#even though it has nothing to do with this

[reignpage]

Quick! Go Hide

in which you prank the sleeping jjk men by telling them, 'You need to hide; my boyfriend's home!'...saw it on tiktok heh

Satoru croaks, “Oh, shit. He is?” 

Groggily, he clambers out of bed and hides in the bathroom, bare feet padding. In the dark, he waits. Seconds pass and he shows no sign of realising what games you’re playing. When you go to collect him, you find him asleep, standing with his forehead pressed to the cold tile, drooling. 

“Is he gone?” He asks, voice raspy, shaken awake once again. You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “Good ‘cause I’m too tired to fight anyone…I’d win though.” 

Soon after, in bed, he continues sleeping. And it’s only in the morning that you find him grinning and prodding your puffy cheek. “That was really funny, babe. Ten out of ten. No notes.”

Suguru's brows furrow. Without opening his eyes, he mutters, “Nice try.”

“No, really. You gotta go; he’ll kill you.” A curse emerges, large and foreboding, just watching in the corner of the room. Shivers wrack your body. It doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, nor utter a single sound. Still, the message is clear. You roll your eyes and cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “You’re no fun.”

He tucks you in close. “Try again in the morning, pretty girl. I’m sure I’ll be more fun when I’m not half asleep.”

Choso startles awake, bloodshot eyes widening. “Oh no. What should we do?”

He lets you shove him into the closet, shirtless and hair a mess. There he stands patiently, shuffling on his feet and holding his breath. Then, when a minute passes, he has a moment of realisation. Creaking open, the closet door widens to reveal him – he looks unimpressed…and pouty. 

“I’m your only boyfriend; why do I need to hide?”

You giggle. “Sorry, Cho. It was just a joke.’

“I don’t really see what’s funny,” he grouches as he gets back into bed with you, wrapping his arms tight around your body and tucking his head in the crook of your neck, quickly forgetting your prank once his senses are overwhelmed with you. 

Toji peeks one eye at your faux panicked face. He shoves it away, grumbling under his breath about how much of a brat you are and shifts into a different position; he’s got his back turned to you now. Undeterred, you shake him one more time. “I’m being serious. You gotta hide, Toji.”

“Leave me alone, woman. I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now.”

You drape your entire body over his. His beefy arm comes around to keep you steady, in case you fall off the bed with your clumsy ass. “Okay, but if he beats you up and takes me away, your loss.”

He grunts. “I’d like to see anyone try.”

Then, to keep your mouth from disturbing his sleep any longer, he suffocates your face in between his pecs, a hand on your ass, groping it for compensation.

Kento jolts, hands grabbing you to push your body behind his. He scans the room, then the door, waits for the intruder, ready to defend. Only when he hears your stifled laughter does he truly process what you told him. He sighs, hand rubbing down his face. “Can’t sleep again, darling?”

“No. The baby keeps kicking me.” You smile when his warm palm caresses your stomach. 

Leaving a kiss on your forehead, he mutters, “I’ll give them a stern talking to; no child of mine hurts my wife. Now, would you like a midnight snack or should we stay up and watch the stars again?”

Lifted out of bed, he carries you in his arms, intent on keeping your bare feet from touching the cold floor. Even as sleep still courses through his veins, he’s determined to meet your every need – Kento couldn’t fall asleep again knowing you’re wide awake anyway. 

Sukuna doesn’t awaken. He’s as still as a corpse. You try again. And again. Nothing. When you pout and smack his chest, one of his four arms snatches your waist and slides you onto his huge body. Your ass is being patted, as is your head, and with another arm, he rubs your back. 

Calmly, his chest rumbles with his words. “All your previous partners are dead. No one will disturb us. Sleep.”

“Okay, Kuna…wait…no, they aren’t.”

He doesn’t reply, leaving you to wonder when he had the time to hunt them down one by one when he spends so much time never leaving your side in the first place. No answer comes to mind, not when his body can be so persuasive in pulling you to the land of slumber with him. Though, you are certain he whispers, ‘They will be,’ when he thinks you won’t hear. Try and follow up the next day though and he’ll shrug off your concerns with a, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

[damselneedssaving]

「 DON'T GET THE DOOR 」

OLDER!CLINGY!DAMIAN WAYNE X F!READER

★ SYNOPSIS: After days of being too busy to be intimate with you, Damian's finally got you propped up on the kitchen island, sweet and like putty in his hands, when a sudden knock sounds at the door... and he absolutely refuses to let you go and answer it.

★ TAGS: damian is 18+, suggestive content, nothing too much—just making out, and a bit more, damian is physically incapable of keeping his hands off you, srsly babe wtf did you do to him, dick and jason cameo at the end

★ A/N: just some dami hating everyone but you action 🤭 enjoy trying to get him off you lmao

line divider by @cafekitsune

Damian's gaze is heavy as it runs all over you, soaking you in with an intensity that makes you squirm on the counter, the marble cool against your bare thighs.

His hands are firm on your waist, sitting there like that's where they're meant to be—like they know no place else—as his chest moves to press up against your own, and his body stands situated right between your thighs, hot and present.

"I've missed you, Habibti," he whispers after a beat of just staring, and it comes out breathless, framed a little by disbelief, like he just can't fathom you're actually there.

You can only squirm in response, eyes ready to move to the side in all their bashful glory—when he ushers them back to him, fingers gentle against your chin.

"I've barely seen you these past few days—and now that I can, you choose to hide from me?"

You blink back at him, eyes wide and head shaking from side-to-side to convey what you can't with words, what you can't under the intensity of his gaze.

He hums, and he's so close now, so within kissing distance, that his breath fans over your face, minty and fresh, begging and pleading.

You don't even realise the way your lids grow heavy until it takes only half the time it usually does to shut them, until you're leaning forward and eager to meet him halfway as it registers to you just how much you've missed his touch.

Damian receives you with open arms, lips pressing against your own as he further pushes himself against you, hands now curling around your waist instead of situated at its sides.

All you can breathe is the scent of nature and cologne, drowning in all that is him until your head grows dizzy and your body begins to shake, until you're suffocating in heat and pounding need.

He kisses you like he's running out of time to, like at any minute, he'll be forced to pull away, hungry and desperate and left with an ache near impossible to fill.

He also kisses you like he has all the time in the world to, like he's taking in a piece of art, studying every inch until he has it etched into his mind forever.

It's too much—it's not enough—and you're left a panting mess when he pulls away, the air hot and heavy and seeping so much steam it practically fogs up your vision.

"Dami..."

He hums, lips now on your neck, having moved there as soon as he pulled away as though incapable of truly ever leaving you.

Your fingers move to card through his hair, and he groans right into your skin, just above a vein, sending a vibration straight through your body.

God, the moment is just so perfect, and you've just been so starved for attention, and everything in the world seems to just be going so right, that it feels wrong, like something will happen to ruin it all.

Something like a knock at your door.

At first, you think you're imagining it, because Damian continues to litter your skin with kisses like nothing's happened, his hands even beginning to roam beneath the hem of your shirt, touch light against your skin.

But then you hear it again, louder this time, and you're sure that it's real.

But Damian acts like it isn't.

His hands continue tracing patterns into your skin, lips painting your neck like it's one of his canvases as he worships you with all the devotion of a man begging for his life.

It's only when a third knock, even harder and louder than the former two, sounds from the door that he shows even a hint of acknowledgement, fingers digging into your sides, but not enough to hurt, your Damian would never hurt you.

"Damian!" a voice calls from the other side of the door, deep and insistent, "I know you're in there! Open up!"

"Would you be quiet?" another hisses right after, "People are looking."

You blink, pulling back a little, only for your boyfriend to chase after you.

Another knock at the door.

Damian growls into your skin just as you call softly, "Dami."

"Ignore those two idiots," he scoffs out with all the vitriol of a man wronged, one starved of something he's needed for far too long. "They'll leave eventually."

You nod, readily and easily because you don't particularly care for answering the door either. Not when he's holding you so sweet, and kissing you so right, and loving you like you're the only thing in his sight.

And you practically are with how he devours you, biting and sucking as he tastes you enough to shoot tingles down your spine and flood your veins with heat.

"Maybe he's not home," one of the two voices says, and you're just lucid enough to recognise it as Jason's.

"Oh he's home alright," the other responds, and you're quick to find that it's Dick.

But then all your lucidity washes out your veins because Damian's fingers start to crawl up your skin, and you're parting your lips to warn him with another call of his name.

"Dami—"

"Shh," he hushes you gently, and you know he doesn't mean it, soft and reverent as his hand reaches up to play with the band of your bra, lifting and snapping it back in place to send a jolt down your spine.

Your eyes dart to his, a heat pooling low in your stomach, and he simply meets your gaze with his own hooded one.

Then he moves to capture your lips again, and you're moaning low against his mouth, lips parting just a brief amount to let him in, when another huge bang slams against your door.

You pull back with a frantic, "Coming!"

Damian is already moving to try and capture your lips again, but you shut him down immediately, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

"Damian."

He growls, cursing beneath his breath in Arabic as he lingers a second longer, fingers curling against your skin. But he does ultimately let go, backing away enough to leave you room to hop off the counter, but not enough so that you can't feel the heat of him against you once you do.

And as you make your way towards the door, Damian follows right after, a shadow to his light, a knight to his princess.

A boyfriend to his girlfriend.

You swing open the door to two figures stood on the other side, both who you suspected them to be, wide-eyed and blinking as though they never thought you'd answer.

"Finally," Dick whines, lips jutted in a pout before they tug back up, flashing you one of his signature charming smiles. "Hey [Name]! Think Jason and I could crash—?"

"No."

A rush of wind flies over your face, the door to your apartment slamming shut before your very eyes to leave you dazed and a tad confused for a second.

Then a pair of arms wrap right around your waist, and that same voice that rejected the two brothers at your door is whispering right against your ear, hot and heavy, "Now... where were we?"

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[yanderenightmare]

The Rainbow as Boyfriends

♡ AN: from the Promptlist

♡ TW: fluff, different types of drugs, really soft yandere, if yandere at all

♡ FEM reader

Red is loud with a passion that comes across as aggressive to some. He’s charismatic and likeable, but can also be both narcissistic and judgmental, with a habit of butting in where he’s not wanted and flaking when the responsibility becomes too much.

He’s got red hair, but it might be fake—you’re not sure—gelled up in needles, and a cut on his right brow he most definitely had coming. 'Cause if you think he’s loud on the regular, you can bet he’s even louder when drunk. And Red loves getting drunk—bar-hopping and clubbing, he'll drink his fill and dance until the sweat pours, but will just as quickly square up and fight someone until they're both thrown out or taken and thrown inside the drunk tank. 

He’s got bloody knuckles and bruises everywhere—on top of tattoos he’s been collecting since he was fourteen—a patchwork of poor decisions he looks back on fondly. 

He’s got a lot of opinions and dies on random hills every day, but doesn’t remember any of them come morning. Fighting is a frivolous thing to him—he doesn’t think too much of it, and will sling his arms around the shoulders of someone he soccer-punched the night before. 

He doesn’t always get when or why people are upset with him, brushing it off, thinking they’ll get over it. That’s not to say he doesn’t apologize—he does—throws them around like they cost him nothing, because they don't. And he doesn’t get how that isn’t good enough.

He doesn’t bear any grudges himself, and those he does bear he buries so deep within himself that he never ever has to think about them—ones such as the torn relationship he has with his father and his first love. Forgotten. No longer his problem. 

You don’t think you’ve ever really seen him angry, but you can say the same for happy, and that's why you can't really bring yourself to fall in love with him, knowing you're only going to get yourself hurt. He’s too destructive to hold onto—always with a bright, big smile on his face, even when someone is shouting and throwing fists at him. 

You don’t know… You think he cries in bed when he can’t sleep. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Atsumu ♡ BLLK – Shido ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Togame

Orange is warm. Always pinging you if you want to go sunbathing.

As expected, he’s tan with ginger curls, freckle-faced and muscly, seizing any and all opportunities to take off his shirt. He’s a stickler for sunscreen, though, carrying one on him at all times and interrogating you about wearing it to the point of applying it without asking.

He hasn’t got a single tattoo, not even so much as a wave, despite his love for the beach—he's just never thought to spend money on it. But what he lacks in tattoos, he more than makes up for in scars. He’s a sporty guy—sort of reckless—happy-go-lucky, be it with a ball, frisbee, or a surfboard, and it has led to some interesting accidents and several stitches.

He’s also an avid ocean preserver. Collecting plastic from the sands and helping wildlife back into the water. He brought you along once, at midnight, when the tide was low. You'd collected stranded starfish and tossed them back into the waves.

You were drunk, but ever since you’ve been struck with this sense of guilt you’ve never had before. To think that starfish actually dry up and die once the tide pulls out is a horror you didn’t need to know.

But it only goes to show how sweet a guy Orange really is. He never made it to college because he’d already decided what he wanted to do a long time ago, planning on taking over the beach cafe where he’s worked his entire life. He calls the owner there his uncle, even though they aren’t related, and is practically running the place already.

