#he's a walking red flag but he's always kind to you and he helped with your nightmares so maybe you're still friends?

[dira333]

Cats and dogs and bunnies too - Sakura Haruka x Reader

Timeskip

You notice it long before he mentions anything.

Sakura Haruka is fond of dogs. Cats too. Once, he even caught a little bunny that had been adamant about escaping its owners, petting it slowly with a look of utmost focus as he took it back.

But he’s careful not to show it too much. 

Sometimes he pretends he doesn’t notice the old dog at the corner flagging its tail at his sight until you walk over to pet it, like admitting to it would be a weakness.

-

Sakura Haruka has many weaknesses. 

He always stubbs his toe at night, when he gets up for a toilet break because he doesn’t want to turn on the light in fear of waking you.

He drinks too much coffee and forgets that he’s no longer sixteen but twenty-six now, that his back starts hurting if he sits hunched over for too long.

He never remembers sorting his clothes before putting them in the wash and wears the white-turned-pink shirts with pride after he accidentally drops one of your red panties in with the white laundry.

He’s married to you yet he tends to forget, staring at the ring on his finger in silent wonder at least once a week.

“Baby?” He asks one Sunday morning, his head in your lap, his laptop forgotten on the coffee table.

“Hm?” You massage his scalp, pretending to rub the stress from his temples.

“Could we get a dog?”

It’s a simple question, one you thought he’d ask much sooner. 

You wonder if he knows about the box of supplies in the back of your closet, of the surprise present that’s due any day now.

“Do you want one?” You ask back.

Haruka is quiet for a moment. You might think him asleep if not for the tension in his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he admits finally. 

“Good,” you lower down to press a kiss to his temple. “Then we’ll get one.”

“Really?” He blinks up at you, his eyes now soft and vulnerable, like they were when you met all those years ago. 

Haruka once told you that looking at you seems to make his heart crack open and looking at him now you can’t help but believe it.

“Really. What kind of dog do you want?”

“I don’t care,” he answers just like you knew he would. “What kind of name would we give it?”

“Well, let’s think about it. What if we get a little dog? What would you name a little dog?”

“How little?”

“Like a Corgi? Or a Spitz?”

“Princess.” The name shoots out of him too fast to be casual. He’s thought about it for sure.

You laugh, a little surprised by it. “I mean, sure, but you already call me that. Don’t you think it would get confusing?”

Under your gentle touch, his cheeks burst aflame.

He’s too flustered to speak and you let him stay quiet, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“What about a big dog?” You ask eventually. 

“Queenie,” he breathes out softly, clearly learning from his mistakes. You wonder if he knows that he’s only picked out female names so far.

-

“Haruka, can you come help?” You yell from the doorstep. “There’s a package but it’s too heavy for me.”

“Coming!” He calls out, jogging down the stairs in all his post-work-glory, the sweatpants and hoodie combo looking cozy enough to forget about the whole surprise.

“Kiss me first,” you command, pulling him in by the collar until you’re satisfied, grinning when he picks the package up with ease.

“Careful, it says fragile,” you point out as he carries it up, unaware of the other box you carry after him.

“What’s in it anyway?”

“I don’t know,” you lie, “Open it.”

It’s not properly taped shut, which he laments about as he fiddles with the tape. But all the words leave him when the box opens and he comes face to face with all the goods.

“Dogfood?” He asks, a little confused, picking up the bag. “Toys? You already ordered the stu-” He stops short when he sees you holding another box in your arms, this one already open.

“Don’t tell me-” Haruka breathes out, taking a step back as if he’s going to lash out in panic like he used to.

But he doesn’t. He just breathes, in and out, his eyes zeroed in on your face until he’s calmed himself enough to take a step forward.

Another one follows and then he’s close enough to touch you, yet he doesn’t.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s really heavy,” you joke just as Queenie’s head pops out of the box, the puppy clearly not amused about your arms shaking from her weight.

So many emotions flicker over his face, sad ones and happy ones alike. 

When Haruka reaches for the dog, his hands shake but his grip is gentle and his hold is steady.

It reminds you of the first time he held your hand, knuckles bruised and eyes tear-shot. He’d been gentle then too, even scared-shitless.

Maybe one day he’ll hold your kid like that too. But time will tell if and when that happens. 

There’s still a cat to adopt. And maybe a bunny too.

[esteemed-excellency]

I don't talk much about Hiram and the Commissioner but since I played motr I picture them as old friends who fell out of touch after a while. They still have a common goal, and even though he's helping her with the railway as she helped him find a home back in the day, their personalities are just too different now. But they both went through a lot.

Maybe they should meet more often again and have a nice talk.

[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

[chimielie]

“I really like this place,” Yachi says brightly, “the owner is really nice, and he doesn’t mind when I take ten minutes to decide what I want. Once I took twenty minutes and he actually just brought me food, like, decided for me, and at first I thought that was so nice! Then I got worried that maybe I should be upset that he didn’t let me choose, but then I remembered that I could just come here again so I wasn’t missing out on anything. The food was really good, anyway.”

You hover between the cool interior of the restaurant and the summer daylight as she speaks, unwilling to walk away even though she’s holding the door open and probably letting all the cold air out. With a short yelp, she realizes how long the two of you have been standing there and crosses inside. You stand behind her in the line behind the counter, shuffling forward as you read the posted menu.

“I think I’m gonna get the salmon,” you decide. “Hey, so how are things with that girl you’ve been seeing?”

“They’ve been good!” You’re about three people away from the counter, but the first one is line is like, a really huge guy with a booming voice who has been talking forever. Maybe he knows the cashier? “She’s really pretty, and she doesn’t mind or get impatient when I’m anxious. She also gets anxious!”

“That’s great?” You pat her on the shoulder. “I’m really happy for you, Yachi.”

“Me too,” she beams at you. “What about you? Have you met anyone?”

“No,” you snort. “I’m on the apps. So dating is basically a cesspool.” The giant guy who was ordering seems to be done now, but he’s still talking, being slowly dragged away by the elbow by a guy in a cardigan and glasses. You slide your phone out of your pocket and open your dating profile. “See?”

At that moment, your phone pings with a new notification.

Atsumu liked you!

He’s not… bad looking. If you saw him in real life, you’d probably hide behind a bench or something and stalk him with your eyes just so you could look at him as long as you wanted, actually.

He’s your age, a pro volleyball player, his hair dark where it’s been shaved short on the sides but dyed blond up top. He has a kind of sardonic, dead-eyed expression in all of his photos that you think is really funny.

My love language is… arguing in missionary.

You smother a laugh.

“He’s kind of cute!” Yachi peers at your phone. “Kind of scary…”

“Please, I could beat him up,” you laugh. “I don’t know, he’s fine, I guess.”

You swipe left. He’s hot, but definitely a fuckboy. You’ve reached the counter, anyway, and a pro athlete on the apps is like, so many red flags.

You look up at the cashier.

You look down at your phone and click undo. The profile reappears.

You look up at the cashier.

“Fine, you guess?” Scowls Atsumu, 23, (volley)baller. Or maybe not, considering his Onigiri Miya apron. “Welcome to Onigiri Miya, what can I get for ya. Geez.”

He talks in Kansai dialect, you note, which you’ve always thought is melodic. Pretty.

In real life, Atsumu is very pretty. His eyes have midtones of honey and amber that don’t show up on photo and give him a sparkling dimension that sort of detracts from his aura of evil. Even though he’s scowling at you, you want to ruffle his hair and bite his cheek.

“Um, I’ll have the salmon ball,” you say. “And, yeah. I guess.”

He scribbles so hard he breaks the tip of his pencil. With a grunt of disgust, he tosses both notepad and pencil over his shoulder.

“What, pro athlete not good enough for ya?” He points at Yachi, who squeaks. “And for ya?”

“What?” She says, looking terrified. You put a bracing hand on her shoulder.

“Your order,” he drawls.

“Oh! I don’t know.”

“Two salmon balls!” He yells to the back. “‘S on the house.”

“What?” Yachi gasps. “We couldn’t possibly—”

“You’re clearly not a professional athlete,” you say. “You’re a cashier.”

“This is charity work!” He snaps. “My teammate is right over there if ya need proof. I’m Miya Atsumu—this is my brother’s shop. I help him out on my off days.” He emphasizes his family name, underlining it on his apron with a finger.

That’s really sweet. You swoon a little inside, then shake yourself.

“You’re off every time this time this week?”

“Yeah, about,” he turns and bends over to grab his hastily discarded notepad. You do not make a secret of checking out his ass and quirk your lips into a smile when he turns back around, one he matches with reckless abandon. He has nice teeth, not perfectly straight, that imply that maybe he didn’t need braces growing up.

“Let me repay you for the meal,” you put a hand on the counter and lean across it, biting your lip, stomach singing with nerves. “Eight, next week?”

“Nah,” he shrugs you off, gestures for you to move along so he can get to the next customer in line. Your stomach drops, and so must your face. “Too far away. I’ll see ya this Friday for dinner.”

[thesilmarillionblog]

INSTANT CRUSH

Summary: Black Noir wants you to locate and investigate another supe one day while you are working for Vought. You stalk him to Herogasm just after injecting yourself with Temp-V.

Pairing: Black Noir / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), smut, stalking, awkward Black Noir, dirty talk (one sided obviously), rough Black Noir, choking, multiple orgasms, masked man kink, freak matching, herogasm

Word Count: 2836

A/N: English is not my first language.

⋆ Black Noir - The Boys (TV) Season 1-3 𓆩♡𓆪

It was hard work working for Vought, but it was even harder to ignore a black-suited, masked man whose voice and face you didn't even know.

Sadly, you had a small job in Vought and never really got to see any of the Seven in the daytime; they were all too busy saving America. However, one of them—the masked, voiceless, and faceless man who wandered around like a ghost—captured your attention from the moment you started working there months ago. Perhaps it was your masked man kink, or perhaps Black Noir was the perfect man in your imagination—quiet, mysterious, and unquestionably a walking red flag. However you were color blind anyway and it made him a green flag. He was so good for you.

In this sense, you couldn't dispute that you were also a strange one. Before you saw Noir, in fact, you had no idea that you would be attracted to that kind of man. Even though he had a menacing appearance with his black outfit and small, sharp blades covering his back, you thought it was sweet that he was communicating via paper. You should be alarmed by all of that because he appe

Thankfully, Black Noir came to your aid in the middle of the night when you were given directions to assist him in finding other supers tonight. You wished there were two of you instead of the few individuals in the room with you. It could provide you with a tiny boost in confidence.ared to be a dangerous one. But it did nothing more than arouse you.

“How can I help you, sir?” You attempted to look amused as you inquired, but he sat there doing nothing as you were sitting there in your chair, tapping on the keyboard. You pulled your hands to your sides and waited for him to show you his papers again. You smiled as he lifted the cold lime from your desk and brought the pipe to his mouth. He looked so adorable that all you wanted to do was kiss him until he died away and suffocate him in your own juice.

