, "What do you wanna have for dinner?" You asked, gently petting his hair and caressed his cheek.

A deep but short breath he took as he welcomes your doting on him. His fingers firmly caressing on your legs, slowly working their way up. "You know the answer to that." You wonder why you still asked.

You didn't roll your eyes instead you narrowed them, "I'm serious." It was hard to be as his hands crept up higher, reaching to your thighs, tingling sensations coming through.

He almost smiled. "So am I."

"You're so annoying." You sighed, raking your fingers through his hair. Such happiness in the little moment you both have.

Such happiness.

Maybe it was time.

"Osamu—"

"I love you."

Your voices met one another, his just with more.......conviction. You faltered. He didn't. He doesn't. He remains steeled just of his resolve.

The soft disbelief on you. You didn't know if you ever hoped for him to say it sooner, there wasn't anything bad if he didn't say it for the mean time either, but--the joy that blooms in you couldn't be brighter. Such simple words, how heavy it tolls on you.

Your hands gently cupped his face, still as silent you were, the words you were about to say now lost. Osamu nestles his head on your palms, never breaking gaze. He feeds off the awe you uncontrollably portray. He'll do anything so as to have you keep doing that only for him. The way your nose takes a breath, going from your mouth with your chest following as it rise, your voice remaining unfound. It's addicting to see those little things. and it's freeing to say those words, so he says it again. "I love you."

Heavily dazed but ever awake, your eyes never dare to blink, tears starting to sting, the walls of your throat threatening to crumble.

Osamu feels every little twitch. Feels it all. He wants more. He stays nestling his head on your palms, keeping his smile at bay with his unfazed look. "I love you." His voice now bright.

An ask to be answered.

Your tears fell, blinking slowly as you broke from your trance with a broken smile and breathless laughter. You cradle his face so lovingly as he held you the same. His arms tightly hugging your legs, hands gripping your thighs. Loved. And there your answer for him. with little more breaths, carrying the weight of all what you feel--"I love you." Voice almost to nothing from how breathless it was, nevertheless it graces his ears, finally letting his smile move on his lips.

"Again." It's sweet. Too sweet how you ever so slowly lit up as he said that.

"I love you." He can't stop himself from smiling more as you repeat them, his cheeks growing in your palms. Too rare. A smile of his that makes your heart hurt every time. Lips etched up lazily, little of his teeth showing.

"Again."

"I love you."

At the same time again.

You didn't think that his smile couldn't get bigger but it did. It's brighter than you ever seen before from him.

While he stays high in your gaze.

"I love you."

"I love you."

He now kneels, never tearing off his hold on you nor of his eyes. Osamu finds that there is glory in kneeling. And if there's anything Osamu loves more than food, it's winning. So he reigns in victory as he kneels before you.

So you let him have what he wants—his dinner.

Letting go of his face, he gently dives down on your legs, falling his lips there all over. "I love you," he murmurs with each breath he takes on your skin. "I love you." His hands squeezes your thighs repeatedly while your keeps caressing his hair. "I love you." His eyes began to flutter heavily, never stopping of working his mouth on you, dizzying himself by you. "I love you." He groans, his voice dragging deeply as he drags his face all over your flesh.

You could only look down at him as he tranced himself, look at him so fondly as he indulges himself, seeing him deeply enjoying of what he does—you let yourself feel all what you've been feeling since the moment he held you. Heat brewing in your belly, melting down into your cunt, slicking through your folds, soaking a little sticky patch in your panties.

It wouldn't be too long for him to feast upon it.

And he knows. Osamu already knew your body was working even before he began, his meal prepared for him. "Fuck, I love you." In a loud groan, he breathes as he pressed his face on your thigh again, firmly rubbing his cheeks there. His hands holding onto the back of your thighs goes up ever slowly to your ass--a deep hitch of breath you inhale. He slides in through your shorts and panties, fingers strongly massaging your ass cheeks, while he keeps making a mess down on you.

"Fuckin' love yer thighs so much," he swore, his voice gone rougher from his never ending groans that he moans. Although that much has been known between you both he never gets used to it, nor do you. Not when he relishes his teeth on your fat with each bite. It's almost no different from a beast breaking its fangs through its prey to feed.