He’s a simple guy with simple plans and simple dreams, but at the same time, you can’t help but feel as though he’s smarter than all the rest of you. He’s the guy who has it all figured out. You can’t tell if he’s actively decided to let go of all bigger ideas and dreams, or if he’s been that enlightened since birth.

In any case, you stick around him, hoping that some of that peace of mind of his will rub off on you. Everyone’s so caught up in being famous today that you forget you have real life to live.

But out here, on the beach with him, phone tucked away in a locker, toes in the sand with no makeup on except for sunscreen, and no bustling city cars or club chatter, just frivolous laughter and the sound of splashing waves, you can be content with the fact that no one knows who you are. 

♡ BNHA – Kirishima, Shoto, Denki, Hawks, Natsuo, FatGum, Mirio ♡ JJK – Yuji ♡ HQ – Yamaguchi, Hinata, Sugawara, Bokuto, Osamu, Ushijima, Ukai ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Nagi ♡ DS – Tanjiro ♡ WB – Umemiya

Yellow was born rich and grew up wild for no reason.

He’s daddy’s golden boy, but acts and dresses like a gang member every time he leaves the house outside of any and all family occasions, galas, and charity events.

He’s like Bruce Wayne, without the crime-fighting, and if Batman were just his street name. 

Not that you real street urchins don’t spot him a mile away. But hey, he’s fun and likes spending money, so you let him hang out despite him being from the other side of town.

He likes riding fast cars and taking fast drugs and is surprisingly good at drag racing. Actually, he’s the best. Blew every single one of you away when he took on the previous best racer. You thought he was high on something and acting stupid, but no. Won fair and square like it was nothing to him.

It all makes sense when you learn his father’s the owner of a major automobile conglomerate. As his son, he’s got several fast cars—several of each big brand, new models and retro ones, collectors' items and ones that are personally customized.

Your jaw is on the floor as he takes you through the garage. You have to scoff at the term—garage—as if it isn’t a whole underground parking lot beneath his house.

You’re surprised to find out he actually does work on them. In overalls with a wrench, oil stains and all. 

He tells you he always dreamt of being a real racer, running his own team right alongside Red Bull and McLaren. But when you ask him why he doesn’t, he tells you dreams are for poor people—that cars are a business, not for play.

You don’t know. It’s the first time you fully realize how truly different the two of you are. You’d ignored the expensive clothing and salon hair up until then. But now it was suddenly all you could see.

You’re just the flag girl who initiated his first race—the girlfriend he doesn’t introduce to his parents because he has no real intention of staying with you for long. So you decide to rip off the band-aid and break up with him.

He’s dumbfounded.

But just like the golden boy he is, he’ll win you back by sparing no expense.

♡ BNHA – Denki, Touya, Hawks, Natsuo ♡ JJK – Gojo ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Lev, Oikawa, Atsumu ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Rin ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Doma

Green is an earthy guy. He knows everything about any botanical type you can name—which can overwinter, which can survive with minimal sun, which needs water every day. He can even bring flowers back from the dead. He’s like a witch doctor for plants.

His parents own the flower shop he manages, as well as the plantation from which the flowers come.

You start working there, sort of on a whim, just after college. You don’t know why, you’ve never considered yourself especially green-fingered, but they were hiring, and you, despite having a degree, didn’t really know what you were or wanted to be doing yet.

Green is about your age, so it’s a very chill job. And the plants make for nice scenery and a pleasant aroma as you try to figure out your life. In fact, it’s so nice you end up getting a little lost in it.

And Green is so laid back, you end up becoming good friends, and after seeing the way he carries those big bags of soil on his back so easily, you end up becoming a little more than that, despite him being your boss. So, with the benefits being as good as the salary, there wasn’t much to encourage you to leave.

But how could you have known?

You thought he was a normal guy until he casually took you into one of the greenhouses on the far side of the plantation on day, just to help him with some plants there he’d told you, only for it to be a whole ass weed garden you hadn’t known anything about.

The salary suddenly makes more sense then.

He’s so normal about it, you’re almost convinced it isn’t illegal, the way he adjusts the sprinklers for a light drizzle, and tells you to check each plant for any damage and disease.

You didn’t know if you should say anything at first, but of course you do—asking him what it’s all for. To which he responds by just smiling that dopey smile of his, bringing you in for a lazy hug while placing a soft kiss on your forehead, then telling you it’s best not to ask any questions.

You don’t know… but it sort of feels like what he really meant to say was Shut up and do your job.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Yamaguchi, Hinata, Sugawara, Kuro, Bokuto, Atsumu, Osamu, Ukai ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ WB – Kiryu, Umemiya, Togame

Blue is an artist—a tortured one.

Though not a particularly poor one.

He’s also a young entrepreneur who started his career in art curation while still in middle school, and therefore lives alone in his penthouse apartment, never once having ever bothered to turn on the lights.

He’s a real hermit with a tendency to fall in love with his own depression.

He can spend entire days in bed, awake, rolling around, thinking, wondering why he feels the way he feels, even though he knows that getting up would probably solve half of it. But when he finally does get out of bed, he simply wraps himself in the duvet and relocates to the sofa. 

It’s a cocoon, he insists—his metamorphosis. He’ll come out when the sun goes down again. All night long in front of the canvas. So many shades of blue on his palette—it’s enough to get lost in.

You’re his assistant, but you feel like a nanny half the time. You have no idea how he’s managed the firm so far—he doesn’t even step out of his home, let alone go to any galleries where he can actually do business.

On top of that, he never answers his goddamn phone—all but forcing you to make the trip over. Shaking your head, you always buy dinner on the way, knowing he’s probably forgotten about it. Thinking you’ll hit two birds with one stone, you just make for you both.

You know the passcode to the door, and so you step right in like you live there—in fact, with how often you're there, sleeping over and tidying up, you're at the point you're fighting the urge to call it home.

Finding his phone uncharged in the middle of the floor, you sigh. You’re not sure, but you think he does it on purpose. Ignoring your texts, knowing you’ll be on your way.

He heard you come in, but doesn’t step away from his work, listening to you pad up the stairs to his studio. He’s in a bathrobe, hair greasy, nearly matted to his head, and just like a mother, you tell him to go march his ass into the shower while you make some food.

At least he actually listens to you when you come over. But my, he’s a handful. Over dinner, he even asks you to just move in for real, given that you’re already doing the job of a wife.

But he writes your checks, and they’re well beyond what you’d make if you were an actual nanny, so you guess you’ll put up with him for a little while longer. 

♡ BNHA – Shoto, Shigaraki, Touya, Hawks, young Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso, Higuruma ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Ego ♡ DS – Zenitsu

Indigo is a guy who never sleeps. He’s all late nights, dark clothes, and too many drinks to count, and yet never seems too drunk.

He’s like a bottomless well. A wishing well of sorts that doesn’t mind listening to all your drunken ramblings while the two of you sit on the floor after the party’s over. 

You should have shut up hours ago, but he doesn’t mind. He just watches you silently as you spill all your deepest, darkest secrets—a small smile on his lips, you can’t see. But his intentions aren’t bad. He just finds you cute, is all. 

He’s at every party—outside, leaning against the back of the house with a cigarette between his lips. The darkness of the night makes his eye color impossible to place—they just look black.

You seek him out for reasons you’re not too sure of yet. Or… the mysterious hot guy—how could you refuse?

You’re tipsy, giggling, all smiles and more, twirling and accepting his offer of a puff with your lips and not your hands, so that he has to hold it for you. He smiles, and this time you see it, further spurring you on.

You ask him then and there, in the night, to go skinny dipping with you alone. And he just hums, lighting another cig, telling you to lead the way.

When he removes his shirt, you spot the tattoos in the moonlight. It’s strange—they’re all the girly type, but suit him so well—his astrology symbols, a heart, the infinity sign, an arrow, a flower, an anime cloud. You don’t know why, but it’s hot for some reason, like the doodles you'd make in a textbook instead of writing notes.

He isn’t what you would call a pretty boy, but he is pretty. Dark-eyed with long lashes, you might accuse him of wearing mascara, and yet it doesn’t run down his pink-dusted cheeks when you’re in the water.

Skin to skin to keep warm, naked and held on his lap, sharing kisses while bobbing in the lake, everything quiet except for breaths and the soft splashing around you, so close now you can finally spot the true color of his eyes—dark, dark, dark indigo blue. 

It might be the drink in your system, but you swear, that way he looks at you—it’s enough to make you fall in love on the spot.

♡ BNHA – Shoto, Touya, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Geto, Megumi, Toji, Choso ♡ HQ – Suna, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ WB – Suo ♡ HxH – young Chrollo

Violet is an old soul, and yet a never-aging one at the same time. A soft, timeless presence—mild, like a breath of fresh air, a gentle breeze ruffling your hair. 

Far removed from town, between a forest and a flower field runs a white gravel road, and at the end of it stands his cottage—pale bricks and ashen rooftiles that all but disappear within the foliage growing up and over it. And yet, peaking through the leaves and flowers are cute windows and a round wooden door leading inside.

Behind a picket fence connected to the house is a little garden where he grows tomatoes, salad, and carrots, which he’ll use to feed the fluffle of bunnies living out on the field. They all know and trust him, and so when he takes you through it for the first time, you feel convinced you’re dating a faun.

Everything about him is like a fairytale… Doe-eyed and silly, he’ll lie you down in the wildflowers and grass to watch clouds, both on your backs, giving them names while holding your hand. He’ll weave you a flower crown and name you a princess, and though it’s all odd and new to you, there isn’t a single thing about it that isn’t perfectly perfect.

He likes scented candles, incense, and organic food. He doesn’t touch alcohol or meat, but you’re very sure he’s got something in his tea and puts it in everything he bakes.

You don’t mind it. Or well… you’re a little sceptical when he first introduces you to mushrooms, but you trust him enough to try.

You don’t think you’ve ever really felt the forest before. Touching the trees as you pass them, feeling the deep wrinkles of bark run under your palm—it’s like the skin of something ancient. After taking a closer look, you swear you can spot the faces.

The wind is like a song, and the river sings along. You don’t know, you feel so small, but in a good way, in a way that everything around you suddenly becomes transcendent.

You look back at him, and hidden there, in the trees, you don’t even realize, but you’ve forgotten about the rest of the world.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Hawks, Shinso, Natsuo, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Yuji, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Sugawara, Kuro, Bokuto, Osamu ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Tomioka, Tanjiro ♡ WB – Kiryu, Nirei, Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[retiredteabag]

jjk guys & their love languages

Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, and Suguru

*the five love languages are pseudoscience, but I think there is something to say about preferences*

Gojo

His love language: words of affirmation

You would think that he would have been praised all his life, being the strongest and all. But there is nothing that flusters him more than a kind word or two. He'll act unaffected or brush it off, maybe even pretend to be cocky, but the prominent blush that appeared when you compliment him is telling.

"You're really generous, you know?"

He would have done something simple, paid for lunch, bought the students a new TV, filled the lounge with snacks, who knows. He's always doing things for others.

"Pshh, it's nothing!"

He would wave off your praise, feeling giddy nonetheless.

"No, seriously, you're really thoughtful and giving, Satoru, it's sweet."

Oh, he's just delighted! With the expectation he's held to being so high, it isn't often that people feel the need to validate him. Verbal recognition was never something he could get over easily.

Even so, while he is constantly in need of attention, feeding off of the love someone may give to him, he never seems to be able to just say, 'thank you'.

Sweet.

You had called him sweet.

He now has daydream material for months.

The way he shows love: quality time

One would think that he would prioritize gift-giving when it came to showing love, but I don't necessarily think that's the case. He doesn't see gifts as a big deal; having grown up living lavishly, he would much rather show you with his actions.

I don't imagine you would ever have to plan a date with Satoru. That man is on it. If you ever mention wanting to do something, he will remember it and make it happen.

It's not that he isn't interested in your planning; it's just that at the end of every hangout (pre-relationship and during), he's already scheduling your next get-together.

He gets withdrawals if you're not around enough, of course, he can't let that happen.

Nanami

His love language: physical touch

Here's the thing: it's very typical for a man's "love language" to be physical touch in a slimy, objectifying way. Where he doesn't express his "love" to any degree other than sexual acts and lacks proaction in any other mode of expressing intimacy.

This is not the case with Nanami Kento.

He is the most attentive man you will ever meet, patient to a t, and loving in the gentlest of ways. He adores quality time with you, is endlessly appreciative of any gift, it warms his heart to hear you say kind things, and thoughtful acts of service never go unnoticed.

After years together, though, it is still the case that nothing causes his heart to race quite like when you reach over and grab his hand.

After a long day of work, having you come to the foyer and wrap your arms around him lifts any stress right off his shoulders.

A kiss on the cheek will have him distracted for hours.

Cuddling with you is a divine experience for him.

Even just a casual touch during conversation causes him to stutter.