Your gaze met the plastic object between his knees; you could have easily put it in your mouth because of how near he was. If there was no one else in the room, you were absolutely certain that you would do it without second thought. It was exhausting to get lost in fantasies about him. 

All you wanted was for him to know that you were always up for an office fuck. You knew he could have murdered you in an instant, but you also knew that, at least in the back of your mind, he kind of liked your daring attitude around him. You felt the pull between you. Women always knew. 

You kept your mouth open while you awaited a response. He tilted his head, and you could almost hear him chuckling. And then, slowly, he turned you back to the television and gave you a piece of paper in your hands while gently placing his gloved fingers behind your head. 

You weren't sure if the reason your heart was beating so quickly was because you were frightened he would break your neck or fuck your lips. You were certain, though, that your underwear was as wet as the ocean. Your face reddened as you lost yourself in euphoric fantasies about him and his outfit. 

“You want me to locate that supe, sir?” When you asked for confirmation, he nodded quickly. 

While tracking the unfortunate supe, you also decided to stalk Black Noir when you learned that the supe you were looking for was having fun at Herogasm, a yearly perv party for supes. You were quite fortunate in some way. You felt that Herogasm would be a pleasant way to pass the time at that point. Stealing the Temp-V in his private room months earlier, you waited to use it until the perfect

You took a day off and left Vought Tower, following Noir to the Herogasm, just after pretending like you had suddenly become ill and needed some rest. You felt incredibly bold injecting yourself with Temp-V for the first time in your life because you knew you had one shot and he couldn't hurt you anymore. Oh, fuck. It was definitely something else.

Before you knocked on the door and saw twins, you had to endure waiting outside for five minutes. 

You stumbled and felt a little nervous, saying, “I'm here to... enjoy Herogasm,” and hoped there wasn't a password to get inside.

The woman remarked, “I haven't seen you before,” examining your short outfit and raising an eyebrow in a suspicious manner. 

“Why? I'm here to get raw-fucked. I suck dicks so nice; get them clean, yummy, like a bitch in heat,” you said with an uneasy laugh as you looked them in the eye. “I'm the number one member of Herogasm.”

The man remarked, “I don't forget a raw fucked bitch whenever I watch one,” but his twin immediately gave him an arm punch. 

“Can you stop being a disgusting animal for once?” She asked him angrily.

You practically begged, “Come on, will you take me in? I'm about to die horny right here.”

Finally letting you in, the man muttered, “Fine,” and stepped aside. 

Of course, you weren't expecting something as awful as that. There was undoubtedly no God there because the way things looked was completely weird, featuring supes with hideous dics, naked supe women moaning loudly, and more.

You had to ignore certain supes who were trying to touch you while searching for Black Noir so as not to draw notice from them. Today, you only wanted to fuck one of them.

When you realized he was missing, you quickly started going through each room one by one because you were afraid he would kill the supe, complete his mission, and flee from Herogasm. You soon came into contact with his menacing black suit after opening a door. Noir was choking the supe beneath him with both hands. With no effort, he could have easily killed the Supe, but instead he relished pushing him insane, making him look more pathetic and causing unnecessary agony before his death. God alone knew who had worse mental health issues.

With your hand on the door handle and Noir's head immediately turning to the side, you uttered, “Oh god,” in disbelief. As he choked the man and continued staring at you, your heart raced with both excitement and dread. You offered him an inviting stare and could smell his excited scent.

Temp-V gave you a greater understanding of his facial expressions and smell, which increased your sense of confidence. You kept staring at the insane, mask-wearing sick as he slowly murdered the supe beneath him, and he was undoubtedly hard as an iron beneath his suit.

You both waited for a while, breathing heavily, until Noir acknowledged the man was dead. Then he moved in your direction, and you knew right then that if you allowed him to touch you, he would fuck you. But after giving Noir an encouraging glance and indicating that he would follow you wherever, you exited the room since you didn't want to get fucked raw in a room with a dead body. 

You looked for a room first; you didn't care if he fucked you in front of all those people or in a private room at that precise moment. You would let him use you wherever and however he pleased if you were unable to find one. 

Noir was just behind you when you two entered the room, and you gently shoved him toward the bed without allowing him to take control. Behind his suit, he showed toughness and confidence, but you wanted to be in charge for a brief period of time to drive him insane.

Saying, “Fucking finally,” you forced him to sit while straddling his thigh.

Noir noticed you weren't even wearing underwear, so he quickly lifted your dress up and gasped deeply.

“Why is it so fucking hard to find and fuck you, sir?” As you removed the stupid plastic object from between his legs and placed your hands behind his head, attempting to meet his eyes through the mask's mirror, you murmered. With your lips parted in ecstasy, you began to rub your pussy against his dressed dick. 

“I fucking injected myself some Temp-V just to make you fuck me properly.” You smiled as pleasure caused your pussy to get damp. “I've imagined this moment, getting railed by you for so long; it feels ethereal to be here right now, on top of you.”

He took a deep breath, and at last his gloved hands reached your hips, stopping you. He slammed your back into the bed while groaning in protest, and he instantly jumped on top of you. 

As you widened your legs and he unzipped his pants to reveal his huge, veiny cock, you teased, “So you're in a hurry, right?” He kept staring at your swollen pussy while giving himself brief pumpings to his massive cock, and you licked your lips. 

Rather than entering inside of you, he ascended above you and repeatedly struck your lips and cheeks with his giant cock. You refused to part your lips and let his cock get in just to torture and make him go crazy. Noir lost all patience and became enraged as his cock throbbed with pain. He violently split your lips with his cock and shoved all the way down your throat in one thrust.

You moaned more when he moved on you and began to rapidly fuck your throat. Because of the way his big balls made obscene noises on your chin and dominated your mouth, you were turned on even more. You put one hand against his leg and started to touch your clit with the other. 

Noir started panting ferociously and slamming his balls into your chin and throat harder. He dreamed of this very moment, of you making you go lower in front of him, between his knees this morning, and fucking your face in the office. He had smelled your cunt's arousal, so he knew you clearly longed for a hard, deep fuck.

Noir was aware that you would have permitted him to do whatever he pleased, regardless of whether you were being watched by others, in a busy office, or in a more private setting. You were always ready to get fucked by him. 

You could feel him approaching closer and about to spill on your throat while you stroked your clit more vigorously. In an attempt to satisfy him and get him to fill your mouth with his spent, you began to use your tongue as much as you could. 

You wanted to use your hands to help Noir cum in your mouth, but he pushed your hands away. 

You pleaded with him, “Come on,” opening your mouth as you watched him panting fiercely and stroking his massive cock with gloved hands against your face. “Fill my mouth with your cum.” 

Noir, however, disregarded your pleadings because he didn't want to cum in your mouth at that precise moment. It's unfortunate that he wasn't able to tell you that you were a wonderful cumslut whom he could fuck and spill himself. He knew he ought to have slipped into you sooner. But from now on, he was going to see to it that you spent his spent however he pleased. He would make you his cocksucker. 

He began to come on your face with his thick, white ropes and let out a deep moan as you orgasmed beneath your own hands. Noir took several minutes to completely spill himself into your face, causing your legs to quiver with delight. His spent paint was all on your face. Still, he was as hard as a rock, which must be a special supe thing. 

Noir chuckled when he saw your face covered in his sperm and he split your shaking legs, giving you a single, rough thrust that left you speechless. 

You groaned beneath him as he began to penetrate you quickly and deeply, asking, “You love that, right? Do you enjoy looking at my cum-covered face while you fuck me? Wanna spill yourself inside my pussy? Would you just watch me wander around, full of your cum?”

His movements sped as you continued to talk dirty, and he gave you a quick nod. Afterwards, he slightly moved over you and placed his hands on your face, palming his own spent. Noir, who was panting like a beast, took some of his sperm and put it in your mouth so you could taste him. 

“You look like a shy one, but in fact, you're a beast, huh?” You let out a loud groan as you sucked his gloved fingers and swallowed his cum. “I don't even know your face or voice, and that fucking turns me on so much.”

Noir began to fuck you harder and wrapped his hand around your neck, strangling you as you clutched around his thick cock. He was so pleased with the way you had spoken to him. Your legs were shaking with pleasure as he continued to fuck you senselessly, like a beast, and his firm hands around your neck were making it harder for you to scream. 

“You sick fuck, it feels sensitive; be careful. Slow down a little bit,” you cried out as he thrust you in the way of another orgasm, repeatedly hitting your G-spot as your body trembled wildly from one orgasm to the next. “Fuck. Come inside me already.”

But Noir wasn't happy with the way you spoke to him, so he quickly took his dick out and turned you, pressing your face against the sheets. This time, you moaned loudly as he smashed the back of your neck against the sheets and began thrusting quickly and deeply inside of you. He appeared to be difficult to get to cum. It was obvious he was a fine fuck. Always fear the shy ones.

You were turned on even further as he squeezed his fingers around your hips so hard that you heard him gasp softly beneath his mask. You tried to pull away from his harsh grip on your neck by holding onto his wrist, but he wasn't impressed. Eventually, he let you go, and you let out a loud cry till your throat hurt. 

His strong thrusts and the several orgasms he gave you made your pussy feel extremely sensitive, so you tightened around his big cock as much as you could. Not that you were whining, but whenever the effects of Temp-V subsided, you knew it would hurt like hell. 

Following a few brief but forceful thrusts, he tightened his hold around your hips and began to release his thick white ropes inside your pussy while releasing a loud groan. You would have believed it would take several minutes because he was taking so long to empty himself while he came inside of you. 

When he softened and you were both gasping for air and attempting to regain your breath, Noir drew away from you. 

Once you turned to face him at last, you saw that he was looking at your pussy and his spent, leaking to your legs. You place his cum back inside your pussy and spread your legs out in front of him on the bed. You knew he liked it very much. 

As you played with your clit and watched him tucking himself inside his suit with heavy breaths, you talked playfully, “I knew you would be a beast. It was a fine conversation.” 

He chuckled at your word choice and helped you stand up and tenderly adjust your clothing. 

You asked, “Can we leave now?” and he nodded quickly. 

Without a doubt, you will take another Temp-V soon. 

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Sorry, I was high writing this. You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

Taglist: @anundyingfidelity @believeinthefireflies95

[roseychains]

love the red flags for jjk guys...what about the green ones?

Green flags with jjk guys

A/n: thanks for the request! It was fun to write :3

C/w: fluff all sfw fluff

Gojo: princess

Gojo treats you with what can only be described as princess treatment. He does anything and everything for you, ask for the moon and he would get it for you. Shoes untied? He will get down on one knee and tie it. Your feet hurt from walking? Bridal carry all the way home. His wallet is yours, and he worships the ground you walk on. Your his most prized possession, your his queen.