His sheer thirst he strongly satiate has your cunt aching so much, but still, you let him enjoy more a little longer. Keeping in your plea with your breathy sounds of elation. And despite how deep Osamu is in indulging himself, he knows your needs, though that's in the back of his mind for now--eyes dead set on the abundant offering for him. The last feast he'll have for later.

A mistake of thought you had.

For now, he continues to worship your thighs. Thick trails of his saliva from strings to drops dribbling down. No territory left unexplored as he takes the back of your limbs as well. Your hands in his hair keeps on shaking, your lower body twitching, trying not to flinch away from him.

Even then, he only continues to repeat what he's been doing. Nuzzling and rubbing his face all over so harshly, inhaling roughly while he licks his tongue with each move. His groping hands on your ass not stopping as well. He's too much all at once. Standing again, no less.

If not for Osamu's strength, you would have been long lying on the floor. Still, he continues for more, your wordless whines for him to stop unheard, muted by his own hungry sounds.

By now you're a leaking mess, not of just your pussy completely soaked, but your limbs covered with sheet of sweat along with his drool everywhere. Even his face you see and feel that it's wet, of course, he couldn't care less. The flesh of your ass sore, thighs and legs all marked up, muscles already hurting.

In the short time of you and him being together, he was never this....eager, much more eager, that is. And he's only beginning. No mistake this time, you could already tell that when he actually begin you'll lose your damn mind--and you're about to.

As when you managed to pry off his face away from your thighs, your palms on his cheek again, looking at him. His hair so disheveled, pupils blown yet his eyes more droopy than usual, while he breathes so deeply and rough from his mouth, all over his face drips of his drool, his sweat and your own.

"My darling." You utter so breathily, a thumb of yours gently gliding on his chin to his lips, smearing the wetness on him there even more. So much for calming him down. If anything, he's getting worse. He's a babbling mess and when he's like that, there's no fight against it.

"Can I eat ya, angel?" He says as he keeps licking your thumb. The man has you gulping and breathing in the same state of his hunger with your awe to his needs. His want. "Please, sweetheart--need to have yer pussy s'bad. Can I, angel?" His eyes darted from your own to your cunt so close to his face.

Your breath and spit caught in your throat--you nod once. "Yeah, baby?" Your damn poor heart so tired from its jumping because of him.

He's already back at it. Kissing your thighs again before slowly pulling down your shorts--leaving you only in your panties, showing how damp your center is. "Fuck." He breathes in a rough groan as he beholds your mess.

"Only for me--"

"Always." Your voice managed to murmur amidst.

His gaze shooting up to you, as deeply. "I love you." He declared once again before he finally goes to his feast.

Never having yourself prepared for it.

Osamu's face buried up against your cunt, inhaling you so deep from his nose to his mouth, little slicks of your arousal he begins to taste, his soaked mouth wetting you more, eyes rolling back to his head. With your fingers immediately grasping on his hair, tightly pulling on it with a loud gasp flying out of you. Ever sensitive you are, and Osamu already so familiar with your body. Feeling how your clit twitches so slightly like a bunny's tail as his lips confines your cunt, his tongue stroking you so slowly, gathering his spit and your juices—before he gulps it eagerly deep.

"You've no idea how good you are for me." He says once he pulls away from you. He's a fucking dog. Heaving for breaths, it'd be no different if his mouth was foaming.

You have no response from that but could only look at him, already overwhelmed from his little start and yet wanting so much more. It goes by unsaid.

Samu's one hand goes to your panty, grasping around in the center and pulled the cloth up tightly, the line slitting through your folds and shows your hair painted of your wetness there. His teeth finding his lip as he does so, your clit and hole fluttering from the small but impactful tease. "Samu..." You whined, almost.

Not minding it, not caring from how you're gripping his hair, "So fucking pretty." He murmurs as he toys with your damn cunt by pulling on your panty continously. You'd gape at him for how almost ridiculous what he was doing if not of you finding it so good to see, let alone feel.