And as much as he tries to hide how affected he is by you, he just can't deny himself for very long.

The way he shows love: acts of service

It's not intentional for him, he just never wants to ask anything of you. He is happy to fix anything, complete any chore, do any task, so long as it keeps you from having to work.

If you are ever stressed, he will do everything in his power to cause it to cease. You never have to ask him to take out the trash or clean up after himself, he respects your shared space and likes nothing more than doing these little things for you.

It's almost as if he is able to anticipate your needs, he is always there in your corner, supporting you however he can.

And every time he hears an "Oh, Ken, you didn't have to do that!" He is determined to show you just how high your standards ought to be.

Choso

His love language: words of affirmation

It truly does not matter how many times you tell this man that you love him, that he's so good to you, that he's your cute baby, that he did a good job, that he's a strong and brave hero, that he makes you happy, that you cherish his company... it always feels like the first time to him.

His stomach does these little summersaults whenever you verbalize your recognition of him, causing him to squirm in his seat.

If he's ever having a hard time, maybe the day seems to be dragging on, he just recalls when you kissed his cheek, murmuring into his chest, "Have a good day, Cho, I love you."

And he's rubbing his ears in embarrassment, attempting to hide his grin.

The way he shows love: physical touch

He didn't have much practice expressing love for a few hundred years before meeting you, the love he has for his brothers is real, but it's different than what he feels for you.

Anytime he gets that tingly feeling in his chest and his cheeks start to heat up, he just wants to bury you in his arms. When he sees you laying on the couch, bundled up in a blanket, he has to hold himself back from smothering you in a bear hug.

It's fair to say he has a bit of cuteness aggression; sometimes he just gets stuck in the act of kissing you, not wanting to let go of your hand. Trying his best to transport the love he has for you into your body, straight from his.

It's actually quite difficult for him to control himself; you ought to be proud of him.

If you tell him you're proud of him though, he might just implode.

Sukuna

His love language: quality time

Oh boy, this man does not need anything from you but your presence; you don't need to be going anywhere, doing anything, speaking at all, just being together is enough for him.

He was alone for so long that being with you, no matter the circumstance, is special.

He'll let you sleep on his lap, listen to whatever you say without interruption, and regularly dedicate time to your company.

He would never say it, but if he goes too long without being around you, he becomes a little crazy.

(a oneshot I wrote about something similar)

The way he shows love: gift giving

This was a toss-up, like his love language, he also expresses his love with quality time, but since he thinks of it as his own special enjoyment, he also showers you with anything you like.

They often come as a surprise, the gestures he makes for you. Randomly finding flowers around your room, the thoughtful presents that arrive anytime he goes out, and the symbolic tokens he adorns you in for every festivity.

The main gift you will never stop receiving, though, are all the letters he sends you. Perfectly artistic is his calligraphy, the handmade pages can be found slipped under your chamber door, resting on your workbench in the greenhouse, or hand delivered by a servant.

When he discovers you have kept every last note he has written, he feels his pulse stammer for the first time.

Toji

His love language: acts of service

He lives to serve, always has, always will. More than anyone else you've met, this man is a giver; perhaps that is why it kind of holds him up short the first time you offer to shave him.

He had never had someone offer, and it didn't take him long to realize that your constant willingness to do little things for him ruffles his ability to remain nonchalant.

Why is he feeling so flustered?

One day over dinner you heard him complain about needing to fill up his tank before going out on a job. You spun around in your apron, shaking your head,

"Oh, did I not say? I got gas for your car this morning."

He had never kissed you so desperately as he had in that moment.

When he sees that you've gone grocery shopping, made him coffee, or offered to scratch his back, he's just at a loss for words.

The way he shows love: acts of service

Hey, he's an easy guy, like I said, he's super giving, especially with you. He knows that he loves all the little supportive behaviors you do for him, so he makes an effort to sacrifice for you in the same ways.

He especially loves to warm up towels for you when you get out of the shower, or toss a blanket in the dryer to cover you while he folds the laundry. When you let him, he’ll kneel down to tie your shoes or zip up your coats.

He's a real problem-solver too, in whatever situation, he will never hesitate to take the lead whenever he can lighten your load.

Suguru

His love language: quality time

It does not elude him how appreciative he feels every time you choose to be around him. There is only one priority in his life, second to his cult, and that is you.

Uninterrupted conversations with you are a must for his sanity. All the little shared activities you take part in, watching a show, reading a book, enjoying your lunches, stargazing etc. keep him together.

When he's away from you, his focus lies ahead, to a time when he can hold your gaze once more.

Got forbid you ever end up sleeping apart, he needs you next to him to be able to rest peacefully.

His desperation to be around you only grows by the day, whether it's preparing breakfast, going for a walk, or completing projects, there is nobody he would rather be with than you.

The way he shows love: words of affirmation

If this man is anything, it is free with his praise.

He just can't hold himself back from cooing out his admiration for every little thing about you. It was so embarrassing at first, all the compliments, the recognition, the force that was his attention.

You couldn't do anything without him making a comment:

"Well, aren't you sweet."

"My, you're a hard worker."

"Well done! I'm proud of you."

Whether it's completing a strenuous task or something as simple as preparing tea, he is loose with his appreciation.

And don't even get me started on his flattery, not a day passes where he was not taken by your beauty, of course, he needs to tell you.

Your sheepish thanks and endless blushing did nothing to hinder him in this regard; in fact, it only made him want to tell you more.

He is particularly fond of whispering in your ear sweet little words that cause you to teeter between smacking him and pulling him down for a kiss.

my masterlist

artists: Gojo - @deka_sad. Nanami - @neconi_o0 + unknown. Choso - from the manga + unknown. Sukuna - @Su2kuna. Toji - @Hunnismoker. Suguru - @Zijingpap.

[shouyuus]

I have a request based off of something that happened to me with my gf LMAO but if you could write a Vi and reader having ✨sesbian lex✨ and Vi suddenly gets a phone call. Instead of Stopping Vi covers reader’s mouth and answers the call, chatting normally as she continues to strap reader down and reader is struggling to stay quiet 👁️👁️ thanks pookie!

that's so hot pookie bless so glad u got to have that experience 👁️👁️

+18, mdni, carmech!vi bc i miss her wow

"n-ngh -- vi... r-right there --"

"yeah sweetness? like it when i fuck you right there?"

vi sounds a bit breathless, there's a light quirk to the side of her lips as she works her hips into yours, her strap hitting against a spot inside you that has your vision petering out at the edges. there's a heat curling in the base of your belly that makes your toes curl, your spine bend. you reach for her, sinking your fingers into her tightly corded forearms as she leans down to pin you back.

"fuck -- fuck -- you're so tight, pretty girl -- y'hear how wet you are for me?" she asks, even as you nod, a desperate bob of your head as she hoists your thigh over her hip to drill in all the deeper.

it's saturday afternoon, the air conditioner on full blast, the car garage empty for the heat. it'd been a slow kind of day, the kind where ennui tickles at the summer-stained corners of the imagination, threatening to set in. and when it does... well, there's only one thing for it --

"please, vi -- i'm gonna --"

she lets out a low groan, leaning down to suck a sloppy hickey against your shoulder. even though the pair of you have been together more than a year now, she's still as insatiable as when you'd just met her.

"that's it, c'mon princess -- cum for me, cum all over this strap like the good little girl you --"

the phone rings; her pace stutters.

you keen, squeezing your thighs around her hips, your heels digging into her back as she reaches for her cellphone and frowns down at the caller id. you shake your head vigorously, tugging at her arm.

"vi -- vi -- no don't --" you beg, because there's a dangerous smirk cresting her lips even as she presses a finger to them.

"shh... quiet princess, unless you want someone to hear," she murmurs, before swiping up and pressing the phone to her ear.

"heeeyyy silco, what's up? y'lookin for vander? he's out at a show in kansas -- oh yeah -- sure, we should still be good for dinner -- 7, at the bar, right?" vi rocks her hips down into yours and has to press her palm over your mouth to muffle your squeak.

"huh? no nothing -- just uh --" vi cocks an eyebrow down at you, swirling her hips, the feel of her strap dragging inside you nearly makes your eyes roll back. you clench down around her, biting down hard on your own lips to keep from making noise. she nods her approval before letting go of your mouth and straightening back up, resting her free hand on your hip to hold you still as she tugs back for a particularly hard thrust.

"-- doin' some maintenance work," she chuckles, "some of these screws are in a bit tight," she winks, pulling back and thrusting forward once more, "y'know how things get when they're not... worked out properly once in a while."

you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the coil tighten inside you with every soft shallow thrust of her hips, the tip of the silicon strap nudging up against your g-spot till it's all you can do to keep from falling apart. you scrabble for her wrist, giving her a warning tug as she laughs at something silco says, glancing down at your with dark, blown-out eyes.

"yeah, i know, i know, you've always hated the shop talk -- kay, we'll see you at dinner -- yep, she'll be there too," vi says, before bidding her goodbyes and clicking off her phone. she sets it face down on the bedside table and before returning to the shape of you pinned beneath her.

"f-fuck vi... th-that's not --" you try to force out a coherent sentence, but vi only coos as she reaches down between you to flick playfully at your clit. immediately, your mouth falls open, and you jerk up against her. she laughs.

"mmm... i really do love it when you're tryna keep quiet for me princess..." she says, leaning down to brush her lips against yours. you yank her down for a kiss, fingers fisting in the choppy pink hair at the base of your skull. she groans into the kiss, fucking into you now with the kind of wild abandon you've come to know all too well.

within a minute, she has you shuddering apart, coming hard enough for the world to blink out for a few seconds, the air in your lungs to taste sweet and bitter all at once. she holds you down and chases her own climax, muttering the entire time about how hot you look, how much she loves it when you soak her strap like this. you keen as she collapses into you with a long breath, groaning into the sticky skin of your shoulder.

you run your fingers through her hair.

"really?" you ask, after a few steadying breaths, "a few tight screws?"

vi chuckles, pulling back with a lopsided shrug.

"what? wasn't exactly a lie."

"yeah? you really wanna compare our sex lives to car maintenance?"

vi pulls out and you crinkle your nose at the sudden loss of feeling. she leans down to press a kiss to the side of your knee before reaching for a napkin to wipe you down.

"'s not that different -- good, timely maintenance gets you a good, healthy, long run with your car," she says, tossing the napkin into a bin in the corner before offering you a mug of water. you take a sip before holding the mug up to her lips. she lets you tip some into her mouth, licking her lips as she works the harness off from around her hips.

"thanks princess," she says, leaning forward for a kiss. you watch her pull her tanktop back on, shimmying back into her boxer shorts.

"oh, you're good for dinner at silco's right? at 7?"

you cock an eyebrow, "you mean the dinner you already agreed to for me on the phone right now? while we were fucking?"

vi shoots you a cheeky smile.

"so... 7?"

you roll your eyes, tossing your underwear at her with a huff.

"get me a new pair of panties."

vi laughs, snatching your crumpled up underwear from the air and considers them for a brief second before pressing them into the back pocket of her cargo shorts.

"nah, think i like you without them."

[orphicsun]

78 and 79 with sevika PLEASE.

warnings: 18+ content, spanking, thigh-riding, brothel worker reader, names used (whore, good girl)

"Do you like when I spank you?"

Yeah, you absolutely did. Sevika didn't need to ask. You hardly knew the woman, and you were already letting her witness the sight of your hole clenching around nothing as she landed harsh spanks on your ass, reveling in the way the skin jiggles upon impact.

This is supposed to be your job—doing sexual favors for a living in the back of a busy brothel. It's meaningless when you're on your knees for any man or woman. Hell, it's meaningless for anyone.

It's sad to say, but you don't exactly drool over the the idea of any of your clients fucking you. You're used to the type of sex that uses your body, taking from you without any needed pleasure. People don't care about if you cum because you get paid. They treat you differently than their spouses. They even treat you differently than the girls they pick up in cheap bars.

But Sevika is something, an almost comedic exception to the rules of being a prostitute. She spends the first half of your time together, the first half she had paid for warming you up for it. She always knows exactly how to make you want her, too. The wet heat of her tongue slathered all over your pussy until your wet enough for three fingers was what you were given last week. This time, it's something you weren't expecting.

But when she had suggested it, you weren't dull at the thought of her palm on your ass. So here you are, taking it like you're made for her pain.

Another, and then she soothes you, her fingers spreading over the reddened skin. Isn't she sweet?

"C'mon, whore.."

That name. It should be offensive to someone whose job is sex work, but from her lips, it's stated as if it's a compliment. Like you're not just any whore, but the best. Her whore.

You're snapped out of your tainted thoughts when her palm meets your ass again, making you cry out.

"Stupid little whore I've got," she scolds you, scoffing when she looks down to see more arousal seep out of your neglected hole, dripping down your pussy and past your clit. Laid out on your stomach over her lap is the most comfortable position to receive this extreme treatment, but it's a heavenly torture; every time your pussy gets wetter, you have to feel the sensation right on your clit, the smallest bit of sensation you can get from her actions.