Geto: sweet

He never runs out of complements and praises to adorn you with. He is soft spoken and kind, a real sweet talker. Even if at times cheesy, he never fails to make you feel like the most gorgeous, strong, intelligent person ever. It doesn’t matter where you are, what time it is, who’s around you, even when he’s in a sour mood. He can’t help but remind you of how pretty you are, how much he loves you, coupled with gentle kisses, or a soft hand rubbing your back.

Nanami: service

His love language is acts of service. He just likes, doing things for you. Massage your shoulders, hold your bags, he’d even learn how to do things for you like your hair, or painting your nails. He doesn’t care how Feminine it comes of as, he wants to do it for you. Not to mention, once he realizes something that you like, he gets skilled at it. Hell, even embarrassing things like waxing. If you wanted him to, he would learn how to for you.

Toji: protective

If anyone can make you feel safe and protected at all times, it’s your scary dog of a boyfriend. He’s huge, and not afraid to hold you in public. He does anything and everything to ensure your comfort and safety. He walks you to and from anywhere, he will drive, and keep you on dial whenever you are out. If you ever need a ride, he’s speeding to get his girl out of wherever she doesn’t want to me. And when your sick, he’s suddenly become a trad wife and is nursing you back to health.

Choso: available

There’s no one who understands how you are feeling better than choso, sometimes even more than yourself you think. Somehow, he’s able to understand everything with great empathy that you where unaware a man ever could. He’s always willing to comfort you about it and make you feel better, he knows exactly what to say. Not once has he ever or will he ever make you feel crazy, that your overreacting, that it’s not a big deal. He approaches everything with great kindness and empathy.

Sukuna: strong

He’s just… so big. He’s quite the work of art and it always ends up being in your favor. He can and will carry you to the ends of the world. Your feet will never ache again. He won’t just carry you, he will carry your bags, groceries, even help you move furniture (by himself). He’s also quite the intimidating figure in public. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way he has one of his large hands wrapping around your back is enough to scare of anyone from his girl. Not to mention, it’s quite fun to sit on his back while he does push ups.

Yuji: proud

Yuji is so lucky to have you. He feels lucky, and he’s boastful of what a wonderful partner he landed. He genuinely feels so small around you, because he thinks your just so much better than him. He cannot begin to comprehend how he ever ended up with a goddess like you, and he will make that clear. He flexed you and shows you around like your a treasure. He wants the world to know your not just anyone’s girlfriend, your HIS girlfriend. HIS!! He’s so giddy all the time about you.

Megumi: caring

He is such a gentle lover, soft, kind, caring, aware. He knows you both physically and emotionally. So no matter what is bothering you, a pain in your shoulders or a down mood, he will figure it out and fix you right up. He takes his time helping you unwind, and is incredibly patient. Treats you like glass, with soft words and touches that leave you like putty in his arms by the end of it. He will stay by your side even after you feel better, to make sure you stay feeling good.

Inumaki: fun

You haven’t had this much fun in a relationship since childhood. He makes you feel young again. There is never a dull day with Inumaki, in fact he always makes sure your are happy and entertained. There’s nothing that makes him happier than seeing you smile, so, he make it his commitment to make you smile as much as possible. So whatever that may be, taking you out to dinner, roughhousing while playing a game, your laugh is the light of his day.

Yuta: priority

He will always put you first. He thinks about you with every decision he makes, and plans ahead accordingly. You will never ever have to worry about being a second choice, your always his first. He would feel devastated if you ever had to question how much you meant to him, so to prevent that from happening he takes you into consideration with everything. It doesn’t matter how small or trivial it may seem. If it could involve his girl, he will make sure that she feels prioritized, no matter what.

[cutielando]

the curse of monaco | c.l.

synopsis: in which Charles finally conquers Monaco

my masterlist

There was nothing like racing through the streets you grew up in, Charles would always say to you.

In all the years you had known him and been with him, he had only had one goal: winning the Monaco Grand Prix. 

You didn’t know why that was, whether it was a tribute to his late father, a tribute to Jules or just the pride of knowing he conquered the streets he had walked his entire life. Maybe it was a combination of all 3.

Charles had not been treated well by his home race the past couple of years. 2 DNFs, 1 DNS and 2 disappointing results had plagued his mind, making the weeks leading up to the race filled with more stress than he should carry.

But you had a good feeling this time. Ever since he got into the car in FP1, then topping the charts all throughout FP2 and FP3, you felt something in your gut change. For once, after so many doubtful years, there was no worry and disappointment in your heart as you waited in the garage for the qualifying session of the weekend. Every negative feeling was replaced with hope, so much hope that you didn’t know what to do with it.

Charles was the complete opposite. While he couldn’t deny that the car had finally come alive and he had the pace he needed, he felt like he couldn’t let himself hope too much, not after everything he’d been through.

“Come on, you know I’m right. You’ll be on pole and you’ll win the race” you said to him as you lounged in his driver room, watching him get dressed in his fireproofs and racing suit.

“Mon amour, you know how Monaco is. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then be disappointed if I don’t get pole or don’t win” he reasoned, but deep down he was feeling the exact same thing you were.

“But this year is going to be different, I know it will!” you pressed on, making him chuckle in adoration at the hear of your determined voice. “Every other driver has said the same thing and every presenter from F1 TV is saying you’re definitely going to break the curse tomorrow” 

“Have you been watching F1 TV again to hear what they have to say about me?” he teased, laughing once he sees the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“That’s not the point. I’m telling you, I have a good feeling about tomorrow. But still, no pressure. You go out there, drive safe and come back to me in one piece. If you end up winning, that’s great, but if you don’t, we’ll get them next year. Sounds good?” you bargained, knowing that he didn’t need any more pressure added on his shoulders than he already had.

He sighed but nodded, pausing his actions to give you a kiss.

“Let’s do it then”

And, true to his word, he came back to you, in one piece, starting from pole in the Monaco GP.

♡♡♡♡♡

There was something special in the air as you entered the paddock with Pascale and Arthur, making your way towards the Ferrari hospitality to watch the race. The entire city of Monte Carlo was absolutely buzzing with excitement, the paddock feeling more alive than ever as their home hero prepared to take on the beautiful circuit that was Monaco.

You didn’t see Charles before he got into the car, you didn’t want to cause him any kind of distraction before he started the race, but you couldn’t help sprinting down to the garage during the Red Flag, knowing you had plenty of time before the race would start up again.

Finding him wasn’t hard at all. He was speaking with his mechanics, drinking some water out of his bottle.

You approached him hurriedly, at which he excused himself from the conversation once he saw you approaching him.

“Mon amour, is everything okay? You’re supposed to be with maman, Arthur and Joris up in the hospitality” he said, worry etched on his face.

“Everything is fine, don’t worry. I just came down here to wish you good luck, you know, once FIA decides to restart the race” you joked, hoping to make his spirits lift up a little.

He chuckled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You could see the stress sitting behind the facade, the worry and pressure tensing up his muscles and demeanor.

Noticing you studying his face and realizing you knew how stressed he was, he smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“You know we’re proud of you no matter what, right?” you whispered, thankful for the loud sounds of mechanics working left and right that helped drown out your conversation to other people around you.

He sighed, but nodded. “I know, but I just can’t shake the stress. I’ve been quick all weekend and everyone knows that. What if something happens and my race goes to shit like every time? I don’t think I’ll be ready to cope with another disappointment from my home track” he confessed, which made your heart squeeze.

His entire life, the only thing that he wanted was to win in Monaco, but the track has always failed him. And for once, he felt like he could finally break the curse that has been following him around for years, yet he still worried that something would completely ruin his race.

“Baby, nobody will think less of you if you don’t win today. Racing is so unpredictable, you put your life in danger every time you get in the car and people know that. We’ll be proud of you no matter the outcome today” you said, holding his face in your hands to make sure he understood you.

He bit the inside of his cheek but nodded, knowing you were right. 

“I love you” he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

“I love you too. Be safe out there and show everyone what you’re made of” you said once you pulled away, smiling and pecking his lips once again before leaving him to it.

You made your way back to the hospitality where Charles’ family was waiting for you.

“How is he?” Pascale asked you as you sat down next to her.

“He’s stressed, but he’s doing okay. He really wants to win today” you explained, running a hand through your hair.

Pascale nodded, knowing how important this day was for her son.

“He’ll win, I can feel it” Pascale said, taking your hand in hers.

♡♡♡♡♡

Some people would say that you bewitched your fiancé, some would say that a divine force had finally taken pity upon him, but only one thing was for certain.

Charles Leclerc had finally won his home race, the Monaco Grand Prix.

From the moment he had crossed the finish line and taken the checkered flag, everything that happened was a blur. Between hugging his family, texting your friends, crying because of how proud you were of him, things were a big blur. 

Hearing him screaming on the radio had been what had made you break down. He had spent so many hours training, figuring out strategies, doing everything in his power to make sure that things would go well for him around his home streets and his hard work had finally paid off.

You couldn’t hold in the excitement that you felt, the pride you held for the man you loved more than life itself. Which frankly explains why you hurried out of the Ferrari hospitality and ran to the grid where the Ferrari mechanics were waiting for Charles.

The moment you saw him get out of the car and throw himself at his team, the cascade of tears began once again, blurring your vision which now only consisted of the red teamwear all around you.

“Y/N!” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Charles’ voice, who had noticed you crying as soon as he hugged his team.

The Ferrari mechanics quickly made way for you, letting you jump into Charles’ arms and wrapping your legs around his waist as he hugged you tightly to his body.

“I did it, Y/N. I finally did it” he cried into your shoulder, which made you let out more tears and squeeze him even tighter than you already were.

“I told you, I knew you were going to do it. My Monaco winner” you pulled away slightly to kiss him, taking his face in your hands.

The entire team cheered around you, paparazzi taking pictures upon pictures of the moment shared between you.

“I love you so fucking much” you whispered against his lips, making him grin widely.

“I love you too”

And with that, the Monaco curse has finally been broken, once and for all.

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[slut4thebroken]

Safe

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Your boyfriend just wants to keep you safe… by any means necessary.

Warnings | Smut, dubcon, attempted? SA (not by Jon), manipulation, walking red flag lol, house wife kink?, praise, painful sex, sub space, crying, dacryphilia, breeding.

Words | 2.3 k

Notes | Finally finished the fic from this lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You were kept properly fed and fucked, what more did you need? 

The first time you asked to leave after partially moving in, he was almost offended. He gave you a short “fine, if you want to put yourself in danger, go ahead” and walked away. You didn’t leave, except to occasionally stop by your own apartment. Usually he'd do that for you though. 

The second time, you didn’t ask, you just brought it up. You wondered what he meant by that. “The world— but especially Gotham— is full of people who want to take advantage of you and hurt you. They see your kind heart as a vulnerability they can exploit. Do you understand?” 