Your calls of his name just slipping out of his ears, continuing what he does. "Look at you." Barely a whisper from him as he let go of your panty, now laying his thumb on your slit to your clit, rubbing it against the wet fabric. You hissed a breath, bearing his not so tease, knowing how he can be just so entranced with what he does. "Fuck." He curses again while he keeps the pad of his digit rubbing hard on your cunt, before eyeing at the string of your slick from your mound to his thumb as he slowly stops.

Finally, your body eases in his hold, already worn out. "Shit--shit." You whisper to yourself, from your weakened state and knowing what was to come next.

You liked him below you as he praises you, yes, but you couldn't deny that were was so much struggle with his found liking for the specific position; having to bear the tiredness off yourself along with so much pleasure to it. Especially by how he was far into it. Your little hole parted open by two of his fingers as his tongue glides in halfway through your walls, while his lips suckles on your folds sloppily. 

Osamu finds himself swimming in the ocean without a care for time, nor of anything, not even of your sounds of ache to come to finally be done, let alone how much you've been trembling in his hold. There's just so much to revel in his love for you through his worship. Such a thing should never be rushed just for the sake of satisfaction. He intends to grasp and freeze this bliss, for you to always have him engraved in the very depths of your being.

With hooded eyes, he looks up at you and sees how much of a mess you are. Still, he only remains the same of his slow but hard pace, only making the knot of your release just boiling as he keeps his tight hold on you, not even letting you move against nor away from him. But, seeing your continously flowing tears and hearing your endless whines, is very much of a reward for him anew. So, "Grind on me."

And that was all that it fucking took for you to finally break. Lost in your tiredness and ache for relief; you do what he said--grind on his damn mouth. Letting yourself use him so desperately, the way he wants you to. Your fingers have never let go of his hair from the start, pulling on it so much repeatedly while you move your hips and have your cunt drag hard on him.

He flows against your rapid waves easily, at last meeting your desperation by his unwavering conviction. No uncharted waters could prevent him from taking up eternity with you.

With enough time, from all he's doing and yours, you finally found yourself dropping to the highest edge of pleasure.

In a sea of one could suffocate—Osamu has never breathed so freely.

No, you could never indeed doubt him.

[miasmaghoul]

There is so much talk of creaming jorts on my blog right now and you know, it gave me a devious idea:

Mountain (or another ghoul of your choosing ofc, but it is still march haha) is getting close to the start of a rut, which has them feeling a little posessive a packmate pre-ritual. Like he needs to claim them a little to scratch the itch under their skin. What if they were having a sneaky make out session before curtain call and he unbuckled the others belt, creamed into their jorts undies and buckled them back up, just in time for them to feel him all ritual?

Gross.

I love it.

Leaned more into the possessive side of things, hope you don't mind!

(This has been sitting in my drafts for months I'm SO SORRY pretend it's still March shhhh)

Mountain breathes deep through his nose, trying to focus on the book in his hand as the van trundles down the road toward tonight's venue. It's some pulpy crime novel he'd grabbed at the last airport they visited, something intended to distract more than entertain, but despite being more than halfway through it Mountain couldn't name a single character if he tried.

He can't help it. Can't think about anything but the way every inch of him has started to buzz, how the very air around him hums.

There's a specific sort of pressure in the back of his head. Rigidity in the muscles along his spine. A disquieting tingle that's come to settle into his gut. It all speaks to one thing, and it couldn't be coming at a worse time.

It had started last night, a sharp spike of nearly painful arousal that had hit him in the middle of the night. Had roused him from an otherwise very sound sleep and jolted him so badly that the oversized ghoul had hit his head on the ceiling of his bunk. It hardly registered, Mountain honed in exclusively on the sudden, urgent need for release.

Rock hard and leaking already, he'd wasted no time in shoving his hands into his sleep sweats, gripping himself and pumping his hips into the tight channel of both fists. Forced to bite his tongue to mute the harsh groan threatening to escape his throat when he blew in a matter of seconds, eyes shut so tight that colors bloomed behind his lids.