"I'm sorry.. please play with me, please." You beg to be touched, to be fucked right here across her lap.

Sevika has different plans for a whore as desperate as you, though.

She gently hauls you up, situating you on her right thigh. Your bare pussy aches and it takes everything in you not to just start riding her thigh. You want to move and use her, but you don't. She hasn't told you to yet. Afterall, she is the one who paid for this.

Two hands embrace your waist, squeezing you. She holds you affectionately despite the situation, pulling you closer. It only makes you wetter.

And then, she whispers in your ear, her voice a command simple enough for your dumb whore brain to follow.

"Use my thigh, baby."

You don't ask her to specify, don't hesitate. You simply let out a desperate little noise and begin rocking your hips back and forth, shivering when your clit drags against her skin, sending pleasure through you.

"I need you so bad, 'Vika. Needtocumplease," you moan out hastily, your hands finding purchase against her shoulders so you can really use her thigh.

"Fuck, that's it," she encourages. "Knew you could be a good girl for me."

You're embarrassingly close already, in your own little world as you smear arousal all over her thigh with each movement. She loves it, too. She loves how she can take a brothel girl like you and turn her into a dumb whore, desperate enough to do bend over at her command and take whatever she gives.

Sevika isn't surprised when your actions speed up to a frantic pace, your thighs fluttering on either side of her thigh. You're already cumming all over her thigh, making a huge mess. She doesn't mind one bit, though.

You let out the cutest little gasps as you ride out the final moments of your bliss, your hips twitching to milk every bit of stimulation until you're finally sated.

You've got another client soon, and now you're just a fucked-out mess.

taglist: @maple-anon, @abbysbutch, @rhian88, @myfabulousnesshasarrived, @mysexy-anxiety, @femme-tobe, @sulliefimmie, @klallx, @elliescoochieeater, @moodient, @leguitarsxxr, @eradicatedbythenightmare, @mytaping, @pryncess123, @saturnhas82moons, @vixxxen, @prettyinpink69, @aceywaycy, @hellokittyfeenie, @starberr1, @ruelezz, @ladybugb0ng, @deluxism, @prwttiestbunny, @eriiwaiii2, @starrycherie, @lonelysapphic, @x0x0xkimara, @mars4hellokitty, @jhyoos, @moonfloweredprincess, @morticeras, @abbysmeatrider, @ferxanda, @frillynpinkprincess, @plasticl0v3r, @g4ys0n, @waitaminuteashh, @bewareofmyglock, @witzs want to be tagged? click here!

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You came to Velaris under duress five years ago—pregnant, alone, and in hiding from something, or someone, too dangerous to even speak aloud. When your daughter begged you to go to school years after settling down in the apartment above a worn-down apothecary, you obliged her. But things still didn't feel safe. Azriel was going to do everything in his power to give you that safety. At least, he would try. 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, references to an abusive family

a/n: Here is part 8!! yayy!! (and also sorry hehe oops)

Series Masterlist (all parts)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Within the echo of your hurried footsteps on the creaking apothecary floor, your labored breaths were plentiful and difficult to quell. You had sent Melanie upstairs the moment you unlocked the door, a feigned smile creating the guise that she needed to hurry and pack her things for her sleepover later. That’s why you had rushed away from the school. Not because you feared for… several things at the meeting of the General of the Night Court. 

Melanie believed you, too distracted by her excitement to remain fixated on her confusion.

That was good. 

She was fine. You were fine. 

Would you stay fine? 

Cassian was not dangerous, according to Azriel, but Cassian was loyal to the Night Court. Azriel had assured you that his family would never put you or your daughter in harm's way, but that had never been what made you feel safest around him. 

“It has been carved into my chest from the moment we locked eyes.”

“I have waited for my mate for centuries. I have dreamed of you and wanted you, and I don’t know if that scares you, but I hope it can be some consolation.”

“I want to be all in with the two of you. My life has… it’s changed. It’s different now, because of you.”

It was Azriel himself that made you feel safe—that made you trust. And even though you knew you could trust his words, you couldn’t trust Cassian. You didn’t know Cassian, and even worse, Azriel had told you one too many times how much of a loudmouth he was. He wouldn’t tell the High Lord about you in a malicious way, but it would end poorly. This would all end poorly. You should leave. You should—

The door to the apothecary swung open with a force, the knob smacking into the wall on its way. You turned in anticipatory fear, hand over your heart, but much of that melted away when it was Azriel alone walking through the entryway. 

He seemed to take stock of you first, looking for something by your feet that he did not find before moving to your hands, your shoulders, and behind you on the counter. When he completed his search, his shoulders dropped an inch, wings perking up from their drooped position. 

“Melanie?” he asked, feet rooted to the floor across the room.

You brought your hand up to clasp your forearm, the position protecting you from nothing. “She’s upstairs packing.” 

Azriel’s expression fractured. “Packing?” he croaked. The single word was almost unintelligible; it cracked and got lost in the deep timbre of his voice. 

“For her sleepover. She’s still going to—” 

You were interrupted by his boots closing the space between you. You felt him before you could catch up with his movements, his shadows slurring against your skin and into your hair. His forehead pressed against yours next, but when you went to search his expression, his eyes squeezed shut.

“I thought—” he began, brows furrowing and creating yet another crease on his face. “I thought I would find you leaving. I thought I scared you away this time.” 

Your chest cracked open, heart pounding against your ribs until it hurt. You wouldn’t tell him that your thoughts had gone to that. You wouldn’t share that just moments before he burst in, your fingers had twitched as you thought about the one trunk you kept in the back of the closet upstairs. 

You were used to running. 

Running felt safe. 

Azriel was the only thing that felt safer. 

Your tongue darted out to wet your drying lips as you replied, “No. No, Azriel. Mel is just packing for the night.” 

You had decided that the second he walked—or, rather, stormed—into the apothecary. You had decided that without the thought even materializing in your mind. 

Azriel’s hands, which had made a home along the back of your neck, slid up to cup your jaw. His eyes fluttered open, eager to meet yours, and a bittersweet smile lit them up in a devastating way. “Okay,” he seemed to say to himself. “Okay, good. I’m—I’m sorry. About Cassian. He’s agreed to keep his meeting you quiet.” 

There was something he was leaving out. The words were there, lingering in the dark parts of your mind. So you spoke them. 

“For now,” you nodded, clasping his wrists. “Quiet for now, you mean.” 

“No, he’s agreed—” 

“Az, we both know that there are too many moving parts here. Cassian may have agreed or promised or have good intentions, but there are also two five-year-olds in the mix and, eventually, you will have to explain why you keep disappearing from family events. Like Cassian said—” 

“I don’t care what Cassian said.” 

“I know,” you whispered. He was scared. You could tell by the way his hands trembled against you. You weren’t sure what else scared the Shadowsinger, but you hated that you were part of something he feared. 

“I have waited for my mate for centuries. I have dreamed of you and wanted you.” 

“I can—”

“Aziel, stop,” you softly commanded. “It’s inevitable.” 

“Tell me who you’re hiding from,” he practically begged. His wings stretched forward like shadows at your sides, protecting you from nothing. “I can fix it. I—You and Mel would be safer if—” 

You pressed forward on your toes, and you kissed him. 

He paused for a moment, his mouth stiff in shock against yours, but it only took a single breath for him to snap back to the present. Weeks of built-up tension and pressing truths and want poured into the way his lips reverently moved against yours. His touch, still a slight tremor lingering in the joints, moved up until his fingers found the base of your hair. He stepped forward twice, and your back met the front counter. 

He only kissed you harder as your right hand left his wrist to steady yourself on the counter. He kissed you harder and he brought his arm around your back to take the responsibility on himself. His hand in your hair bunched at the roots but didn’t tug or pull—it was like he couldn’t help it, like the want to bring you closer resulted in stiff limbs and clenching fists. 

You could have kissed him forever. He was keeping you safe here, his wings closing in even more if the light meeting your closed lids told you anything. His shadows brushed your skin, keeping you distracted enough for him to be in control of the kiss, but that wasn’t true; you knew in the small moments of hesitance that he would let you do anything—control anything. 

When you broke apart, chest heaving and lashes fluttering, Azriel trailed a few lingering kisses to your cheeks and at your temple. Those were familiar places, territories he’d allowed himself before you’d given such express permission as you had right now. His own breath was somewhat labored, but he wouldn’t stop touching you, wouldn’t fully pull away. 

“When I said it was inevitable—” you breathed out, bringing both hands to rest on the plane of his chest. “—I meant it was inevitable that I would have to meet your family. That they would know of me and… and Mel. I didn’t mean that I was going to leave.” 

Azriel’s nose nudged against your cheek. A beat of silence followed your words. He pulled back a few inches, tucked your hair behind your ears, and let his eyes trace each of your features. 

“You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel forced just because of Cassian. I could make an excuse.”

He was giving you an out. You weren’t sure how he would possibly swing it, but Azriel was offering you more hiding. More secrets. The ability to have him without being tied down by his family and the role in the court that you so obviously feared. So many implications came with his offer. So many sacrifices he would have to make. 

The scales were tipping. Things were changing. Maybe they could know you and be none the wiser. Maybe… 

“I—I want to, Azriel. Melanie doesn’t deserve to be living in fear. Even if she doesn’t understand it right now.” 

Azriel looked down towards your mouth, expression pained in a lingering wince. He continued brushing your hair back—a nervous habit, maybe, one flourishing since you’d allowed him to really touch you. 

“And maybe I could explain things to you tonight. Fully. That way you can know what you might be bringing to your family before—”

“You are my family,” Azriel breathed out, the words not even in the air for a second before his mouth was on yours again. 

This kiss was slower, more purposeful, holding more meaning. 

It was cut short by stomps down the stairs. Azriel tore himself away from you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip once before pulling his wing back to reveal Melanie with an overfilled bag dragging behind her. Stuffed animals and at least four pairs of socks peeked out from the top, and you were quickly reminded why you never let her pack her anything. 

“What the heck are you guys doing?” Melanie questioned, frustration her primary emotion. “No one even came to help me! Mr. Azriel, only one of your shadows was hanging out with me, and I didn’t get my after-school snack.” 

Azriel took half a step back from you and schooled his face into a more managed calm, sincerity evident in his palm over his chest. “I apologize, Melanie. How rude of me. How about I come up and make your snack while you and your mom sort out the bag for your sleepover?” 

“I already packed it,” she drawled as if Azriel were blind, shaking the strap in her hand. “But I guess I would like a snack.” 

You pressed your fingers over your mouth to stop the laugh from tumbling out. Azriel shot you a playful side eye and squeezed your hip before meeting Melanie at the base of the stairs. 

“Oh, I can see that. But you can barely close it, Mel.” He gently took the bag from her, hauling it over his shoulder before lifting her to rest on his hip. “Anyways. Cheese and apples or the crackers I brought from my friend Sevenda?”

~~

Nervous energy permeated the room, the majority of it coming from you in droves. Some trickled from Azriel, but he hid it well within his constant movements. 

Melanie was next door. You had eaten dinner together. You were cleaning the kitchen now, a mundane task that could have been done later, but you were clearly using it as a way to bide time. Azriel was allowing it—he would always let you do this at your own pace. 

The more you dwelt on your previous plan of only telling Azriel who Melanie’s father was, the more it made no sense to you. If you only told him that piece of the story, he would still fail to understand why you’d run. He would know the name and position of one man and nothing else. 

It had to be everything. 

You chewed on the inside of your lip as the cleaning came to an end. Azriel made a show of hanging up the small towel by the basin and rubbing his hands together in finality. More time he was allowing. 

“The fire?” you asked, motioning to the sitting room. Azriel offered you a small smile and pressed his hand to your back, guiding you to the loveseat there. 

Your stomach was turning. He made no motion to urge you, mirroring you as you sat turned to face your mate. 

Your mate and you still hadn’t felt the bond. 

You picked at your fingers as they lay in your lap. 

It didn’t take Azriel long to cover your hands with one of his. “You don’t have to do this. I don’t need to know if you aren’t ready.” 

“I am ready,” you emphasized. “I trust you. Completely.” 

Azriel leaned down. “Then what’s wrong?” 

He would judge you. He would hate where you came from. He would turn you away. 

Before, it had been about safety—about protecting Melanie. If anyone knew who you were or who she was, they would turn you in. The reward for doing so was hefty and money was always a driving force. While Azriel may not have been swayed by money, a bargaining chip between rival courts was also nothing to bat an eye at. 

But he wouldn’t do that. You were sure of it. 

Now your fear lay in his reaction to the truth. 

“Nothing,” you assured, your smile tight and wrong as you looked up at him. “Just nervous, I guess.” 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, but he did not remain there. Azriel gave you space, not touching you, but leaving his hands within reach if you needed them. You would tell this story alone.

“I won’t interrupt,” he said, voice carrying a regalness you hadn’t heard from him. 