“But.. that’s never happened before?” You said meekly. Despite living in one of the most crime ridden cities in America, nothing bad has happened to you yet— you’ve lived a perfectly average life. 

“You were lucky. But that luck will run out. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He said, gently brushing your hair behind your ear. “I care about you too much to do that to you, that’s why I’m not forcing you outside.” The way he twisted his words around to make it seem like he wasn’t forcing you to stay inside was completely lost on you. 

“Oh. Thank you, Jon.”

“You’re welcome, angel. I know it’s scary. Would you like me to help you get rid of that fear?” He cooed, making you blush at the implication behind his words. 

He wanted to be gentle with you… but thinking about how scared you’d look in a situation like that made it hard to control himself. He tried not to get too impatient while he ate you out since he knew you needed the preparation… Once your words were becoming a little incoherent as you begged and pleaded senselessly, he decided you were ready enough. You still struggled to take him, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. You didn’t dare say anything though because of how desperate you were to please him, not wanting to ask him to wait even longer for what he needed. 

“Do you know what those men want to do to a sweet thing like you?” He said, his thrusts slowing into a rocking motion. “They want to take every last ounce of innocence and kindness you may have. And do you know how they’ll do that, my love?” You shook your head, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of his cock inside you. “They’ll fuck every single one of your holes until they either get bored or interrupted. But they won’t be gentle with you, like I am.” The thought of them being less gentle than Jon was almost unfathomable. You whimpered and bit your lip, not wanting to think about something like that. “No..” He chuckled quietly. “Animals like that don’t care about you. You’re just a set of holes to them.” 

“Jon..” You whined, brows furrowing. 

“I’m just trying to help you understand, angel. I’m keeping you safe, why do you always have to question me?” He frowned, making you falter. “I thought you wanted to be with someone who cares about you and your well-being. If you don’t, then maybe we’re not meant for each other,”

“No! No, I- I do want that— want you. I’m sorry for questioning you, Jon. I won’t do it anymore, I promise.” You begged staring up at him through your lashes as your eyes started to fill with tears at the thought of him leaving you. 

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I promise I won’t be mad.” 

“No, I want to be with you. Please.” He wasn’t quiet for long, but it was long enough to make you start rambling out pleas. “I’m sorry for questioning you, I know you’re just trying to keep me safe. Please don’t leave me, Jon.” You whimpered, making him shush you gently. 

“It’s okay, little one. I’ll stay and keep you safe, don’t worry.” 

To really drive the point home, he staged something. He asked you to go to the store for a few things since it would close before he could get off work. You were on your way back, almost to the apartment building, when someone grabbed you, dragging you back into an alley. The bag fell to the ground and he roughly shoved you against the wall, covering your mouth when you started to scream. He pushed you into the wall with his body, his bulge digging into your hip, and as he started ripping off your clothes, all you could do was cry. You didn’t know how else to react. 

Your shirt was discarded to the floor and when he started forcing your bra off, you tried to put up a little bit of a fight, but he just grabbed your neck and slammed your head into the wall. You whimpered at the pain, hands going limp and dropping to your sides. He finally removed the garment and you barely registered the cold air on your nipples. 

“Yeah, look at how fuckin hard they are— You like this shit, don’t you?” He asked smugly, making you shake your head, but you immediately stopped when your vision started spinning. “I bet this pussy’s wet too.” He pushed your skirt up, then roughly cupped your sex over your underwear, making your cries turn into violent sobs. 

“Hey!” His body was suddenly gone, making you collapse to the floor. “Angel?” Your head snapped up once you registered his voice. 

“Jon?” You whimpered, trying to suppress the sobbing. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He put your shirt back on, then grabbed your bra and the bag before helping you up. Once you were inside his apartment, the crying came back full force. He hugged you and cradled your head, holding you against his shoulder. 

“You’re okay— you’re safe now.” He whispered, holding you tighter. “I’m so sorry, little one. I should’ve never asked you to do that.” He brought you over to the bed and had you lay down. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice thick with something you couldn’t quite discern. 

“My head.” You whimpered, the pain intensifying now that you were thinking about it. He got up to get you some painkillers and water, then laid down next to you and wrapped you up in his embrace. 

“You might have a concussion, so you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” You whimpered and shook your head, feeling so incredibly exhausted. “I know you’re tired, but I need you to stay awake. Can you please do that for me?” You wanted to please him so badly that, despite the fact that you were struggling to keep your eyes open, you agreed. All you could think about was what just happened— over and over again. You let out a choked sob and turned your face into his chest to muffle your cries. 

“I was so scared, Jon.” You whimpered, fisting his shirt to ground yourself. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Let me help you forget.” One of his hands started snaking down your back until he reached your hip. He grabbed you hard enough to make you whimper and moved you to lay partially on top of him. “We need keep you awake too.” He said softly. When you felt his bulge against your stomach, your body started trembling even more intensely. 

“I know this may seem hard, but you know I only want what’s best for you. I would never do anything to hurt you, angel.” You nodded with a sniffle and he gave you a pleased smile, then pulled you into a kiss. His hands roamed your body, making you wince when he dragged his fingers over the scratches on your back just a little too hard. 

He quickly removed your clothes and once you were completely undressed, he rolled both of you over and settled between your legs. With gentle hands, he pushed your hair out of your face and wiped the drying tears from your cheeks. You’ve never looked prettier than right now, your eyes glossy and wide from fear, and your lips trembling, staying slightly parted as you took in ragged breaths. 

“My sweet girl.” He cooed. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again. If that means letting you move in with me fully, then I’m more than willing to make that sacrifice for you.” Your bottom lip quivered as you stared up at him with teary eyes, but your expression showed that you still weren’t completely convinced yet. “It’s up to you, darling. Whatever you need, I’ll do it for you.”

“Thank you, Jonny.” You whimpered and he clenched his jaw when you used the name you only use in a certain headspace with him. He always took advantage of these moments. The ones where you were pliant and needy and too dumb to know what you wanted.  

“Of course… I love you so much, little one.” Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, embarrassed. He knows how those words affect you which is pretty much the only reason he says them. He cares for you obviously— he’d kill anyone who’d lay a finger on you… except the people he hires for that— but he doesn’t love anyone. Not even you.

“I love you, Jonny.” You whined. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked on opening his pants and removing his cock, making you let out a startled moan when the tip brushed your folds. It took a little more force than usual because he’s been hard since he saw you in the alley and he couldn’t give two shits about foreplay right now. When he finally breached your opening, you let out a pained whine that was overshadowed by his groan. 

“Every time feels like the first time I fucked you.” He said through a breath, leaning his head into the crook of your neck as he panted quietly. “So fucking tight and hot and wet… best little cunt I’ve ever felt.” He moaned quietly. 

“Jon…” You whined and he could practically feel the blush on your neck. 

“I’m sorry, angel, I can’t help it. You feel so incredible, you deserve to know how good you make me feel.” He didn’t let you try to respond before slowly dragging his hips back until only the tip was inside, then forcing his cock back in just as slowly. He got lost in the feeling of slowly rutting into you, your whimpers music to his ears as you just laid there and took it. 

“If you decide you want to stay with me, you won’t even have to go outside— I’ll take care of everything for you.” He cupped your cheek as his eyes bored into yours. “All you’ll have to do is clean up around the house, have a warm meal ready when I get home, and take my cock whenever I need. You won’t have to worry about anything else.” He promised. 

You nodded, staring up at him as your bottom lip trembled. He could tell you were still in pain, but you were already fucked dumb enough that you either didn’t feel it or didn’t care. 

“What else did he do to you? Did he touch you?” He rasped, trying not to sound too eager as he snaked a hand down to rub your clit. Your shaking intensified and you let out a quiet whimper as you nodded again. “Where?” You whined and looked away from him. He could tell you wanted to stay quiet, but his tone showed that he was expecting a response. 

“There a-and… my chest.” 

“I’m so sorry, angel… Were you scared?” He was getting close now. 

“Yes.. I thought— I…” You cut off with a strangled sob and he used his free hand to cup your cheek again. Your crying picked back up and tears were streaming down your face, making his cock throb almost painfully.  

“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s over now.” Despite his words, you continued crying. Because it wasn’t over. He knew you weren’t in the mood, but he also knew that you were too stupid to realize that right now. You were too stupid to realize he was just finishing what that man started. 

His hand moved down to roughly grope your tits as his fingers picked up on your clit. You were practically frozen beneath him. You weren’t grabbing his hair or clinging to his shoulders like you normally would. You were just laying there limply, taking his cock like a good little girl should.  

“I’m so close, angel. Just a little longer.” He said through a breath. You were whimpering and moaning quietly because of how rough he was being, and he couldn’t help but smile at how pretty you looked. Your lashes were damp with tears as you continued crying, your brows scrunched together from all of the physical and emotional pain you were enduring… 

With one final thrust, he fully buried his cock inside you and let out a low groan as his head fell downward, resting in the crook of your neck. He removed his hand from your clit and wrapped his arm under your shoulders and head, hugging you tightly, making your whimpers and cries get a little louder. He reveled in the way your body was trembling and the way your cunt was practically suffocating his cock because of how tense you were. Grunting quietly, he rode out the rest of his orgasm, only loosening his grip on your body once his cock stopped twitching. 

“Good girl.” He whispered, placing a tender kiss on your neck. He waited until his heavy breathing returned to a normal level, then pulled back to look at you. “I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you ever again.” He said softly. “I’m going to keep you safe, little one. I promise.” Safe from everyone but himself. 

I edited the taglist post so pls take a look ty <3

(For the record, this ⬇️ is why I’m changing the taglist system lmao. It’s just too much😭 This is going to be the last fic (except ongoing fics) that’ll have a taglist fyi)

Taglist

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @theoraekenslover @kaorisakamotofan @scorpiussage @naevisct @jimmywoosimp @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @monsterfromthewoods @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @nyxxie.pooh @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @milkytomura @bigbossbabysworld @sheisthedxrkness @ll4n4 @olivialveshbc @feyresqueen @charlottegemyngende @ffionspreach @drcranessweetestdoe @goblinjnr @1nterstellarcha0s @mothhball @anonwrtr @venustusjuliet8 @cillianslvt @bluujaiwrites @jayroytodd @harleyql @lokabrenna0801 @hanawrites404 @soo-woop @sewmxx @havkjhdecs @trumanbluee @twasbrillig71 @punkiebuttons

[winterarmyy]

You know what I have been itching to write these days? A people pleaser reader with emotional withdrawal. Like…

All this time Bucky’s been so sweet and doting and she absolutely loves it. I mean it’s new, she’s not used to the princess treatment at all but Bucky makes it feel as if it is only natural for her to feel the butterflies in her chest every second he is near. In past relationships, she was always the one putting in all the effort, bending over backward to meet her partner's needs and keeping the peace. She was the one making sacrifices for the walking red flag she fell in love with. It became second nature to her; she was the caretaker, the fixer, the one who made sure everything was okay, even if it meant neglecting her own feelings.