It happened again in the bus shower this morning, Mountain struck by a wave of need so intense that he'd doubled over and nearly slipped. He'd lasted a little longer that time, not that he'd needed to, and the wet sound of his soapy hand flying over his cock still echoed in his ears. That one had left him dizzy, left him panting against the shower wall while he watched his load swirl down the drain.

There really are few things worse than an unexpected rut.

He knows that the others know, but most of them don't acknowledge it. He'd caught them all staring at different points, nostrils flared, but they were quick to look away. Dew, Rain, Cirrus and Cumulus did their best to be sly about it, furtive glances cast during casual conversation. Aeon and Aurora weren't quite so subtle - he could smell the pair of them from down the length of the bus. Could see Aeon getting chubby in his too-tight jeans and Aurora squeezing her thighs together. Both tempting in their own ways, to be sure.

But then there was Swiss.

Swiss, who he'd heard noisily tugging at himself in the bunk below while he came down from his first orgasm.

Swiss, who had been standing bright-eyed and grinning just outside the bathroom after Mountain's shower.

Swiss, who had spent the entire morning tossing him hungry glances and touching him at every possible opportunity.

Swiss, who now sits pressed tightly to his side in the cramped van while Mountain does his damnedest to ignore the heat of his body, the spice of his cologne and the weight of the hand on his knee.

Mountain can hardly think for how badly he wants. Wants to wrench Swiss's arm behind his back, get a hand in his hair and shove his tongue down his throat. Wants to tug Swiss into his lap in front of everyone and feel him up, wants to suck deep, dark marks into his neck while he grinds against his ass. Wants to get Swiss's strong legs over his shoulders, wants to get so deep inside that Swiss can't do anything but writhe and beg for his -

"You're growling, big guy," Swiss informs him, voice silken gravel, and Mountain nearly tears his book in half. He gives the other ghoul a sidelong glance, and Mountain knows that if they weren't glamoured Swiss would be smiling with every fang in his mouth. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Mountain doesn't deign to answer him, instead choosing to stare at the page he hasn't turned in the last ten minutes. To pretend his dick isn't hard as granite and leaking into the two pairs of too-tight underwear he'd shoved himself into.

He's first out of the van when they finally pull up to the amphitheater, sucking down heavy lungfuls of fresh, summertime air in an effort to clear his head. To wash away the heady scent of smoky whiskey, black pepper and bitter herbs stuck in his nose. To allow himself to think about anything but the familiar warmth of Swiss's body.

About the way he always holds himself open when Mountain bends him over. The way he moans in that deliciously whorish way when Mountain pushes in. The way Swiss's voice drops to a rasp and his breathing goes shallow when Mountain grips those narrow hips with bruising force. The way he grabs at his own hair when Mountain fucks him just right. The way Swiss's pretty little hole stretches around his -

"Mount!"

Rain's voice shakes him from his stupor, and as his cock pulses and leaks to memories of Swiss, Mountain hurries over to join his packmates. Rain gives him a worried look.

"Hey, you alright?" He reaches out to touch Mountain's arm, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know you're, uh..." he makes a vague southward gesture, "...struggling."

"I'm fine," Mountain grumbles, not so subtly adjusting himself and hoping he hasn't soaked a wet spot into his jeans. He catches a whiff of warm spice and old weed, and as Swiss breezes past them Mountain can practically feel his pupils narrow.

Rain seems less than convinced when Mountain proceeds to crack his knuckles, but he drops the subject nonetheless. They head inside together, and Mountain does his best to put on his game face.

He still stops in a bathroom along the way, unable to erase the image of Swiss stretched and keening from his mind. He spills into the toilet with the other ghoul's name on his tongue, and huffs out an irritated sigh when no relief follows.

This is going to be a very long show.

Still though, the hours between arrival and showtime pass in a blur. Soundcheck comes and goes, as do their myriad meetings with venue staff and conversations with their techs.

Through it all, Mountain can feel golden eyes boring into him. In the halls, on stage, in the dressing room. Mountain does his best to ignore the weight of Swiss's gaze as he applies his face paint, but the only other thing he can think of is the red-hot tangle of urgency between his legs. He meets Swiss's eyes in the vanity mirror as he slips on his helmet, the other ghoul peering at him over Rain's shoulder while they chat across the room.