A deep breath. “I’m from Autumn, but you knew that. Melanie’s father is also from Autumn. He doesn’t know about her, though I think he might suspect since I ran with no contact after we…” You looked down at your hands. “We weren’t together. I’ve never been in a relationship. Never been allowed to.” You tilted your head to the side. “I grew up as a court lady. Trained to be one, anyway. My marriage was not planned at birth, but it was very carefully calculated by Beron.” 

You felt Azriel shift on the loveseat, the cushions jostling you. When you looked up, his brows had lowered in concentration or confusion, you couldn’t tell. True to his word, he did not interrupt. 

“When it was finally decided, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. The man they chose was a high-ranking noble from Spring, and he was—well, he was vile. About 3 centuries older than me, with a propensity for violence against women and multiple deceased wives. If you can connect the dots there,” you spit out. “But it’s not as if Beron or my… my father cared about that. They only wanted what would come from the union. Spring and Autumn finally chained together when High Lord Tamlin was at his weakest. They tried to force the union with Tamlin himself, but he’s been too much of a wreck to agree to much of anything.” 

Azriel let out a breath as if he had gone to speak and thought better of it. You looked up at him with a searching gaze, but he only shook his head slightly and motioned for you to continue.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m telling this out of order. It’s difficult to gather my thoughts, but all of that is to say I had an arranged marriage I couldn’t go through with. My… brothers were all for it as well. There was going to be an announcement across Pyrithian and Beron was practically foaming at the mouth to have it all finalized. So, I ruined it. 

“Gods, I had no idea what I was doing, just that there was only one way that awful man wouldn’t want me anymore. He had made it quite clear that my virtue was of utmost importance to him, which was exactly why I was hidden away for most of my life. That, and they were all waiting until I was most useful.” 

You were starting to get angry now, and that inevitably led to you getting choked up. Your throat constricted and you twisted your mouth to the side when your nose started to burn. It was infuriating that after all this time, this still affected you this way. You bit your cheek and took a deep breath. It helped a little. 

“Do you want a break?” Azriel softly asked, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. 

“No.” You let out a wet laugh and palmed at the wetness under your eye. “I’ve only been talking for a few minutes. I just get angry, I’m fine.” 

You paused after that, collecting yourself, but also getting lost in your head. Memories swirled together and assaulted your thoughts, reminding you of how terrible everything was and could be if this went poorly. Anxiety then came. And regret and confusion and hurt. 

You were too far off track to get back on the rails, so Azriel broke his own rule. “Why would you be useful, angel?” he asked, tracing his hand down to hold yours in your lap. 

“Oh,” you sighed, “Because I’m Beron’s daughter.”

[butch-bakugo]

Im back to this post because today, I literally got hit with it. Literally.

Like I've heard variations and tiptoes around just saying this but like ... Litterally got this.

I told my mother that even though I needed accommodations for my autism, I just can't feel safe getting an official diagnosis because of rfk jr and his wet dreams of a list and wellness camps and the end of all vaccines as we know it. She argued back and forth with me, dodging every fact I stated and statistic I threw at her about the reality of ableism and the treatment of autism and the eugenics these fuckers throw out. Constantly ignoring and interrupting me with the literal line of " I know this (she didn't have a clue) but what are you gonna do?". Like it was bait, like my concerns about my rights that she voted out were pointless and unrealistic, like she, who didn't even know that I already had autism when I was fucking developing inside of her and dose not have autism herself and actively went out of her way to ostracize me and make me feel horrible about myself because she was a social master and I struggled to speak, knew better about the treatment of autistic people better than me.... A FUCKING AUTISTIC PERSON. A PERSON WHOSE BEEN INFORMALLY DIAGNOSED MUTLIPLE TIMES.

After all my information and smack of reality all she had for me and my woes was a splash of " Well, we can disagree but what are you gonna do?" And a dash of " if you can't cope without the help you could get, what will you do?"

And I did feel a little pleasure in responding with" there's nothing I can do but try to cope on my own and wait it out. I don't have another option. Its suffer or risk whatever grand plan that eugenicist has in store for me. I'm not risking it and I will suffer."

And then she got a call about her insurance. We didn't speak again.

They truly do not understand that its suffer on your own and risk death or accept what the government/people around you could do to you and still risk death. Disabled people don't have any good or valuable options. Suffer or Suffer. Cope alone or hope you don't get dehumanized and literally euthanized. Hope you get an accepting employer or starve.

We, quite literally, don't have any other options. So start becoming a better disability ally.

I hate how often some (typically abled) people will go “well, if you can’t [get a specific support], then what?” when it comes to disabilities. As if it’s a “gotcha” moment. And then act like you’re exaggerating when you answer that question honestly.

Disabled people often die from a lack of support. A lot of disability aids are not a luxury, but a basic need in order to live.

“Well what happens if—” people die. People hurt themselves. People hurt others. Disabled people don’t magically become abled if our needs aren’t met.

If a bedbound quadriplegic is caught in a housefire, and there’s nobody there to save them, they’ll probably die. They won’t magically become able-bodied out of sheer will.

If a nonspeaking/nonverbal autistic is denied access to alternative methods of communication, they’ll suffer in silence. They won’t spontaneously become capable of speech.

Disabled people are disabled all the time. Our disabilities don’t go away just because they’re inconvenient, or if we’re in danger.

[boreal-sea]

Look. The links between the Jews being attacked and Palestine/Israel are going to become more and more tenuous. The attack on the embassy workers was justified in the pro-Palestine crowd because they directly worked for Israel. The attack in Boulder was justified because they were walking for the current hostages still held by Hamas. Not walking for Israel, not walking for Zionism… but people are assuming they’re “Zios” anyway. Because they have to, to justify their deaths.

And because the left has been using Zionist as a slur (just like Nazis do), they now have an out for any violence against Jews.

And we TOLD you this was going to happen. We told you to stop using Zionist as a slur, we told you to stop using “Zio”, that it was literally a slur invented by a white supremacist. We told you that Nazis and the far right have been using Zionist to mean Jew for decades, and you ignored us.

Slurs are verbal violence, and they encourage and justify physical violence. And now that violence is murder. If you ever used Zionist in a derogatory way online or irl, you are personally responsible for these murders. You used violence with your words, and you enabled physical violence. You have given people permission to enact physical violence against any Jew they dislike as long as they call them a Zionist.

American Jews will die, and the attacker will yell “free Palestine” even though the Jews in question have nothing to do with Palestine. And you will shrug and go “well, they must have been Zionists”. And you’ll justify the deaths of innocent Americans because you’re a leftist, and you can’t possibly be antisemitic.

[moon-ttokki-x]

Hii!! I absolutely adore your work, especially your 9th member stuff!

I was wondering if there was anyway to write an imagine where the reader is the second oldest hyung (younger than Chan but older than Minho) and acts like a mother figure occasionally. And her and Chan are super close (possibly secretly dating?) and the other members start to catch on during little moments during interviews and stuff like that.

Or even just short blurts/headcannons of something like “Chan and y/n being in love for 5 minutes straight.”

I totally get that this is a lot to ask, so if you want to tweak it that is completely up to you! You don’t even have to do this if you don’t want to. xx 🩵

hi thank you sm <3 this is cute. i liked the idea of doing a short headcanon sort of thing, so here . . .

"hyung, are you in love with y/n?"

pairing: bang chan x fem 9th member!reader

summary: chan can't hide how smitten he is, and skz begins to catch on . . .

genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, fem!reader i think, just pure fluff, maybe a little suggestive idk?? there's literally nothing else to write tbh this is just super short and sweet (like chan) who said that omg it wasn't me . . .

a/n: yep

skz masterlist

Smitten!Chan who can't help but stare at you during interviews; his gaze always drifts to you even when you're not the one talking. He tries so hard to pay attention, he really does, but he just can't help it; you look so pretty, with your makeup done and your hair styled so perfectly.

Smitten!Chan who can't stop a little smile from curling the corners of his mouth when you smile just at him; he covers it up with a hand, seemingly brushing something off his lip, but he knows it won't fool anyone. He's all lingering touches, on your lower back, your cheek, your hair when he pats it, your arms when he adjusts your position in the choreo.

Smitten!Chan whose hand stays just a little too long to be innocent or friendly. Has a little chain bracelet with your initial on it tucked down his forearm, unseen and covered by his long sleeves. Never takes it off, and you wear yours around your ankle, the tiny 'CB' almost invisible. You know, unless someone looks a little too close...

Smitten!Chan who steals kisses in the dressing room, fighting not to kiss you too hard, otherwise he'll ruin your perfect makeup. You have to push him off once you hear the members coming down the hallway, but it's a struggle when he wants to keep you in his arms. His hand brushes yours as you both walk down to the backstage area. He can't help but steal glances at you when he's motivating the members with his usual hype speech.

Smitten!Chan who has to fight the urge to kiss you in front of Stay. He wants the whole world to know so badly; but he knows you wouldn't be comfortable with that right now, so he holds back. Expect to be called to his room for a quick 'discussion'. Long story short, Jeongin walked in at the wrong time and saw you both in each other's arms, faces close to each other. Talk about traumatising.

Smitten!Chan who frantically waves his hands, shushing him, and quickly runs to clamp a hand over his mouth. You can't fight the giggles when Chan sits him down on the bed, trying to get him to keep quiet. Jeongin's accusatory glance is enough to make you let out a giggle, and enough for Chan to exasperatedly glance at you out of the corner of his eye.

Smitten!Chan who gives up and lets Jeongin-whisper rant at both of you, making frantic hand-gestures, trying to madly piece together how you both ended up as a couple. It doesn't take him long, but by then you're on the floor, wheezing. A slight smile escapes Chan's mouth and he raises his hands in defeat. He lifts a pinky to make Jeongin promise not to tell the other members, a stern look on his face, though you can tell part of him has given up on keeping you both secret.

Smitten!Chan who gasps and almost jumps out of his skin when the door flies open, the lock giving way, and the members tumble into the room in a heap. Minho stands behind them all with his phone filming, and there's a smirk on his face that clearly communicates 'this was my idea'. Chan slaps a palm over his forehead before the both of you are tackled to the floor by the maknaes.

Smitten!Chan who watches Minho's video later with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, cheeks tinging pink at the way you look, giggling and flushed and pretty. He has to turn the video off before tangling himself in the sheets, a grin spreading his face, the rustling of the bed and several excited squeaks the only sounds as a result of his cuteness-aggression.

Smitten!Chan who finally falls asleep with the video still playing, drifting off into sleep with the faint knowledge that he'll have to confront his members tomorrow. No doubt they'll be as loud and excitable as they were tonight, but at least it'll be easier with you by his side. The faint volume of the video's audio plays in the background, and Felix's excitable, disbelieving voice plays in a faint, muted loop in the stillness of the night.

"Hyung, are you in love with Y/n?"

a/n: chan and the colour red just go so well together 🔥

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[vintagecandy]

1920s Edward Nygma, A.K.A -- The Riddler! ( I will try to make this one slightly more brief lmao ) ☆ ETSY // COMMISSIONS

So when it comes to the Riddler, ordinarily, I always struggle with him aesthetically, because he doesn't have as much obvious themeing as "southern halloween" or "the entirety of alice in wonderland", and so I knew I wanted to take advantage of how severely I am rearranging all the rogue's aesthetics to give the Riddler something specific and time period appropriate to visually do, yknow?

In my mind, when I think of the Riddler I think of... technically winnable but highly tilted competitions of wit. Almost like a rigged game. That, combined with a very cocky "wise ass" personality. So! I knew pretty early on I wanted him to be a carnival barker! ( Puzzles and riddles and things of that nature were more common as a pass-time back then ) I considered giving him a straw boater instead of his usual bowler hat... but the bowler hat is so iconic to him and time period appropriate, so I left it. I think it still gives carnival owner, tbh, just a little more greasy than cute. Which fits, frankly. Yes, so although carnival imagery is associated with the Joker, the Joker is, of course, a silent film comedian ( in loving homage to his origin ), thus freeing up the funhouse for Edward. Although, he's no clown, he's more the one making a fool out of you.

Edward Nygma, as an orphan immigrant of Irish descent, came to America with nothing but the clothes on his back and his eyes on that shining city on the hill, the beacon of opportunity, and above all-- the land of meritocracy. Of course, however, reality set in after he stepped foot off the boat. It also didn't help the city he set foot in was Gotham. Despite being an engineering prodigy befit the rapidly industrializing city of the future, he ran into bad luck after bad luck, constantly seeming to stumble on his way up the ladder as opportunities slipped away and seemed to be given to-- in his mind-- less deserving men. With his frustration mounting, and a compulsive mind that never seems to let him let any insults to his pride go, it all comes to a breaking point when one of Gotham's biggest corporations scams him out of the patent for one of his innovations. Its only then does he finally realize what the "land of opportunity" really means.