But with Bucky, it's different. He is the embodiment of a green forest itself. 

Imagine that one day when Bucky came home after a rough mission, he was clearly not okay. She noticed immediately how his eyes, usually bright and full of warmth when he greeted her, were different this time. The usual sparkle, the affectionate heart eyes were replaced by something darker, more distant. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his brows were furrowed in a way that told her something was wrong. When he walked through the door, there was no familiar rush to scoop her up in his arms, no playful toss onto the bed, and no smothering her with kisses. 

Instead, Bucky barely acknowledged her, walking right past her. He made a beeline to their bedroom, before she could say anything or follow him. She heard the bathroom door slam shut, the sound sharp enough to make her flinch. She tried to stay calm, telling herself it might have been just a loose screw, but deep down, she knew better. Bucky wasn’t feeling his best.

While he was in the shower, she decided to do something to help ease whatever burden was weighing on him. She brewed a pot of warm tea, the kind he always said helped calm his nerves, and prepared a plate of his favourite sweet snacks. She carefully placed them on the kitchen counter, hoping they’d bring him some comfort. But when she went back to their room, her heart sank a little further. Bucky was dressing, his expression still harsh and rigid, the gentleness was nowhere to be seen.

She couldn’t bear the silence between them, the coldness that seemed to have seeped into their usually warm and loving space. So she tried to break it, her voice soft and tentative as she asked, “Are you okay?” Bucky didn’t reply, his back still turned to her as he tugged on his shirt. The tension in the room was cutting, but she tried again, her tone gentle, almost coaxing, “You can tell me anything, you know that, right? I’m here for you.”

But Bucky was resolved to stay in his grumpy shell. When he finally spoke, his voice was deeper, rougher, and laced with an edge that sent a shiver down her spine. “Y/N, please just stop, okay? I don’t need you hovering over me like I'm a damn child. Just leave me alone.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. He didn’t shout, not like her exes used to, but the harshness in his tone was enough to scare her. A familiar fear crept up, the kind that made her feel like she might lose him at any moment, just like she had lost others before. Her mind spiraled into self-deprecation, the old voices in her head whispering that she was being annoying, that she needed to know her place, that he was right to push her away. She had overstepped, hadn’t she? She should have known better.

“Okay,” she whispered, the word barely audible as it left her lips. Her eyes, once filled with concern and care, shifted to something else; something colder, almost devoid of any emotion. Bucky noticed the change, but his chaotic mind, swirling with anger and frustration, couldn’t process it fully. So, all he did was watch as she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him alone.

Just as he had asked her to.

Imagine how she shuts herself down from that moment on, as if she went into auto-pilot. She still goes to work, sleep and eat properly, all her daily routine was the same but she completely left Bucky alone. She does not necessarily avoid him, but she didn’t reach for him either. She’d let him touch her, kiss her, but she would never touch him herself, she didn’t seek for him, she didn’t make eye contact unless necessary, and even if he’s close by she’d act as if he is not there and continue doing what she was doing.

It took Bucky a few days to return to his senses. And this dumbass boy thought that she was okay; all because she didn’t avoid him, or glared at him, or yell at him when he apologized. It took him a week after to notice she actually never covered from that night. It was in the little things; the way she no longer met his gaze with the same warmth, how she seemed distant even when she was sitting right beside him, how her smiles never quite reached her eyes anymore. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks: she had never been okay.

Panic began to well up inside him, gnawing at his insides. He had to fix this, had to make things right. So, he gently sat her down, taking her hands in his. “What’s wrong, doll?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly, fear lacing his words. But when she looked at him, her eyes were dull, empty; so different from the vibrant, loving gaze he was used to.

“Nothing’s wrong, what do you mean?” she replied, her tone flat and devoid of emotion. It was those words, so calm yet so cold, almost robotic. Like she was programmed to reply him as such. And that, shattered whatever composure Bucky had left.

Imagine how hurtful it was to see her like this, he’d grovel like he had never before. But deep down, knowing no amount of ‘sorry’ and sweet words will fix this. So from that day onwards, he’d show how much he loved her through his actions.

He became more attentive than usual to her every need, trying to anticipate what would make her life a little easier, a little brighter. He’d wake up early to make her favourite breakfast, he’d kiss her good morning and good night, but never initiates anything more.

He’d whisper “I love you.” every chance he got. He’d quietly  take on more of the household chores. He’d brush his fingers through her hair as they watched TV together, offering the comfort without expecting anything in return. He was gentle, never pushing her to talk or to be anything other than what she was in that moment.

He’d leave little gestures of love for her to find later; a favourite snack left on her desk, or a small bouquet of flowers on her pillow. He’d  play the songs they used to dance to in the living room, silently inviting her to join him if she felt like it.

But more than anything, Bucky showed his love through patience. He didn’t rush her, didn’t demand that she snap back to who she was before.

And by time, he'd noticed the slight changes. He’d notice how, when he reached out to touch her, she didn’t just tolerate it anymore; she started to lean into his touch, just a little. Her eyes, too, started to change. Where they had once been dull and empty, he began to see the slightest flicker of emotion return.

Sometimes, when he surprised her with a small act of kindness; a cup of tea waiting for her, a blanket draped over her shoulders; her eyes would soften. Bucky also noticed how she began to respond to his presence. When he sat beside her, she would subtly shift closer. She’d linger just a little longer in his embrace when they hugged, and sometimes, she’d even reach out first, tentatively placing a hand on his arm or leaning her head against his shoulder.

These small gestures were like lifelines to Bucky. That she will come back to him, if not now then later. So in the end, he let her heal at her own pace, silently vowing to be there for her, even if it took forever for her to trust him again. 

And yeah, that’s the urge... to write or to read so...

no pressure tags: @sweetiebarnes , @bucksangel , @littlemiss-yeehaw , @flowersforbucky , @dearest-bucky, @sergeantbarnessdoll , @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky , @buckets-and-trees , @buckys-wintersoldier , @bucks-babe , @ellemj , @buckyalpine , @lovelybarnes , @navybrat817 , @targaryenvampireslayer , @jobean12-blog , @all1e23 , @jessybarnes , @buckgasms , @nickfowlerrr , @espinosaurusrexex , @delaber , @buckylattes

[rose-pearls]

Could I request something for Clarisse? Where she get's with reader and her father ends up telling her she's weak in her dream. The next day she trains until she passes out and reader finds her and nurses her back to health. Then just some good ol hurt and comfort! Thanks!!

Hi! Thank you for your request, here it is!! I hope you like it! Ares is an asshole here but I am thinking of making a story where he is a good father! My requests are open! If you would like to join a taglist just send me a message!

Main Masterlist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Masterlist: @niktwazny303 (open)

Clarisse La Rue Masterlist: @abbersreads, @peanutbelley (open)

It had been a hard week; the red team had lost at capture the flag and everything seemed to be getting on her nerves. The only good thing had been you, trying to sooth her and calm her down when it all became too much. She should’ve known that sooner or later a nightmare would come back.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any, every demigod has nightmares, but she hadn’t had one about her father ever since she had gotten with you. It was as if you had managed to heal that part of her with showing her how much you loved her. That night you had to help one of your younger half-siblings so you couldn’t come and sleep at the Ares cabin, but she had told you that it was fine, that she would survive a night without you. How wrong she was.

The forest had been quiet in her dream, no one there, but just as she was walking further ahead, she heard a twig snap. She turned around, expecting to find a monster of some sort but she only came face to face with her father. Deep down she could admit to herself that seeing him was even worse than any kind of monster she could have seen.

“Father?”, she whispers, as if she wanted to make sure that it was him. The sneer on his face makes her realize that it is him and she can’t help but make herself small under his harsh stare.

“What are you doing with that girl?”, the words are unkind, as they have always been, she doesn’t remember a conversation were his voice was soft.

“What do you mean?”, she can’t help but ask, wondering what he means.

“Don’t play stupid with me little girl,” the tone makes it clear that the conversation won’t be a pleasant one.

“Sorry, sir,” she says and Ares nods slowly before coming closer to her, making her curl herself more.

“The Demeter girl, that you have been spending all your time with,” he says after a moment, a clear disgust in his voice when he speaks about you and for a moment, she thinks of defending you, but she knows that the consequences would be harsh.

“We are just spending time together father,” she says, trying not to reveal too much of your relationship, she doesn’t want him to be able to take it away from her.

“You should put an end to it, it just weakens you,” she has to swallow down the urge to tell him you are so much more than just ‘it’, but she manages.

“It won’t, I promise you,” she says but Ares lets out a cold laugh at her words.

“Really? Then how come you lost at Capture the Flag and your idiot of a brother managed to beat you at single combat?”, Ares says, coming closer to her with a dark look in his eyes. She knows she hadn’t been as focused as before but she didn’t think her father was watching her so much. She didn’t know if she should be happy that he had been watching her and giving her attention or feeling sick at the fact that he was watching her every move to catch her making a mistake.

“Don’t make me regret announcing that you are my favorite. I don’t want a weak daughter to represent me. Is that clear?”, the words are harsh, just like they had always been, and she can only nod in response.

“Yes father,” she says, and he nods at her answer.

“Good, better prove that to me,” he tells her before he disappears from her dream, and she wakes up in cold sweat. 

Her shirt is clinging to her back from the sweat that had formed during the nightmare, and it takes her a moment to come back to reality. Her breathing is ragged, and she tries to calm herself down but the words of her father ring through her head.

‘Weak’

She couldn’t let him believe that she was weak, she needed to show him that she could be better than her brother and that she deserved to be his favorite. She just needed to train as hard as she could and then she could beat her brother and the blue team at Capture the Flag. Maybe then her father would be proud of her.

No one notices her leaving, she manages to change into her sport gear before going to the training ground. There is no one and she lets out a sigh of relief as she takes her spear in her hands before turning to look at the dummy with determination. 

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, hitting the dummy as if it had hurt her personally, maybe imagining her dad as the dummy made her even more aggressive. It made the other campers avoid the training ground, thinking that it was better to leave Clarisse alone when she was in a bad mood. 

“Clarisse?”, she hears you say, and she realizes that the sun has come up now, the rays of sunshine beating down her back as she turns to look at you. You look worried, a frown between your eyebrows as you look at her.

“Are you alright?”, you ask her, your tone careful, as if you don’t want to scare her with the question but she just nods.

“I am, I just need to train a bit more,” she says, and she is ready to turn back to the dummy before your voice breaks the silence.

“Don’t you want to eat some lunch?”, the question surprises her, not the fact that you are asking her to eat lunch but the fact that it is already lunch. She still had so much to do to be perfect and she couldn’t lose any time.

“I’m alright, I’m not really hungry but go without me,” she tells you and although you still looked worried you simply nod before coming closer to her.