He offers a wink through his lenses, and Mountain's balls ache.

The call comes for ten minutes til showtime, and the others make their way from the dressing one by one. Swiss doesn't so much as move from his position against the wall. Mountain can feel his breaths coming quicker as Aurora and Cumulus share a sideways hug, the door clicking shut behind them, and then they're alone.

They're alone, and Swiss grins.

Mountain's across the room in two stride, and before Swiss can so much as breathe he's pinned to the wall by his throat. Mountain snarls in his face, leaning in until he can feel Swiss' breath on his lips, hot and tobacco tinged.

"Why must you always insist on being such a fucking tease?"

Swiss' lips curl up at the corners despite the pressure on his neck, and something predatory prickles at the back of Mountain's mind.

"Not my fault you're thrown' off pheromones like crazy," he said, just a little strained. Swiss rolls his hips towards his pelvis and Mountain's stomach gives a mighty swoop. "Can't blame me for wanting a taste."

Swiss licks at the air, breathes deep, and Mountain squeezes his throat so tight his eyes roll back.

"Can't even ask for what you want, can you?" The taller ghoul's other hand finds Swiss' belt and Mountain unbuckles it with aggresive fingers. He knows he's growling as best he can through his glamour, and the way Swiss shivers says he gets the message. "Too stupid to use your words? Just have to be a fucking tease about it?"

Swiss gives him a hurried nod as he swallows against the pressure of Mountain's palm, and he grunts when Mountain yanks his pants and briefs down in one go. A rough hand gropes his rapidly thickening cock, and Swiss visibly winces, eyes bright.

"Don't make that face." Mountain pulls his hand from Swiss' growing chubby to unzip his own pants, to fish himself out through his already stained briefs. "You asked for this." He groans at his own touch, cock hot and heavy in his hand. He smears the wet tip of it over Swiss' shaft and the sensation wrenches a moan from him.

Swiss licks his lips, nods again as his eyes drift south, and as Mountain starts to stroke himself he chokes out a pained huff. Mountain's hold on the other ghoul's throat never slackens, not even as his chest starts to heave while his cock jumps. He pulls at himself with firm tugs, each one sounding slicker than the last. Swiss lets his helmet thud back against the wall, hands coming up to rest on Mountain's forearm. He rocks forward and Mountain growls, can't keep himself from pressing closer. From crowding Swiss to the wall and bumping his fat cock with every pass of his fist.

"I'm going to give you something special." They're close enough that Swiss's breath clouds his lenses. Mountain's balls are starting to go tight already, the tension settled into every part of his body melting into tingly heat that has his shoulders sagging. "Something to think about while you're dancing like a whore for all those people."

He works himself hard and fast, the urgent heat in his veins threatening to set his skin alight. Swiss's ignored cock bobs and bounces, the other ghoul gripping his choking arm tight and spitting tight curses through clenched fangs every time Mountain nudges it.

"Touch me," Swiss manages to spit, blunt nails digging through his shirt. He bucks as best he can, but all that accomplishes is a brief bump against Mountain's fist. "Mount - Mount you gotta -"

He gurgles when Mountain squeezes him into silence, huffing while he polishes his leaking tip.

"Shut up," he bites out, teeth clenched chest heaving. "Sluts don't get to make demands."

For once in his life, Swiss keep his mouth shut.

It's no time at all before Mountain's balls draw up, his hips twitching in animalistic jerks. He grunts with every stroke, brow knit behind his mask, and the closer he gets the better Swiss's strained gurgling sounds.

"Gonna make sure they all know you're mine."

Swiss's cock spits a blurt of pre that hits his stroking hand, and with an impossibly deep moan Mountain shoots in thick ropes that splatter against his cock, balls and muscular thighs. Heavy streaks that cling to heated skin and coarse hair. That leave him filthy and marked in a way that has Swiss's knees wobbling. Mountain doesn't release his throat until his cock dribbles its last, and the deep, starved breath Swiss sucks in is musc to Mountain's ears.