Giving up on the "honest man" approach, Edward resorts to cheap cons, eventually building enough success to open a carnival of games, mysteries, snake oil, and of course, riddles-- Taking on the performer name "The Riddler" as a face for the event. A big, shiny bauble to lure in the dumb masses to willingly fork up their money to him. After all, if they were stupid enough to fall for it, they deserve whatever happens to them. However, this was all a front for the far grander scheme he constructs to take down the company who wronged him all that time ago. Because who would ever suspect a two-bit carnie could be capable of such a thing?

But, careful as he was, stirring trouble that big was enough to bring the attention of the Bat, eventually-- of course-- leading to the reveal that the Riddler anticipated their arrival and turned his carnival into a puzzle laden death trap. Even though Batman wins, because of course, he does incidentally ( or perhaps on purpose ) reveal to the public that the Ed is the real genius behind his stolen tech, thus leaving Mr. Nygma laughing all the way to the mad house. Even if he still doesn't get to own the patent.

Edward has a more... modern and subtle mental illness, being his OCD and other symptoms, and I feel a corrupt 1920s mad house that only vaguely cares to cure its patients would struggle to even understand exactly what the source of his more erratic behavior is coming from. He's constantly tense, speaks a mile a minute and for long periods, and is prone to sudden and aggressive outbursts of anger. They will likely acknowledge he seems obsessive, hyperactive, and prone to grandiose thinking but consider him a less hopeless case compared to say, Jervis Tetch.

However, his alignment lands him squarely in the anti-society section, thus aligning him with his soon to be sometimes-partners in crime, Jonathan and Jervis.

[moki-dokie]

and i'm gonna say something wildly unpopular here but frankly even the worst human beings alive deserve rights and bodily autonomy. yes, even if they took it away from someone else. saying otherwise is the same fucking rhetoric as saying rapists deserve to be raped and thus wanting MORE rape and rapists in the world.

i say this as someone who has been sexually assaulted, many times, as a child, by both family and strangers. i say this as someone whose sister was violently raped and murdered as a child.

if i can have a shred of decent human empathy, what the fuck is yalls excuse for calling for more harm and more abuse and more trauma and more ways to fuck up an already fucked up person?

chemical castration is nothing short of barbaric, long-term, slow torture. it's state-sponsored assault. and it does absolutely fuckall to stop that person from raping or assaulting someone again. like, you think lowered testosterone and a low libido is gonna stop someone? really? you think THATS the answer? you think you're safer around a sex offender because he has a hard time getting it up?? newsflash, assholes, you don't need a boner to rape someone. you don't need a penis to rape someone. you don't even need to be aroused to rape someone. but if you really really REALLY require an offenders sex drive be policed, a motherfucking chastity belt secured like an ankle monitor would be just as effective and more humane. and i'm so serious about that too. there are PLENTY of chastity cage/belt designs made specifically for hygienic 24/7 wear. implementing the same monitoring system and fasteners as ankle monitors have would be ridiculously easy. also cheaper. and it would do the exact same thing, which is basically fucking nothing except making it harder for that person to have genital-based intercourse. but at least it wouldn't inflict lifelong, debilitating medical and mental issues on the human being you're going to put back into the public. but see the thing is none of these institutions give a single shit about the human being behind the offender. they don't care about making anyone safer. they don't care. period. nor do the people who advocate for chemical castration. if yall actually cared, yall would be pushing for prisons to be rehabilitation centers and continued support after release and programs to properly integrate people back into society.

"what about those who volunteer to get it" i hear the fascists shouting as if they have a point. you cannot get proper informed consent under the conditions prisoners are kept, so "voluntary" use of it is extremely dubious at best. I'm sure there are quite a few who do actually truly and authentically consent to it and all of the problems that come with it. but until prisons stop being torture and trauma factories where most inmates will do just about anything to get out sooner and lawyers are always pushing for some sort of deal, i don't trust the decision was really voluntary at all. i don't think it should even be an option at all, though.

let us also not forget this was once used for the crime of being gay as recently as the 1950s in the UK. and as cavegirlpoems before me said, Once you've decided that there's a class of people it's okay to do this to, there's no clean line in the sand anymore.

[sturkillerbase]

Touch Starved!

Summary: How the JJK men touch you before and after being in a relationship with you - and how they're always dying to do so!

Neutral reader!

Including: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru (separated)

Genre: Fluff (lots of it!)

Wordcount: 5.8k total - 1.8k for Nanami and Gojo. 2k for Geto's

Notes: Very quick mention of periods in Gojo's, but it's so quick you can easily ignore it if you're a person who doesn't get periods. No physical descriptions and no use of Y/N.

Warnings: One brief mention of (little) blood.

A/N: Boy oh boy. This has been sitting in my docs for over a month as I ponder weather it's good enough for posting or not. Reasons being that 1. it's my first JJK fic and 2. I haven't written anything in over 2 years. So I'm really not confident about my rusty writing skills. When I was proofreading it, I thought Nanami's part wasn't good enough, but didn't know how to make it better! Which led to two more weeks of me not wanting to post it. But today I've summoned the courage and BAM! Here it is! Anyways, hope you like it (and let me know if you do, please)! Proofread but let me know if you spot some error.

Nanami Kento

Nanami never touches you. He may be dying for any kind of touch - a slight brushing of hands when you hand him something, your arms pressing against each other during a car drive, accidentally bumping into you as he enters the room you’re exiting – but none of it ever happens. He wouldn’t let it. He’s too respectful to let it happen. Damn, he’ll rush to the car just so he can take the passenger seat before anyone else does. Well, the front seats are more dangerous, of course he’ll take it so anyone else does. And his legs are longer anyway so there's more room for him. These are his actual reasons, right?

Plus, a ten-minute drive would turn into a ten-hour long one in his brain if you were pressed against him. Every tiny bump on the road making you press and rub on each other for a fraction of a second. He’d probably pass out.

The most he’d touch would be with his fingertips, ever so slightly, barely there even. And only on your shoulders or the very top of your back, in case he needed to walk past you in a narrow space, or maybe get your attention silently.

And even with that, he’d be flexing his hand open and then closing it into a tight fist, nervous like a little boy. His face was absolutely neutral, though. Yes, kinda like that one Pride and Prejudice scene.

There was this one time he really messed up. Couldn’t even sleep that night. He was sitting at the table, talking to Shoko, and as he described whatever it was that he was talking about (he couldn’t remember anymore), he stretched out his arm to the side in a gesture, just as you were walking by, and accidentally brushed your thigh, close to your knee. A feather-like, quick brush.

Oh no.

He apologized deeply. Sincerely. Guilt (and shame) in his face, his voice, his whole body. You said it was okay, that it was nothing, no need to worry. All while giving him that damn sweet smile of yours. You sat down as well, joining them, and as he felt heat creep up from his stomach to his neck, he excused himself and stood up quickly, fixing his perfectly-in-place tie, so none of you would see him blushing. What if you were just being nice? What if you thought he was disrespectful? A creep? What if you didn’t like him anymore? Hated him? He was in a cold sweat, laying on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, barely blinking.

But oh boy was he touch starved. He craved for the most simple things. Anything would do it at this point. A high five. A gentle poke of your finger on his shoulder. Taking an eyelash off your cheek with his fingertip and having you blow it away for luck.

He’d been thinking of a chance to hug you. Being able to feel your soft form against him as he gets to smell your lovely perfume straight out of you, and not just having the breeze blow it towards him. Honestly that breeze was very disrespectful, forcing him to smell things he couldn’t have.

How far was Christmas? He could hug you then. Or New Years perhaps. There was also your birthday. It’s okay to hug people on their birthdays, he could do that without being weird.

There was this other time that caused him to heat up like a boiler. You fixed his tie after he finished tying it back around his neck, after a particularly intense fight against several curses at once. Technically, you didn’t touch him, you just touched his tie. But he felt your fingers lightly on his chest, just above his dress shirt. That alone was enough to have him shaking. “There. Better.” You said, looking up at him with a soft smile. How did you manage to look so cute even after a crazy, tiring fight, clothes covered in dust, a tiny splash of blood across your cheek? He, once again, had to hide his intense blushing, muttering a low “thank you” as he looked away, cheeks red and ears on fire. He cleared his throat, trying to see if he could get his voice to sound anything above a whisper. He was just fine after all that fight, it was you who had taken away all of his strength. Thankfully, there wasn’t much light where you were to make his obvious blush contrast against his pale skin and hair. You didn’t see it.

He started dusting off his clothes, tapping away at himself, more to get his head out of those nervous thoughts than to actually clean himself. You did the same. And then, as he finally recomposed himself enough to turn back to you, your arm reached up. Up, up, up above his jaw, his ear, to the top of his head.

“There’s something here…” you said, nonchalantly, as you brushed out something that had gotten caught in his hair.

God, why were you so touchy today?!

He just watched your movement, thanking you with a little “mm-hm” – there goes his voice again.

There was something on your hair as well. He had noticed earlier. Could he brush it away for you too? Would it be weird if he did? Was doing that being a gentleman? Well, it wouldn’t be gentlemanly of him to let you walk out with something – a tiny thing – on your hair, right?

“There’s, uh-“ He started, nervous “you have something up here, too…” he said, and then reached for it with a touch so light you didn’t even feel it. But he did. And oh my, was your hair soft.

“Thank you.” you said, cheerfully. He gave you a brief nod.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He then quickly grabbed his phone to call Ijichi so he could come pick you two up and get him away from this dangerous scenario he found himself in: you.

When Ijichi finally arrived, Nanami did what he always does, and rushed to the passenger seat. And once you were all seated and buckled up, and Ijichi started driving again, Nanami cursed himself for forgetting to open the car door for you. Where were his manners? His mother taught him better than that.

Later that night, the warmth from your fingers adjusting his tie was still lingering on his chest. He covered his face with a pillow and let out a long, “I’m such an idiot”, loud breath.

Things didn’t change much after you started dating. He had, somehow, managed to gather up the courage to ask you out (this may or may not have involved Gojo telling him he would tell you about Nanami’s crush himself, in front of everyone, very loudly). On your first date, the only touch was your goodbye kiss on his cheek, which had him giggling and kicking his feet in the air the moment you closed the door to your place and he was out of your eyesight. He smiled to himself about it all through the night until he fell asleep, heart beating quickly.

On your third date, you slipped your fingers through his as you two walked around the park, under colorful trees. When you parted ways, his hand was burning, shaking even. He considered not washing it that day.

On the fourth date, he was bold! Reaching across the table to hold your hand. That night, he took another extra step and kissed your cheek back, slipping a gentle pinch to your chin as he wished you a good night, which had you melting.

Took him a few more dates to get comfortable touching you. Now, don’t get him wrong. He wanted to do it desperately, but he didn’t know if he was more afraid of disrespecting you or just touching you at all, like a pre teen boy around his very first crush. Still, he’s a man who takes his time, and respects yours above all else.

After you’re in an established relationship though, Nanami can finally wrap himself around you, just like he’s always dreamed of. And much before Christmas too! He’ll kiss you all over when you least expect it. He’ll lay on your lap, or lay on you, as you’re resting on the couch. You never fell asleep without being in his arms again - except when he cuddles into you and you have him in your arms instead. He’ll hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as you do something, even as you’re brushing your teeth. And don’t be surprised when he does it while you’re showering too! Walk by him whenever he’s sitting down and be sure he’s going to pull you into his lap, earning a cute little gasp from you. He holds you with so much care and love, like you’re the very reason for his breathing, but at the same time tight enough to make sure you’ll not, somehow, slip away. Like you would ever!

His kisses? Slow, tender, filled with love and affection, eyes full of adoration as he pulls away and looks into your own, gently caressing your cheek. You didn’t know you could ever meet someone with so much love in them. Nanami didn’t know he could feel so much love in him.

He’s the softest. And he’s the softest even in your most private moments, when things get particularly intense. Within the rough gripping and the clashing of teeth, you can still feel the tenderness in his touch, and the extra care in the little love bites he leaves all over your body. He may grab your neck or pull your hair, but always a bit less than you both know you can take. You’ve told him he could let go, but that’s just Nanami. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than that to you. Even if he wanted to give you that extra harsh slap that you ask him for (beg even) as you’re out of breath, his hand just… can’t. 

And you love him exactly as he is.

He’s not one for a lot of public display of affection. He likes to keep his private life private. Also, he’s a bit shy when around others. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do anything at all. Holding your hand, keeping an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead, taking your arm into his as you walk through a crowded place - he couldn’t bare accidentally getting separated from his dearest.

And don’t forget the little soft pinches on your chin, just like that one time on your fourth date. He normally sneaks those when you’re in a setting where he can’t give you a quick kiss, or, honestly, just for the fun of it, because he loves to watch you absolutely melt, cheeks growing pink and a childish smile spreading on your face. Every time. Every. time.

Sometimes he even thinks that you might be his actual heart, and this thing that is beating inside his chest is just… something else.

And when he looks at you, no matter where or when, he just knows he will never stop being so eager to touch you, however it is. How could he? You’re the love of his life, after all.