“Fine, but do I get a kiss before I go?”, she can’t refuse you that, she has never been able to and as she brings you into a kiss, she enjoys the few seconds of you being close to her. As she pulls back, she sees you pouting as she doesn’t deepen the kiss, but she just smiles and pats your ass.

“I’ll see you later princess,” she says, and you let out a defeated sigh before nodding and leaving her to her training.

The rest of the afternoon is spent training but as the sun starts to fade into a sunset, she starts to feel dizzy. She tells herself it’s the lack of water but as she tries to take a step towards her water bottle, she suddenly feels her head turning. Before she knows it, she hears you screaming her name, and everything turns black.

--

There is something cold against her forehead and she tries to get away from it, but a voice shushes her, trying to calm her down.

Her eyes flutter open, and she sees you sitting on the bed next to her, your eyes are bloodshot but there is a relieved smile on your lips.

“Hey, you. How are you feeling?”, you ask softly as you brush a curl away from her forehead.

“Tired, and I have a huge headache,” she whispers, and you nod slowly.

“What happened?”, she asks after a few seconds and a sigh leaves your lips.

“I went to find you to get you to come eat something but before I could reach you, you had fallen on the ground,” your hand is trembling as you brush her curls, and she can see the wetness in your eyes.

“You scared me so much Clarisse,” you whisper, and she feels like someone has punched her, she tries to get up to reassure you that she is alright but as her head begins to feel even heavier you push her down again.

“You need to rest, two days and eat and drink enough,” there is that stern tone in your voice that you usually only use for your younger siblings, and she can only lay back and listen to you.

“Yes ma’am,” she says, trying to lift up the mood but you shake your head.

“Why did you push yourself that hard? You never do that,” she swallows hard at the question, as much as she didn’t want to say it, she knew you wouldn’t let it go.

“I saw my father in a dream, and he told me I needed to do better and stop being weak,” she says, so softly that she isn’t sure if you heard her but as you shake your head in disbelief, she knows you did.

“That asshole, I really want to beat him up right now,” she can’t help but be surprised at the words and the anger in them. You were never one to be angry, always trying to see the positive side and calming her down.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea princess, he is the God of war after all,” she says but she still looks at you in adoration, the way you look ready to get out of there and fight her father makes her weirdly emotional.

“Well, a twelve-year-old Percy beat him so why couldn’t I do it?”, you say with a smirk and Clarisse can’t help but snort at your words.

“I’ll have to teach you a few things before that,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“But first, resting,” you whisper, and she can only nod in agreement, enjoying the familiar silence between the both of you.

“You aren’t weak Clarisse; you know that right? You are one of the strongest fighters here and if your father can’t see that then he is the biggest idiot on earth. Never let anyone tell you that you aren’t strong enough, you are perfect as you are,” a tear rolls down her cheek at your words and you brush it away with a sad smile, love and adoration shining through your eyes. 

“If you ever doubt yourself or you just need someone to talk to you, you can always come to me. I will always be your biggest supporter,” Clarisse can’t reach your lips but as she squeezes your hand you seem to understand what she wants and you kiss her softly, as if she was something precious.

“I love you,” she whispers, and your smile widens at her words.

“I love you too, so much,” Clarisse can only kiss you again, trying to tell you everything she feels through the kiss.

She doesn’t know that you have already asked a now thirteen-year-old Percy to have your back next time you see Ares, to teach the God of War a lesson. And that the boy had happily agreed, already ready to go to Mount Olympus and fight him right there and then with Annabeth by his side. She didn’t realize just yet how many people cared for her, but with time she would.

[doremimosasol]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 - 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✧

Ravenclaw!reader here

Hufflepuff!reader here

Gryffindor!reader here

warnings: suggestive?

word count: 1,1 k

requested

breathtaking

Slytherin

pureblood

hard working

you would think this could easily win a guy like Mattheo Riddle over, but it wasn’t all this that convinced Mattheo you were the girl he wanted

you were intelligent and it showed in the way you acted, some almost wondered why you didn't get sorted into Ravenclaw

but it were your snarky comments, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you

you knew what you wanted and always made sure to get it

yes, you were pretty, but your personality made you even more attractive to him

respectful and elegant, with that small touch of fire that got you into Slytherin

there was that fire in you, and he wanted it to ignite him too

the way you carried yourself: shoulders back, chin up, but still with that kind smile of yours

you were approachable but to some, you didn’t look like it

the confidence and pride you radiated was intimidating to some

elegance was written on your face

he fell for you fast

but he kept it a secret

he’d even start acting mean to you to convince himself he didn’t fall in love

because how dare he fall in love, right?

nevertheless, it didn’t help because there was no way for him to get rid of those feelings for you

he started to avoid you

avoiding eye contact

avoiding you in the hallways

avoiding your presence in the common room

he’d even spend his evenings in his room alone when he knew you were in the common room

it made him feel weak, those feelings for you

they were no good for him, so the only solution was to lock it all up

to lock himself up

you’d start to get confused because you thought you two were working on something

a friendship?

something more?

it didn’t matter, you just enjoyed his presence

there was something mysterious yet so attractive about him

it wasn’t that much, but after all, you fell for him too

he didn’t even have to try

any girl would be crazy to not fall for him

oh,but you fell hard

completely head over heels

maybe even before he did

you noticed him in class, always

the way he played with all those rings he always wore, and he wore them good

oh my god

it fit his vibe so well and it was bloody hot

he always had that look on his face

it seemed like his eyes almost held no emotion in them

but it was obvious deep down, his eyes covered the whirlwinds going on in his mind

you wanted to know what hid behind those browns

the way his hair fell, it was majestic

he just looked so effortlessly good

and the way he was almost a total red flag?

smash

it went on like this for years, neither of you having the courage to confess

and neither was he able to because then it might feel a little too real to him

you fell for him, but he fell harder

and it drove him absolutely insane

but when you’d start talking to other guys…

it was like something snapped in his head, this sudden switch

at that moment he knew: you belonged to him

you were his

you noticed the small sabotaging he did to your dates, it was almost endearing

but when he went as far as getting one of the guy’s arm in a cast, it were a few too many steps over the line

he had never fought with any of your dates

yes he did fight regularly

but that was because most of the time someone provoked him

was it because he gently touched your waist? the way he kissed you on the cheek?

you couldn’t think of any other reason

you’d heard he immediately threw a punch at the guy, the moment you left

he didn’t even spare a second to let him get away

“She’s mine.”

at that moment you decided to approach him about his absolutely despicable behavior

it wasn’t pleasant to confront him

the first chance you saw him in the corridor outside, you pulled him into your room

before you knew it though, you were pressed against your wall

dominant like he was, he got you under his spell first

his head close to yours

heavy breathing filling the room

breaths mingling

and tension palpable

almost ready to be cut by a single feather even

“You’re mine”

he didn’t even waste a second to kiss you after those words

you never expected it to happen so fast

to happen like this

and for it to feel so good

he wanted you

and you wanted him

and it was more than obvious in the kiss

it wasn’t just a kiss

it felt like it was the air he needed to live

the kiss turned into a full-on makeout session fast enough

and before you knew it you both ended up in your bed

together

clothes?

probably somewhere on the floor

from that night on, you two started dating

it was sweet

he’d regularly take you on dates

mostly private though

picknicks by the Black Lake

candlelit dinners on top of the astronomy tower

and the regular visits to each other’s dorms

he tried everything to make you happy

though it was very sweet he could also be possessive

extremely possessive

a guy could only look at you and his breath would already start to quicken

you didn’t know why he worried so much, you’d never in a lifetime replace him

hell, you would be extremely stupid to

he was the only one you wanted

he’d also regularly give you gifts

most of the time they were flowers

it’d always bring a smile to your face and remind you again why you fell in love with him

a month into the relationship he gave you a bracelet

silver, with emerald stones

and a small snake circling around it

a sign of both your house and his heirloom

he was proud of it, being the descendant of Salazar himself

he could be sweet but oh he could be rough

and bad Quidditch games were the obvious evidence of it

traces painting your skin for days

but don’t you even dare try to cover them up

if you did, he’d make sure to add some more

this time even more obvious than the first ones

you were his and he wanted it to be clear the the rest of the school

it’d be a sweet but bumpy relationship

but besides all that, you could look through all the imperfections

and you ignited a fire inside of him to be a better person

a better person for you

a better person for the world

[kokomyass]

origami rose

thinking about satoru's love being shown through the sweetest things ^3^

Satoru Gojo was up to something again. You could tell by the way he’d been sneaking glances at you all afternoon, a mischievous smile constantly playing on his lips. It was the kind of smile that usually meant he had some grand, ridiculous plan brewing—one that would inevitably end with you shaking your head, half-amused, half-exasperated.

It started innocently enough. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through a book, when you noticed Satoru quietly rummaging through a drawer. He was uncharacteristically quiet, which only made you more suspicious. He was the type who could barely walk across a room without making a spectacle of it, so, to you, silence was always a red flag.

“Satoru, what are you doing?” you finally asked, unable to suppress your curiosity any longer.

He froze, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and slowly turned to face you. His grin widened, and he held up a small, folded piece of paper. “Just preparing something… romantic, my dearest,” he said, his tone laced with dramatic flair.

You narrowed your eyes, not quite trusting that smirk. “Romantic, huh?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, striding over to you with his typical full confidence (something you found VERY attractive but denied to supress his ego). He stopped right in front of you, the piece of paper still clutched in his hand. “But it’s a surprise, so you have to close your eyes.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll just have to use my infinite charms to convince you,” he said, winking.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Fine, fine....” you relented, closing your eyes. “But if this ends with me covered in flour or something, I’m not going to forgive you.”

“Trust me,” he said, his voice softening in a way that made your heart flutter. “You’ll love it.”

You heard the rustle of paper as he moved closer, and then the softest brush of something against your lips—a kiss, sweet and fleeting. It made you smile, but before you could react, he spoke again.

“Okay baby, now open.”

When you opened your eyes, you found Satoru kneeling in front of you, holding out the piece of paper like it was the most precious thing in the world. But it wasn’t just a piece of paper; it was an origami flower of a rose, delicately folded with an almost surprising level of skill.

“You made this?” you asked, a bit taken aback by the thoughtful gesture.

He nodded, looking slightly bashful for once. “I wanted to do something different,” he admitted, his usual bravado toned down. “I know I’m usually all about the big gestures, but… I wanted to give you something small. Something that’s just for you, my amazing, kind, beatiful and, sexy girlfriend, if i may add...”

You let out a warm chuckle at his unseriousness but regardless, your heart melted at his words. As much as Satoru loved to be larger-than-life, there were moments like this when he showed you the quieter, more vulnerable side of himself—the side that cared deeply, even if he didn’t always show it in the most conventional ways.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, reaching out to take the flower. But before your fingers could touch it, he pulled it back slightly, a teasing smile returning to his lips.