He steps away while Swiss catches his breath and struggles to keep his legs under him, heads back to vanity to clean himself up. He hisses as the hand towel he finds scratches at his sensitive flesh, and in the mirror Swiss catches his eyes once more.

"Just gonna leave me like this?" Swiss pants, gesturing at his flushed, messy cock. He sounds surprised, and Mountain really can't imagine why. A pearly stripe drips, beads up to leave a stain in his undies that has Mountain drooling.

"Deal with it," he rumbles in response, tucking himself away and fastening his belt. "I want to smell it on you tonight."

He has the pleasure of watching Swiss' eyelids droop behind his lenses at the timbre of his voice, rich with intent. Mountain grabs his sticks and heads to join the others, and the sound of Swiss's zipper makes him smirk. There's something deeply satisfying about leaving him sticky and wanting, and even though he's hard again halfway through Kaisarion Mountain finds it easy to lose himself in his musicmaking.

Until Watcher in the Sky comes up and he makes the mistake of peeking over at Swiss's platform while Dew's guitar wails. Finds him on his knees and elbows with his ass in the air.

As both of his sticks splinter in half, Mountain swears he's going to make Swiss cry tonight.

It's what the slut deserves.

[satorubi]

𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄 — FT. GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS ⋮ you give gojo a very special gift for his birthday.

— CW ⋮ f! reader, dom! gojo, established relationship au, cum tasting, breeding, blowjob, tittyfucking, doggystyle, usage of profanity, usage of pet names such as love/slut/pretty girl

— NOTES ⋮ i posted this a while ago but tumblr removed it so here i am reposting. some things have been revised and edited. anyway, happy early bday to the one and only satoru <333

the faint sound of pnd’s her way echoed off of the walls as gojo stepped foot into your high-rise apartment. he could place together a smell of his favorite dishes, an incent you always burned, and the delicious chanel fragrance he loved to breathe in when embracing you.

“baby? you here?” he calls out, growing a bit anxious when he hears no response.

setting his keys on the counter, he wandered into your bedroom. to his surprise, he found his pretty girlfriend dressed in nothing but a thin piece of laced lingerie. it was white— his favorite color on you, with your hair curled just how he liked it and body oil covering your shape; making it glisten.

“like what you see?” you question, an innocent gaze in you as eyes as you peered up at his lengthy stance. he could barely utter out a sentence, you looked almost edible.

“all this for me?” he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing his lips onto yours. before he could get too excited, you placed your hands on his chest to shun him away.

“not so fast, birthday boy. we have pasta to eat. i spent a good amount of time on it too,” you comment. gojo’s tongue runs across the bottom of his lip before placing another kiss onto your lips.

“ah, i kinda got a taste for somethin’ else. somethin’ soft, and wet,” he says in between pecks. you giggle, not dismissing his serious facial expression. don’t get him wrong, he adored your cooking. he would’ve much rather had your homemade dishes than the nasty bar food he had earlier with his friends, but you just looked too fucking good.

“no. i want you to eat before it’s cold—“

“and i’m gonna’ eat it,” he cuts off, “i just want a little appetizer first.”

gojo’s lips meet yours again, only this time, more slowly than the last. it felt like he was sucking at your lips rather than kissing them. you could taste the cool mint flavor on his tongue, the gum he had in his mouth still being there as he tongued you down.

you sat up from your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, nails scratching at his fresh undercut. the smacking of both your lips only grew louder as the heated make out session continued. you moaned and he groaned, a hand coming down to palm your ass cheek. he juggled the flesh in his hands before pulling his lips from yours to catch a breath.

“what do you say, baby? gonna’ let me get a taste? i know you want one too.”

and of course, you whisper “yes,” causing a smile to form on his lips. he kissed you once more before sending a smack to your ass, your mind already knowing what he wants. with your stomach meeting the silk sheets, your ass perked high into the air, waiting for him to make any type of move.