Gojo Satoru

Now, we all know Gojo is all over everybody. Always slinging his arms around other people’s shoulders and invading their personal space. Especially if it’s someone he’s fond of. Not that he doesn’t touch people he dislikes and that he knows dislike him back, just to annoy them. It’s his not-so-secret pleasure.

So yeah, he’s always all over you. Giving you attention or pouting as he begs for your attention. It becomes more and more frequent, and he doesn’t hide it. Soon it’s clear for everybody that he's crushing hard on you. The students start teasing him during class and as they cross paths at school, but he just let’s them. It’s the truth, anyway.

But if you think he’s not touch starved even though he’s constantly touching you, you’re wrong. Very wrong. He’s longing, aching for more. And it’s not sexual, no. Not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind more than once, but it’s not it. He wants to pick you up and bury his nose on your neck. Wants to kiss you every time you do something great, and kiss you every time for no reason other than wanting to as well. Wants to hold you extra close, your body tight against his, face on his chest, as you two fall asleep together. He wants you to run your fingers through his hair as he lays on your lap after a long, exhausting day. Wants to massage your neck and shoulders when you are the one who had a long day. Once you complained about menstrual cramps and said you really wish you had a heat bag around. Well, it took everything on him to not launch himself at you and place his warm hands over your lower belly (yes, he’s an “uterUS” guy). 

When he gets to hug you, as in, when he just hugs you for no reason, he gets your scent all over him and his clothes for the rest of the day, and oh, he loves it. Find him walking around with a dumb(er) smile plastered on his face for the rest of the day. But when night comes and he’s alone at home, he begins to despise it, because you’re not there. And of course he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem by texting the guy group chat he made exclusively for talking about his crush on you. Poor Geto and Nanami (Nanami has left the group chat several times, but Gojo keeps adding him back). He even sends whiny audios. 

He doesn’t want to mess things up with you. So he’s also asked the girls around him for dating advice. Shoko quickly dismissed him with a thick puff of cigarette smoke. Mai just told him “don’t” because she thinks you deserve better. Nobara started by listing all the reasons he was not fit for having a girlfriend, but eventually started talking so much about what a guy should do and how a guy should behave that he had to start taking notes on his cellphone so he wouldn’t forget anything. Of course, when he thanked her, she made him buy her a new jacket as an actual thank you. 

And while he doesn’t come up with a date idea he’s satisfied with, he’ll have to settle with what he has for now.

And as you two get even closer, you start to get touchier too. You start by poking him around every now and then, eyes glowing with mischief when you find his ticklish spots. You lean into him as you two are looking down at the same thing. Hold onto his arm randomly, just because. Until you also start hugging him at any chance you get. And oh boy, is Gojo absolutely delighted. His hopes were more up than ever, and this was a sample of heaven. Actual heaven would be when you two finally get into a relationship. Preferably married. Geto and Nanami keep having to tell him to calm down.

Your first date wasn’t like Gojo planned. In fact, he didn’t even ask you out. But it wasn’t bad at all. 

It happened when you two found yourselves in a strangely romantic setting after fighting some grade one cursed spirits that showed up in the middle of a crowded carnival. Of course, everyone fled the place, and it was deserted, but everything was still working (except for a couple rides and tents that were destroyed during the fight). So, you and Gojo grabbed some (free!) snacks and headed to the ferris wheel, admiring the night sky together.

“This kinda feels like a date, doesn’t it?” He said after a brief moment of comfortable silence, without thinking much, and mentally facepalming at his dumb ass and big mouth. He kept his eyes glued onto the sky after this and stuffed his face with more candy.

“Do you want it to be?” You asked, chill on the outside, shaking on the inside.

Gojo looked at you so fast his neck actually hurt, eyes wide and cheeks full of candy, just like a chipmunk. He swallowed it all down with a big, kinda painful gulp.

“Well, I– I wouldn’t mind…” he answered, his heart beating so fast his chest was hurting. Or was it the candy he swallowed way too soon?

You could see his whole face turning red even under the dim light, and you held back a giggle. Seeing this big guy turn into a very tiny one so quick was adorable.

“Cool. It’s a date, then.” You said with a smile. 

It was no surprise that you two kissed on that very same night, you being as down bad for him as he was for you. Gojo was glad your eyes were shut as you kissed, this way you couldn’t see him frowning and scrunching up his nose as he tried his best not to kiss you desperately. ‘Be normal, Gojo Satoru’, he thought to himself.

Of course, he acted like his super chilled self once you parted, smiling like he wasn’t squealing like a little girl in his head.

Didn’t take long after he became your boyfriend for him to start suggesting you two should move in together. Took even less time for him to start begging for it.

“But baby, I want to cuddle with you every night, and wake up still holding you every day, and have the entire house smelling like you always, especially when you walk out of the shower. I want to sniff all that soap scent out of you. Please! I don’t want to be left with just some pictures of you when I could have real you there.” He said the last sentence with a big pout and huge puppy eyes. You had come to find his eyes could, somehow, get even bigger when he was being whiny like this.

You had also come to find that you couldn’t say no to him.

Damn that lanky man.

Oh, and by “some pictures”, don’t believe him. It was loads of pictures. There were countless pictures of your face everywhere in his house: in the living room, in the kitchen, the bedroom, the study, and even in the bathroom. Yes, he hung one there and refused to take it out. Even when you moved in. So you gave up trying to get it out of there and instead hung a picture of him by yours.

He loved it.

Although finally satisfied with how much he could touch you at any time he wanted, at night he would still wrap himself all around you, entangling his long legs with yours, elated that you were his at last. It was uncomfortable sometimes, having these bumps between you and the mattress, but getting out of his embrace wasn’t a choice. All you could do was wiggle and grunt a little until he moved his limbs into a more comfortable position for you - because he, for one, didn’t mind being uncomfortable as long as he was all around you. Holding you tight was his idea comfortable. And God, if he could become one with you he absolutely would.

Even during summer, he would turn on the AC on the lowest setting just so he could be all over you without you complaining about it being too hot. And if the house got too cold, don’t worry, he’ll heat you up with his whole body, like a personal, portable heater. Or a living blanket.

You were never cold during winter either, because at the smallest of the chills on your body, he would be there. Be it by rubbing your arms and hugging you while you were out or pulling a warm, fuzzy blanket over the two of you when you were home. Hell, he didn’t even think it was that bad when you mischievously put your ice cold feet on his back simply for the fact that that was you touching him. And your punishment for this? Being trapped tightly in his arms while he showers you with quick, loud kisses that makes the skin on your face and neck tickle. Oh, and he will sneak a kiss right on your ear, just to watch you squirm and the goosebumps on your skin, your laugh and his filling the room. 

Worried you'll crush him when you lay on top of him. Well, worry no more, really - he wants you to.

Gojo couldn’t be any happier.

And that group chat? Never forgotten. He would still constantly update the boys on everything you two did together. 

“We fought :C”

“We’re talking again!!!!”

“We went out and had swiss roll cake today ☺️”

Nanami blocked him when he got the “GUYS, IT HAPPENED! WE SPENT THE NIGHT TOGETHER” message. If there was one thing Nanami would not read it would be what Satoru Gojo did in bed with someone.

But be not afraid. Gojo would never, ever expose you like that. No. He’d pluck his eyes out and die before he did anything harmful to you. What he did was ramble on and on about how perfect it was and how happy he was and how it was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

Poor Geto (who has the patience of a saint, really) had to go through it all, reading each new message slowly, with care and fear, also afraid that Gojo could end up spilling too much in his excitement.

All Geto could say after Gojo was done talking was “I’m glad for you, Satoru 😊”, earning several lovestruck stickers from Gojo.

Since he started dating you, it never took too much to make the man happy. Just being with you, seeing you, or even just mentioning you was enough to have him glowing. 

But nothing compared to having you in his arms, safe and sound.

It did take a whole lot to get Nanami to unblock him, though.

Geto Suguru

Dear Geto’s hands are tingling, itching, burning to touch you. When he’s watching you, he unconsciously starts fidgeting with his hands, rubbing his fingers together, digging his nails into his palms, cracking his fingers, shoving them into his pockets so he can grab the fabric of his pants.

Gojo notices how Geto starts doing this more and more often, but he hasn't figured out why yet. Until the day he’s finally going to ask Geto if he’s alright, and if there’s anything going on. When he shifts his gaze from Geto’s hands to his face, he catches him stealing a look at you, not so discreet this time. He was clearly not paying attention to what Gojo was saying just seconds ago.

A smile creeps up on Gojo’s face. He thinks it’s cute, really. Seeing his best friend fall for someone. But what’s much, much better is that now he’s got an amazing reason (or should we say one more) to tease poor old Suguru nonstop.

But what Geto doesn’t realize is that he’s already touching you. All the time. You two are close friends. Have been for good a while. And he’s always respected you, obviously. You are comfortable around each other. So it kind of makes sense that he doesn’t notice when he starts doing so.

He’ll sometimes whine about being tired as the two of you are sitting down on the couch, and lay his head on your shoulder. He also does that when you show him something on your phone. If you two are standing, he’ll rest his cheek on your head.

Other times, he’ll just hook his pinkie around yours as you walk side by side. When you’re in a crowded place though, he’ll either walk behind you with his hands on your shoulder, especially if he's guiding you somewhere or you're guiding him, or sneak his arm around your waist. Depends if he’s feeling more playful or moody that day.

Oh, and speaking about waist, that’s his absolute favorite spot to hold you. He’s standing or leaning somewhere and you come by? He’ll immediately reach out for your waist and pull you close, having you rest your body against his. He’s sitting down and you’re standing? There comes that arm firmly pulling you to him, thumb gently rubbing your side.

The latter had you start to (also subconsciously) do something similar: if you’re sitting and he stops by your side, you’ll give his pants a gentle tug to get him to stand closer so you can rest your head on his hip. And no one is surprised when, after a while, Geto’s hand goes from resting on your shoulder to caressing your head.

Oh, don’t forget the amazing bear hugs he’ll give you all of a sudden, making you gasp in surprise and then start to giggle as you hug him back, wonderfully nestled into him.

He doesn’t even have to look before reaching for you anymore. He’s memorized all the bits of you at this point. He would think it’s ridiculous, hadn’t he been so oblivious to his own actions.

And you enjoy it all, leaning into him and basking in the warmth and peace that radiate from him. Because you like him just as much as he likes you. You just don’t know it yet.

Gojo noticed this not too long after noticing Geto’s feelings for you. He actually realizes you like Geto much before you do.  And he’s perplexed by it all. How can the two of you be so oblivious about it?! He’s so perplexed he doesn’t even tease as much as he normally would, too invested into watching the two of you being absolutely clueless around each other. Eventually he starts talking about it with Shoko, and they obviously make a bet on who’s going to confess first.

Geto also finds himself growing jealous and rather possessive of you (in a normal way, not in a toxic, creepy way). If looks could kill, so many people would’ve spontaneously combusted by now, just from the glare he sends anyone that stands too close or gets too funny around you. Especially that one friend of yours who’s way too comfortable with you. He’ll watch from a distance until his patience is entirely over, and then immediately make his way to you, arm glued to your waist before he’s even stopped walking, a fake ass smile on his face as he says something like “what are you two talking about?” or “what’s up, honeycomb?”. Or, to that friend he’s seen more times than he’d like, “I’m sorry, have we met before?”. He’ll even add an “Are you sure? I think I would remember you if we did” when he’s feeling extra spicy.

And still Geto Suguru’s hands are aching for you, for how touch starved he is. And he’s still fidgeting with them the moment he lays eyes on you.

Then, after far too many weeks of suffering - and finally telling his bestie about his crush - he’ll whine to Gojo about being so desperate for anything from you. About how glad he would be if he could at least hold your hand or have just one little touch from you. And he’s still mid mental breakdown speech when Gojo interrupts him with a 

“Bro, are you serious right now?”

And when he doesn’t understand Gojo’s question, the white-haired man has to tell him all that he's been watching for the past few months.

“You two just haven’t fucked at this point. Or have. But I really don’t wanna know.” Gojo shudders at the thought. “What I’m saying is, we all thought it was cute and funny in the beginning, but now it’s becoming almost painful to watch. Shoko and I are nearly giving up our bet. Nanami’s considering moving to the countryside sooner.”

And the ridiculous look that Geto has on his face, speechless, mouth dropped to a perfect shocked “O” after hearing it all, is priceless. Gojo is dying to pull out his phone and take a picture of him, but he’s not in the mood to get beat up at the moment (he got his hair cut today, ok?).

But Shoko, being the icon she is and having just entered the room after hearing her name, captures the moment perfectly, making the picture their groupchat’s icon right away.

Geto’s mostly silent for the rest of the day, processing the information. It was all so simple, so natural to be that close to you that he didn’t realize he was already all over you. He’s stunned. At himself, mostly, more than the situation as a whole. How did he not notice? Geto Suguru, who’s always so aware of himself, his every thought and every move (no wonder everyone thinks he’s so gracious, even when he’s sitting with his legs spread open).