“Ah-ah,” he said, his playful tone back in full force. “You have to say the magic words first.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning forward to kiss him again, this time on the lips. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, one that left both of you smiling when you finally pulled away.

“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection. Then, with a chuckle, you added, “You stubborn little pain in the ass.”

Satoru grinned, his eyes sparkling as he finally handed you the flower. “And I love you,” he said, his voice soft, sincere. “Even when you’re onto my antics.”

You took the origami flower, holding it delicately between your fingers. It was just a small, simple thing, but it carried so much of his heart in it—his love, his silliness, his desire to make you smile in ways only he could.

credit to artist thatsallitchief

[kleine-joost]

Whine & Dine 18+ MDNI

Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

a/n: this too me way too long to write!! i tried to make it smutty but i just can't help writing cute fluff :)

WARNINGS: joost being a MUNCH, reader is AFAB, uuuhhh smoking?, there's a 'good girl' in there too

You’d always loved the process of getting ready for a first date. Choosing the perfect outfit, making sure your hair looked effortless, yet tamed, and the shot of liquid courage right before you stepped out the door, oftentimes it was more enjoyable than the actual dates you went on.

Either the guy couldn’t hold a conversation to save his life, or he forgot to mention one tiny detail like he was still living with his ex, or he’d make a comment about how you weren’t afraid to eat in front of a man. Your love life was a long string of red flags and ghostings. But you always persevered.

Tonight felt like a good night for you; you had a pep in your step and you were feeling confident. The guy seemed nice enough in the short conversations you’d had on the dating app where you matched. He was one of those sensitive, creative types, and he looked just gorgeous in his photos.

The restaurant you were meeting at was only a short walk from your apartment, so you made it there with plenty of time to spare.

You’d never been, but you must’ve walked past it a hundred times. The place always gave off vibes that were just a bit too cool for you, with its ornate lettered sign and rooftop bar open every weekend in the summer that blasted lo-fi beats that echoed through the streets.

Walking in, you were shocked at how cold it was inside. You felt goosebumps prick up all over and a shiver went down your spine. The room was quite loud, the sound of knives and forks clattering on plates and lively chatter disoriented you for a second–or maybe that was the tequila shot finally kicking in.

You saw the golden hair at the bar just by the entrance. A flash of excitement jumped through you as you approached. 

“Joost?” You asked tentatively, partly to not frighten him and partly to soften the blow if you’d picked out the wrong person at the bar.

He turned around and you got a good look at his face in the glinted orange light of the restaurant, highlighted with blue neon that shone over the bar. He looked…different in three dimensions. Seeing him properly had you smile, as he smiled back at and stood to give you a polite, short hug.

“You’re early!” He laughed. Oh, his laugh.

You chuckled. “You can’t talk!”

“I like to be prepared!” He feigned offence.

You let out a giggle, the kind of giggle normally only saved for when young girls talk to their schoolyard crush–you weren’t quite sure how you conjured it.

You were relieved when the conversation flowed so easily over dinner. You talked about friends and films and your teenage years. You’d learnt Joost was a musician–he was actually doing quite well for himself on that front–and though his songs didn’t really seem like your scene, you made a mental note to listen to a couple at least, he was so passionate when he was talking about his music influences growing up, it sparked inspiration for you to branch out.

You both finished your meals and they’d been taken away by a very sleep-deprived looking busboy…but you just didn’t want the night to end. And you felt like you’d gotten to know Joost well, but you didn’t know him that well. What would he think about you if you wanted to keep the night going?

You dwelled on the thought as you paid–well he paid, much to your protests– and both made your way onto the street outside. The sun had gone down now and streetlamps let off a soft aura every ten feet down the road.

Joost immediately took a cigarette packet out of the pocket of his jeans and placed one between his lips–lips that you had stared at far too much during the evening–before holding out the packet to you with raised eyebrows, silently asking if you wanted one. You grabbed the box and took one out, along with the bright green, plastic lighter in the packet as well. You tried to light it a couple times, but the spark on the lighter wouldn’t catch. Joost saw you struggling. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit old, you have to shake it a bit before you light it,” he said with the unlit cigarette still between his lips and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You shook it a few times and tried it again…and nothing.

“Here…” He took a step towards you and grabbed the lighter, shaking it a few times and lighting it immediately. He held the flame to the end of your cigarette. “I’ve got the magic touch.”

You both stood on the pavement outside the still-bustling restaurant in a comfortable silence. Between drags on your cigarette, you snuck looks at him leaning against a small planter across from you, he always managed to catch you looking.

“So, uh, did you drive here?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Walked, just live down the way…” You pointed to your right, to the direction of your apartment building. 

“Nice, nice…” He trailed off.

“Um,” you stuttered out, getting his attention again. “Would you mind…walking me home? If it’s not too much trouble, it’s just that it’s dark and…”

“Sure,” he said, cutting you off with a smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You were always very street smart, and you were pretty good at picking up on if someone was dodgy or not. There was just something about Joost that made you trust him, he seemed very honest, and you saw how his hands shook when you first met; you knew he was just as nervous as you.

As you walked, you continued to chat–just smalltalk mostly, he was telling a story about his friends from school. His face lit up when he spoke about the things he loved, you could tell he had so much passion about music and his friends and art. 

You didn’t notice that along the walk, you both slowly started to drift towards each other, not until your fingers lightly brushed against each other. Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand, fingers firmly intertwined with yours. And he never even faltered in conversation, but you saw his smile as you held onto him–a smile you returned.

Eventually you made it to the front of your building. As you slowed your heart hurt just a bit that the night was coming to an end.

You both stood in silence for a moment, you’d let go of his hand now and your palm was much too cold.

“Well…” You started. “I should…”

Joost nodded. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your melancholy you would’ve noticed the same look of sadness in his eyes.

“This was really fun though,” you continued. “We should do this again sometime.”

He smiled, you could for sure get used to that smile. “Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m free so we can get a drink somewhere or something.”

“Sounds good,” you grinned back at him, another moment of silence. “Get home safe.”

He nodded, then leant forward with his arms open. This hug was…stronger than the quick, polite one in the restaurant, you were truly engulfed in him this time, you could smell the cologne he was wearing; something warm and homely, but not like the kind that smelt like food, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it exactly though.

You didn’t want to let go, locking your hands around his waist. You couldn’t say how long you both stood in that embrace, it was like time stopped as you were taken up by him. You turned your head to look at him, he was looking at you.

Without too much thought to convince you against it, you closed the gap between your faces.

His lips were softer than you thought they would be, and his mustache didn’t tickle your face like you assumed it would have. Joost deepened the kiss, placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck. He was being so gentle, like you could’ve shattered under his touch. But you were hungry, you wished it would last forever, getting totally and utterly lost in him.

Once you had pulled away for a proper breath your bodies separated, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I should get going,” he said, breaking the silence.

You nodded. “Good night, Joost.”

“‘Night.”

You began to walk towards your building, a smile on your face that you couldn’t even try to hide. You entered the code to get in the front door and opened it, looking back to where Joost was standing. He wasn’t making any effort to walk away, he was just standing, watching you with a smile much like yours.

In a moment of unfound confidence you spoke, not even registering what you were saying as it left your lips. “Would you like to come up for a drink?”

It was a loaded question, you knew it and he knew it. But the aching between your legs wouldn’t let you get embarrassed by your forwardness.

He silently followed you into the building, grabbing your hand that held the heavy, tinted glass door for him as he stepped over the precipice. No words were shared as you waited for the elevator; his warm hand spoke enough, lightly tracing the end of his thumb over the back of your hand.

The elevator was empty apart from you two, and it seemed almost to halt to a stop as it slowly chugged up to the seventh floor where your quaint one bedroom apartment was. You leant against the cool metal wall opposite the doors, Joost was doing the same next to you.

There was an air of…anticipation surrounding you, mixed with excitement, and a little apprehensiveness. You looked at Joost, this was one of the first times you’d looked at him when he wasn’t looking at you, you could truly look at him now, really perceive him. You noticed the bags under his eyes, and how the colour of his eyebrows transitioned from a deep gold to almost pure white. He told you over dinner that he was bullied in school for the way he looked, and you could understand why–kids are cruel–but he looked perfect to you.

He caught you staring out the corner of his eye, he smirked at you. You let out a low chuckle as heat rose to your cheeks when he turned to look at you.

“You look nice,” you said in a low whisper.

“Nice?” He feigned confusion.

“Like you look kind, that sort of nice,” you continued. “Also you just…have a nice face.”

He showed off a proud smile.

Your apartment was warm, you’d left a window cracked open and the August air crept its way in over the course of the evening. Joost watched as you hung up your jacket by the door, pulled off your boots and dropped your keys on your small, cluttered dining table. He wasn’t sure what to do–or even how to stand–as you stepped into your tiny kitchen and opened the fridge.

“I have…some orange wine, but it’s not very good, or I have pear juice.” You looked up at him, fidgeting in his spot near the front door. “You can hang up your jacket, take off your shoes if you like.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, then slipped his sneakers off and took off his jacket. For the first time you saw all his tattoos, his arms were littered with little scrawled drawings. You wondered if each of them had a meaning, you would love to hear the stories behind them all. “Uh, I’ll have some pear juice.”

You sprung to action, grabbing two mis-matched glasses from your cabinet and pouring the juice into each of them. Joost followed you as you carefully stepped towards your sofa–so you didn’t spill any of the sticky juice onto your floor.

“Your place is nice,” he commented once you were both comfortably sitting on the sofa–at a distance.

“Thanks…” You looked around at the white walls that were decorated with framed posters of a couple of your favourite films. “It’s good for now.”

“It’s a home…” There was a look of melancholy in Joost’s eyes, it made you wonder. “I travel a lot, so I’m not really home a lot.”

You nodded, taking a sip.

“I can see you in here though, it’s-uh-it’s very you,” he continued, a small smile on his lips.

Something about Joost seeing you in your home–your haven–made you smile. He’d been so attentive over dinner, and it made you happy to think he was listening to you, understanding you.

“You’re very sweet,” you said after a short moment of silence. You’d noticed that silence was comfortable with Joost, you didn’t feel the painful urge to have to fill every second with a new question or an unrelated story. Conversation just felt so natural with him.

He turned away, pressing his face into his shoulder at that. You saw his cheeks redden. Part of you loved how the smallest compliment made his blush so much, you hoped you’d be able to give him more, deeper compliments just to see what he would do.

You were feeling brave. You placed your glass of the coffee table and slithered towards him on the sofa, placing a light hand on his knee. His skin was hot. He looked back towards you as you grabbed the glass from his hand and placed it next to yours.

“Is this okay?” You asked in a low voice.