“god, it’s so fuckin’pretty,” he breaths, undoing the drawstring of his grey sweatpants. you could hear his heavy cock spring out and make a thud against his stomach. you began to whine and wiggle your ass, trying to get him to put it in already, but he wanted to take his time with you tonight.

his slender fingers eventually found their way to your hole, letting him curl and jolt in and out of you steadily. “this pussy’s so we. ready for me aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“g-gojo that feels s’good,” you whimper, extending your arms out in front of your to grip at the mattress. his fingers continue to feel the insides of your sopping cunt, a smirk growing on his lips as he watched you begin to fuck his fingers. your whimpers had him twitching— literally. the pretty cock attached to his shaft began to jump a bit at the sight of you.

“i can’t wait to taste you,” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear making you clamp around his fingers. “can’t wait to fill you full.”

“wanna’ taste you too gojo.”

he chuckles, “yeah? such a slut f’ me. how bout’ i fuck that pretty face of yours?”

you'd practically nodded before he could finish his sentence, smiling as you climbed out of bed and onto your knees. your hands sat on your lap as you waited for the green light from him, as giddy as ever.

“someone’s excited, like suckin’ my dick that much?”

you laugh, taking his big cock in your small hand and placing it directly on top of your face—his length almost reaching the top of your forehead, “only yours.”

gojo grins, flexing his lower abdomen to make his cock thump and move against your face causing you to smile blissfully. within a blink of an eye, your tongue licked a long stripe from his base to his tip making him give you a small, ‘shit’ under his breath. his white tank top has now risen just above his tummy, gojo holding on to the fabric with his teeth.

it was a heavenly view for the both of you.

the sounds of your sucking made his cock dance in your mouth, the twitching making you laugh around him, “feels good, hm? don’t squirm so much,” you joke, latching your mouth back onto him swiftly. the scene of you bobbing your head left him speechless.

“i can’t help it, baby. you do this shit so well— do the little thing you do— yeah, yes, yes,” he mumbles as you swallow him whole. the tip of him hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. as you pulled away, a trail of saliva followed behind you. and you slurped it right back up, now suckling on his tip as if it were candy.

“you’re a fuckin’ gem,” he praised, “love watchin’ you be such a slut, sweetheart. you look so pretty doin’ this to me.”

you pulled your mouth away with a pop and batted your lashes, “yeah? gonna cum for me, satoru?” using both hands to stroke him, you maintained eye contact while muttering praises of encouragement.

“wait, wait, wait, baby. i wanna’ try somethin’,” he hisses, pulling back from your hold. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sudden stop, “scoot back against the wall and take your bra off.”

despite the many questions that popped into your head, you obliged— doing exactly as he told. you still had drool all over your lips from earlier, but you were ready for more— you were going to get exactly that, too.

without wasting any more time, gojo guided your hands to your breasts, mumbling a simple “hold em’ like this,” as he pushed them together. at first, you sat there still dazed, but then he began to stick his cock in between the two, thrusting upwards slowly.

he was titty fucking you.

it was something he’d always thought about but never acted on. it wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, but it never came up in conversation. seeing how aroused he’d gotten from the gesture makes you think you should’ve done it a long time ago.

“god-fuckin’-damn,” he groans, throwing his head back in pure delight. his hands moved to cup your face as his cock slid between your tits, the already oily skin making it easier for him to pick up speed. “could do this all day—fuck.”

by the look on his face, gojo could feel his tummy boiling over with pleasure like a pot on a stove. you knew he hated cumming before you, claiming it was ‘embarrassing’ but he couldn’t exactly help it. his lips were slightly parted and small suppressed whimpers threatened to escape mouth, completely in awe. he was trying to hold off but everything felt entirely too good.

“ohh—fuck! i’m cumming, baby— aah,” he moaned, a little bit louder than he intended to. spurts of white painted your chest like a canvas as you watched your boyfriend stare down at you with a smile on his face.

you gently let go of your tits, releasing gojo’s aching cock. out of curiosity, your two fingers slowly scoop some of his dripping ecstasy from your chest and into your mouth, sucking on your fingers to get a quick taste. “mmh, made me all messy, satoru,” you giggle.

he kisses you gently, not really giving a fuck and tasting himself on your lips. after all, it was his mess and he liked to clean up after himself. “i’m bout’ to do it again, get on the bed. spread those legs too, wanna’ see my pretty pussy,”

his pretty pussy— the words making you all the more damp as you climb onto the mattress, ass up face down position of course; gojo’s favorite. the white thong that hid between your cheeks was now pulled to the side to reveal your glistening cunt, leaving gojo’s dick hurting from the throb.