He starts getting anxious that night soon after going to bed. What if he had gone too far? Invaded your personal space? What if you were secretly hating it, disgusted and uncomfortable, but couldn’t find a way out of this situation. He knows you can defend yourself damn well, but if that had messed you up mentally, things aren’t as easy and simple as kicking him in the balls.

But then you would’ve made something at this point, right? Avoid him and distance yourself. Plus, you’re close friends with Gojo as well, you would’ve said something or asked him for help if that was the case.

Also, Gojo may be stupid, but he’s not that stupid. And he’s got good eyes. He knows you well. If he says you like him too, the chances of that not being true are very low.

That calms him down… A little.

He decides that he’s got to think of something. Do something. If not ask you out, at least talk to you. Make things clear. And apologize if he has to. 

And then he, once again, unconsciously slips into daydreaming about a scenario where luck is on his side, and instead of laying down on his own to go to sleep as he is right now, he’ll be able to fall asleep with his arms practically tied around you, his nose shoved against your head so he can intoxicate himself with that delicious smell of your shampoo. He thinks falling asleep due to low oxygen because of doing so is a great way to fall asleep.

As you become significant others, he’s still doing all that he used to do (and much more, of course), but in a deeper way.

He’ll lay his head on your shoulder and loop his arm around yours. He’ll fully hold your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand is firm against your hip, holding you close to him. When he pulls you close as you’re standing and he’s sitting, he’ll loop his arms around your leg and hold your thigh, or both your thighs, as he rests his head on your side. Or he might pull you to his lap, nonchalantly. Who knows? 

Those bear hugs? Expect loads of them. Surprise or not. And now he’s also picking you up and showering you with kisses. He falls in love even harder when you get all giddy when he spins you around.

And his favorite, the arm around your waist as you two stand there. Now both his arms are around you, tighter than ever, obviously possessive even though he (again) doesn’t realize how possessive he looks when he does that. Especially when he’s leaning against something and his leg is slipping between yours, your hips tight against him, and he’s resting his chin on you (he doesn’t know why, but this one is heaven to him).

He’s so about touching you and feeling you, that when you’re in bed together, he doesn’t see the point of using something else to tie you up when he can just hold you in a position himself. He’ll use his own body and weight to keep you down, or, if he can’t hold you as he’d like (he only has two hands, unfortunately) he’ll command that you hold yourself in place so can use his hands to hold wherever else he’s got his mind on. You obey, obviously, mischievous or desperate, depending on how fucked up you already are at that point.

Aftercare? Showering you (he’ll clean you up in bed if your legs are too wobbly) and massaging your whole body, of course. He’ll kiss your body, following his hands, as he goes on, whispering sweet nothings. Then, he’ll pull you against his chest, wrapping both arms around you, so you can fall asleep listening to the always-calm, steady thud of his heartbeat. You’re both still naked, skin on skin, to be able to be as close to each other as humanly possible. He’s the happiest man on Earth.

He’s not shy of kissing you in public, either. From a peck to an open mouthed kiss, he’ll do it all. You’re the one growing red all over, actually. Having to push against his chest so he’ll pull away, especially when he’s going at it for too long.

“Oh, let them watch.” he murmurs as you point that everyone’s looking, your eyes darting everywhere in embarrassment “They’re either happy for us or straight up jealous” He says with those beautiful eyes of his staring so deeply into yours that you swear he can see your soul. “I’ve got the prettiest little thing there is anyway. All mine.” He holds your chin and kisses you one last time. He’s a teaser, but he respects it every time you ask him to stop.

Another thing he’s come to love is having you brush his hair, whether it’s in the morning or after naptime. Or at some random moment, just because he wants to feel you gently brushing it. And his favorite is after washing his hair. He’ll grab his hair products and comb and rush to you, closing his eyes as you gently untangle his hair and the delicate, flowery smell of the products fill the room. You always end it with an “all done, baby!” and a kiss to his forehead, and he thanks you looking up at you with loving eyes, following with a kiss on your lips. He wouldn’t trade moments like this for nothing in the world.

He loves you. And he loves loving you. And he adores holding you however it is.And even after all this time, his hands still itch, still tingle, still burn, and still get all fidgety every time he looks across the room and his eyes find you.

P.S.: Might write a part 2 of this for more characters once I get more comfortable with writing them, like Ino, Choso and Higuruma!

Divider by @uzmacchiato

[dollychou]

Can you PLEASE do more luffy head cannons? it can be NSFW or SFW anything would be fine but you don't need to if you don't want to!

luffy is genuinely the sweetest boy you've ever met. he looks out for you, so much more than he does the other members, whether he realises it or not. he will always walk in front of you or beside you, holding your hand or wrapping an arm around your waist.

luffy loves to spend time with you! he's always by your side no matter the time of day or night. he is genuinely stuck to you by your hips. sometimes it might feel overwhelming or overbearing but he just adores spending every waking hour with you.

luffy does NOT share his food but with you, he doesn't mind. he even lets you take whatever you want from his plate and he just smiles and gives all of it to you — no matter how much you deny him.

luffy adores cuddling with you whenever and wherever he can. his hands will roam around every inch of you and he loves to squeeze your cushiony flesh. before going to sleep, he will either have his hands on your chest or your tummy — he just loves how soft they are!

luffy will always cease the opportunity to pick you up and throw you over his shoulders and just run around the deck with you in his hands. no matter how much you yell or protest, he doesn't listen and just keeps going, enjoying the little joyful screams you let out and how you pat on his butt.

luffy is very playful in bed, a moment never too serious. he giggles when you try to be 'sexy' and though it gets you embarrassed, he will immediately give you a kiss to your forehead to tell you that you don't need to try and act with him. just be yourself!

luffy has a huge oral fixation on your boobs. he will suckle on them and squish them in his hands, giving little kitten licks to your nipples. he thinks it's so cute how you whimper when he does so.

luffy is the biggest munch ever! he will eat you out any time of day — he truly thinks of it as his appetiser. he makes the obscene and exaggerated slurping sounds when he's down there, drinking in all of your sweet juices.

luffy loves to have you on top of him. he loves to see your boobs bouncing up and down and how you grab onto them while rubbing your nipples as you let out the prettiest of moans.

luffy is quite big on aftercare. he will clean you up and kiss you all over, saying you did so well and he had such a fun time. he will cradle you in his arms, letting you rest on his chest. he will softly whisper sweet-nothings to you and tell you how much he loves you ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ ♡ !

© dollychou ⋮ do not copy, repost, or translate any works.

[biteofcherry]

In your peripheral vision, you see the other women in line trembling. Some cry quietly, and some try to brave through it. Some are quite flirtatious with their smiles and cute pouts.

Perhaps they're the smartest of them all, playing to the new fate instead of showing weakness, so the sharks won't rip them to pieces.

Most of them are young and you know what that means. Regardless of how the new regime tries to sell it.

They're ripe for the picking.

Brave soldiers and other useful cogs in the machine need to be rewarded. With wives. Or playthings.

It's heartbreaking to witness. Repulsive.

What the hell you're doing here, is the biggest mystery, though.

You and a few other women, who are past the typically desired age of below the point when the brain is fully formed. Or at least under thirty years old.

As you study the proceedings, forcing yourself to just stay still and survive, you quickly find the answer to your question.

A small team clad in dark navy combat suits, sans weapons and tactical gear, are marching down that line. Two men and a woman, who's probably supposed to put you all at ease. She's the one who decides if a woman is lead on the left side - where all those young, beautiful women are directed; or to the right.

As you notice, when it comes to "older" women, she studies not only their looks (those she briefly glances over) but reads files on the sleek pad in her hands. Then either points to the right, or have the soldiers escort them out.

To freedom, you hope, since you didn't hear any gunshots or dreadful ghost stories upon completely missing women.

Considering your own looks, your age and the fact you had zero influential connections, nor do you come from a wealthy family, your certainty to be released grew.

Seriously, there is nothing they could be interested in when it comes to you.

When it's your turn, the woman gives you a glance over.

You expected a quick, bored one, like with so many others. Unexpectedly, her gaze slowly drags up back to your face.

She tilts her head to the side, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

"You're not scared." She states.

"It would be stupid of me to not be scared." You reply steadily. "This summoning was sudden and nothing has been explained."

"And yet your breathing is regular, pulse doesn't appear quickened, you're not shaking like a leaf." Even if you despise the woman for being a part of this dark command, you have to admit she's perceptive.

A tiny sigh escapes your lips, clearly one of annoyance, though you hope it won't get you killed on the spot.

"It's obvious you're targeting women who are useful," you say, meeting her gaze. "Either in their beauty, youth and fertility-promising hips, or in their connections, wealth, or potential to bring political power."

"Since I fall in neither of those categories, I simply assume I'll be released back into my boring life."

Sometimes, it truly is a blessing to not stand out and be just an average woman.

The woman stares at you for a long, silent moment, before her mouth twitches in an amused smile.

She brings her wrist to her lips and says into the tiny, unnoticeable intercom:

"I've got someone you should meet."

You frown at that, suddenly feeling a spike of unease.

Would they punish you in some way just because you didn't shake in fear?

The woman doesn't point at you to move neither left nor right. She keeps you in place. But she orders one of the men accompanying her to bring your things, which have been taken from you when you were all guided into the big hall.

Just your handbag and within it your phone.

A few moments later, the entrance to the hall opens and an imposing silhouette strides in.

Breaths all around are taken in hitched, panicked rushes. Most of the women recognize the infamous leader, who brought the havoc and change that rocked your world.

He moves in a fluid prowl. His eyes quickly scans the area to settle on the woman who has to be within his close inner circle if she is allowed to address him by his name.

From her, his gaze shifts to you, and that's when fear switches on all of your survival instincts, flooding your body with adrenaline and your head with voices screaming at you to either run or play dead.

The woman gives him the pad, undoubtedly with your personal data on it. Her smirk isn't cruel, rather amused, as she explains why you're so interesting.

"Smart girl, figured out the workings. Held my gaze without flinching, too."

"Waiting for a gold star for understanding the basics of politics?" The man snorts, browsing through your file.

"A simple goodbye, go home, would suffice." It slips out of your mouth before you're able to stop yourself.

His eyes lift up from the pad. Crystalline blue of his irises slides you open like a scalpel.

"Her phone." He gives a short comman without taking his eyes off you.

The intensity of his gaze makes you gulp. A small betrayal of nerves that he notices instantly. A predator's triumph glinting in his eyes.

You would be really stupid not to fear him.

For physical aspect alone. He's much bigger. Broad and heavy. It would be no hardship for him to overpower you.

"Intel files are one thing," he says, skimming his fingers over your smartphone and easily bypassing all security.

"Apps, browsing history, and private folders, provide the juiciest truths."

Corners of his mouth twitch as he notices your pupils widening.

His smirk stretches into a wolfish grin when he looks down at the phone in his hand and opens one particular private folder.

Somehow, you know exactly which one.

With photos of you that shouldn't be seen by anyone other than you, or a man who you wanted to see you naked.

He is not that man.

Embarrassment fills you in a scorching wave, but you grit your teeth in hopes to not show how much you want to grab your phone back and hide.

You're not ashamed of those pictures. It's just that they are intimate and shouldn't be seen by someone like the monster in front of you.

"There are no juicy truths," you grit out. "Some risky selfies are the staple folder of ninety percent phone users."

"Ah, but are they smart enough to not only figure out the system here, but in what capacity to show me defiance without crossing the line that could cost you your life?"

He looks up at you again, with hungry interest and growing amusement.

"Don't sell yourself short. And tell me- are you, really?"

Before you ask what he means, he lifts your phone up, showing you the photo currently on the screen.

Not even the most scandalous. You with slightly tousled hair, cheekily smiling, with the tip of your tongue peeking out. And wearing a tight crop top with bold, pink letters.

Brat.

You know, you just know that you should drop your gaze and let the trembling part of you out on the surface. That would undoubtedly push you back into the bag of boring, mundane lot. Lose his attention.

That self-preservation instinct he claims you have doesn't react fast enough, though.

Forcing your lips into a tight smile, you reply in a stupidly challenging tone:

"I'm a fucking delight."

Something flashes in those blue eyes. Danger and joy.

Slowly, he slips your phone into his own pocket.

As his eyes hold you gaze captive, your heart hammers to the staccato of doom approaching you.

"Take her to my penthouse." He commands, not raking his eyes of you.

He drinks up each flicker in your eyes and the parting of your lips as his intent sinks in.

You won't be returning to your home.

"Assign someone to transfer her belongings and oversee the bureaucratic procedures. They have a week to prepare everything."

Your fingers twitch at your sides helplessly as he takes a step towards you. Then another, until he's fully looming over.

A single finger curls under your chin, tilting your face up.

"You're going to be my delight."

He says it almost softly, but it still cuts through you like a heavy guillotine.

" 'Til death do us part, brat."

_______________________________

Who is he?