“hold it open. i wanna’ get a closer look,” he instructed. your pretty nails helped spread your ass open, two pretty holes staring back at him, “fuckin’ masterpiece.”

cheeks growing warm, you whine, “put it in gojo— fuck.”

a small swat to your right cheek shut you up rather quickly, “don’t be like that. it’s my birthday, lemme’ admire my cake,” he teased, the pun only making you whip around and glare at him.

gojo spat on your pussy and his dick while holding his large cock in his hands after what felt like an eternity of torture. his tip brushed against your opening as he cautiously slipped inside you. it felt like he was tapping on your barricade, asking to be let in. he was so wide, but you handled the stretch like an expert.

“open up for me.”

“ouuu-gojo! slower baby, y-you’re too big,” you whine, earning a deep chuckle from him as he gently stroked your pussy. the creamy sounds of him sliding in and out of you made your eyes travel to the back of your head as you whispered his name.

“c’mon sweet thing, you got it.”

the rasp in his voice had your heart fluttering— your pussy too; hips beginning to move, pussy gliding along his cock. gojo softly began to match your pace. his cock was being pulled in and out of you and you loved every second of it, “i-it feels good toru,” you whine, “so, so fucking good, baby.”

your compliments were like a green light, and gojo’s hips began to accelerate as your ass made a thunderous clap with each thrust. the heat of your cunt around him caused you to hear sounds from gojo that you had never heard before. he was completely engrossed in the paradise in front of him.

to gojo satoru, this was heaven and you were indeed an angel.

he’d realized how thankful he was to have someone like you. someone so sweet and attentive and observant— everything he’d ever wanted. fuck all of the presents and the material things. seeing you like this was one of the best gifts he could’ve ever received.

“eughh—toruu! r-right there,” you plead. he was so gravitated toward you— your ass jiggling with everyone meeting to his pelvis, the pretty cries you let out, the gushing sound of your cunt fucking him back mercilessly— satoru fucking adored you.

“right here?” he asks, pushing down on your lower back as he fucked you into the mattress, “gonna’ fuck a baby into this pretty lil’ cunt, you’d like that wouldn’t you pretty girl?”

“t-toruuu—feel like m’ gonna- like m’ gonna’ c-cum,” you whisper. you tensed as his hand reached around you and under your pudge, lifting your hips to fix your broken arch. he then wrapped both hands around your neck, bullying his cock into from behind while using your throat for balance.

“yeah? gonna’ cum on me like a good girl?” his erotic words didn’t fail to make your body shudder as small droplets of your euphoria shot from your hole; juices covering both gojo’s cock and lower belly as he continued to hit it from behind.

you could barely utter a word due to his grip on your neck— but you loved it all. the moan you could let out sounded more like a grunt as your eyes crossed in a daze.

“aah— knew you could do it, pretty girl, always take me so well. l-love you s’much, gonna’ cum. where do you want—fuck— want it baby?” he asks, only seconds away from his orgasm.

“in, in, in! mmm—cum in me!”

swiftly, gojo pulled you against him, your back coming into contact with his chest as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. as he placed tiny kisses on your neck and shoulder, gojo grazed his tip against that perfect spot about twice more before completely letting himself go. his warmth spilled into you, filling you full as he tried not to be so loud. although you couldn’t look into his eyes at that exact moment, gojo made it as intimate as ever.

“god, you’re perfect, so perfect—y/n, fuck!”

the two of you stayed in that position for bit until gojo came down from his pleasure rush. the grip your cunt had on his cock was still so tight as he slowly pulled out of you, mind dizzy from the intensity of his climax. you laid limp on the mattress as gojo took comfort directly next to you, pulling your now sore body into his chest.

“thank you,” he mumbles, taking in the way your pretty doe eyes look at him with nothing but admiration.

“for what?”

“for being the best gift i could ever ask for.”

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