Joost didn’t reply, just placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck and leaning forward to kiss you. This kiss wasn’t like your sweet, goodnight kiss outside, there was a subtext to it. You quickly opened your lips, letting your tongues meet. He pulled you closer so your chests were pressed together. You skin felt too hot, you were sweating even as a breeze blew in through the open window next to you.

You parted, quickly pulling your blouse over your head in hopes you’ll cool off. You saw Joost’s eyes widen, looking down at your body. His mouth was immediately back on yours, wet and messy as your hand returned to his knee before slowly inching further and further up his thigh. You pressed your fingertips into his flesh, getting a low moan from him.

He began to press kisses down your neck, settling just below your collarbone. You felt his teeth over the soft skin, and the pressure of him sucking. No doubt there’d be a bruise there later.

“Joost,” you slowly whispered.

“Hmm?” He replied, placing more wet kisses over your chest.

You had to think before you spoke, you could barely string a sentence together with how bothered his wandering hands were making you. “C-can you…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I want you to eat me out.” You pulled his face off your chest to look you in the eyes. “Please.”

He smirked, pressing your shoulders back until you were laying on the sofa. He quickly peeled your jeans off your hips and down your legs, discarding them on the floor before leaning down to place a gentle kiss at your belly button, then a little lower, and a little lower again. 

Once he finally mouthed over your clothed pussy, you were so lightheaded you could barely think straight.

He slowly pulled your panties down your legs, seeing just how much you were dripping. He couldn’t hide the smile plastered across his face at the thought of you so hot and bothered by him.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered, lowering his face to your pussy and placing a light kiss to your clit.

You were so sensitive, you instantly cowered away from his touch. But he grabbed your hips to hold you in place. It felt like the room went cold, with goosebumps raising all over your skin.

You noticed that Joost was watching you, just for a second, though he just looked back to your core once he realised you’d caught him staring. He dove in.

You would’ve thought he hadn’t had dinner with how…passionate he was. He wasn’t letting up, listening to every direction you gave him; ‘lower’ or ‘more fingers’, and a ‘don’t stop’.

Before you knew it, you felt weightless as he drew you into orgasm. It wasn’t like when you did it yourself, you finally understood all those cheesy romance novels talking about seeing stars, because you had a whole galaxy in your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to come down from the high. Joost helped you through it, bringing you back down to Earth with gentle rubs over your hips and a ‘good girl’ thrown in for good measure.

Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke. “I don’t do this all the time, by the way.”

“Do what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This.” You gestured to, well, your still-naked body on your couch. You would’ve been feeling self conscious if you didn’t just have one of the best orgasms of your life. “I don’t want you to think I’m a slut or anything.”

He laughed. “Leifje, if you’re a slut, I am too.”

His laugh brightened the room, it eased you. 

“Well, we haven’t gotten to you yet, have we?”

xxx

[softonshanks]

Shanks x reader taking bath together! Something fluff ya know? (No need to be smut)

Hey Anon, thank you for this lovely request. I'm sorry if this took a bit long but I just fell in love with how this story could possibly take place, so I have added a few more details I hope you will enjoy. It's a bit longer that I expected, but I kinda like how it turned out. Thank you again, let me know if you like it in the comments and enjoy <3<3

A Soothing Surprise

Characters: Shanks x female reader Word count: 1922 words

The Red-Haired Pirates were anchored near a small, peaceful island, the kind where nothing much happened. Shanks had been walking a bit slower these days, grimacing now and then while pretending it was nothing. It wasn’t his first time dealing with an aching back, but this time felt different and no amount of rum, jokes, or teasing could ease the nagging pain. He had been feeling it for almost a week now. That dull, persistent ache in his back that seemed to remind him with every movement: you're not 20 anymore. His crew, ever the jokers, hadn't let him forget it either. They teased him relentlessly about "getting old," and while Shanks played along with his usual carefree smile, a part of him couldn't help but think about it. The once endless nights of drinking and partying were now followed by stiff mornings, and though he was still the infamous Red-Haired Shanks, there was no denying that time was catching up with him.

"You're getting old, Captain!" Yasopp had joked earlier that morning, throwing Shanks a knowing grin.

Shanks had laughed it off, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew they weren’t wrong. Sure, he was still powerful, still strong, but he wasn’t in his twenties anymore, and sometimes the creaking bones reminded him of that fact. Normally, the banter and the drinking would lift his spirits, but tonight, even with the party in full swing on the deck, Shanks felt a little distant, a little thoughtful.

Shanks had always been the one to go out of his way to do things for his crew, whether it was helping Lucky Roo gather supplies, buying cigarettes for Benn, or giving Yasopp new can of oil to clean his gun. But who was doing something for him?

Y/N decided it was time to change that.

The next morning, as the ship docked at the island, Y/N had her plan ready. She had spent the previous night carefully writing out clues and stashing them in various places she knew Shanks would eventually find throughout the day.

The first clue was tucked neatly inside his favorite mug, the one he used for his morning coffee. Shanks, groggy but in good spirits, lifted the mug to take a sip, only for a small piece of paper to fall into his lap.

“Huh?” he said to himself, blinking down at the note. He opened it up and read:

"A Captain’s day starts with more than just brew. Check under the barrel where you stashed the new."

His brow furrowed, but a slow grin spread across his face. “What’s this all about?”

Intrigued, Shanks followed the clue to the ship's supply closet, where he had hidden some rare bottles of rum the week before. Sure enough, another note was waiting for him.

"You're warm now, Captain, but not yet done. Find the red flag, and you’ll be closer to the fun."

He scratched his head, chuckling to himself. “What’s that girl even up to?”, asked himself, perfectly knowing that it was all her doing. After all, Benn would have never set up a vicious game like this, while Y/N was just like him in some aspects: funny, always ready for a giggle, an eternal child ready to play.

He set off, following the clues she had hidden around the island. Each note was just vague enough to make him think, but not so hard that it was frustrating.

"Your treasure awaits, but first you must find, A place where the wind sings and the sun shines."

This clue led him to a windmill at the top of a hill, another to a quiet beach where the waves lapped gently at the shore, and another to an old oak tree that must have been standing for centuries. It was fun—simple and thoughtful—and he couldn’t help but feel lighter with every step he took. Finally, as the sun began to dip low in the sky, he found the final clue tucked under a smooth stone at the edge of a peaceful garden. It led him to a small, cozy inn nestled on the outskirts of the village. When he opened the door to the room, he found Y/N sitting on the bed, her legs crossed and a playful smile on her lips.

“Well, it’s about time you got here,” she teased, crossing her arms. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.”

Shanks blinked, looking around the room and trying to figure out what to do with her, alone, on a bed. “What’s all this, Y/N? What do you want me to do?”.

Y/N stood and motioned toward a small door at the side of the room. “Go take a look in the bathroom, Captain.”

Curious, Shanks pushed the door open and immediately burst out laughing. The bathroom was filled with the scent of lavender, and the tub was filled to the brim with warm water, bubbles, and flower petals. It looked like something straight out of a fancy spa, the kind Shanks would love to visit, but would never admit it.

“You even put up candles,” he pointed out, incapable of stopping his laugh. He turned to Y/N, amusement dancing in his eyes. “This is a bit girly for me, don’t you think?”

Y/N shrugged, unfazed. “Girly or not, it’ll help with your back”. Her Captain raised his eyebrow, not fully convinced. “Just get in the tub, Shanks," she shrugged as he smirked, peeling off his coat and shirt. "Alright, alright. But don’t blame me when you start swooning over my rugged pirate physique."

As he continued to undress, Y/N called out from the other room. "Leave your underwear on! We don’t need any... unexpected surprises." Shanks chuckled, unable to resist. "How do you know it’s a bad surprise?" He winked at her. "I’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know." Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"This whole elaborate plan just to get my shirt off, huh?" he teased as he sank into the tub, letting the warm water envelop him.

Y/N perched herself on a stool behind him, her fingers gently pressing into his shoulders. "Nope, just trying to take care of the captain. Warm water and lavender should help with the tension. But honestly, if this whole treasure hunt was too complex for you, you could have just said so."

"Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve been challenged by something as intricate as finding a hidden inn," he teased. "But I have to admit, it’s doing the trick”. The warm water immediately started to soothe the ache in his back. He closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the tub, letting the lavender scent relax him even more. “Alright, how are you feeling so far?”, she asked hoping that her plan was working.

“Much better,” Shanks admitted, though whether it was the bath or her thoughtfulness, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Good,” she said as she began to gently massage his shoulders. “This’ll help release some tension. The warm water and lavender should take care of the rest.”

Shanks let out a low groan of satisfaction. “Why are you doing all of this?”

Y/N chuckled. “You do stuff for us all the time. A wise captain once said a crew is like a family, a one’s burden is everybody’s burden”.

“Sounds like a smart captain, do I know him?,” he jokingly asked, catching his quote. “Don’t think so”, she answered while her hands kept massaging his toned shoulders. “This captain is always happy and smiley, instead you’ve been grumpy for a while.”

“Grumpy?” Shanks asked with mock offense. “I’m never grumpy.”

She snorted. “Sure, Captain. You’ve been grumbling and wincing for days.”

As her hands worked on his shoulders, Shanks felt the tension slowly melt away, and before long, he was feeling better than he had in days. Still, Y/N’s touch had a different effect on him too—one that was harder to ignore.

“Alright, I’m gonna give you some privacy now,” Y/N said after a few minutes. “Just wanted to make sure you were settled in.”

She stood, ready to leave, but Shanks caught her hand. “Wait, can you hand me a towel first?”

Y/N nodded and grabbed a towel from the nearby shelf. As she handed it to him, Shanks gave her a devilish grin and pulled the towel—and her—toward him with one swift tug.

Before Y/N could react, she lost her balance and tumbled forward, landing directly in the tub with Shanks.

Water splashed everywhere as Shanks burst out laughing, his chest heaving with mirth. Y/N, on the other hand, was mortified, her face flushed as she found herself lying against his bare chest.

“Shanks!” she gasped, trying to push herself up, but he only laughed harder.

“Hey, you’re the one who got me in this tub in the first place,” he teased. “Now you get to enjoy it too!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, her embarrassment fading as she realized how ridiculous the situation was. She wriggled slightly, trying to get comfortable. “This is not how I planned it to go.”

Shanks smirked. “Then maybe you should’ve planned better.”

After a beat, Shanks raised an eyebrow. “Well? You’ve already fallen in. Might as well stay.”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m keeping my shorts on.”

She reached up to peel off her soaked top, revealing her bra underneath. Shanks let out a low whistle. “Well, if I knew this was how the night was going to end, I would’ve had back pain ages ago.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve seen me in a bikini on the ship a hundred times.”

“Yeah,” Shanks said, his voice teasing, “but it’s always a pleasant surprise to be remembered of what you are hiding under you shirt”. She rolled her eyes, settling into the tub. "You’re impossible," she repeated, though this time there was a fondness in her voice. They sat together in comfortable silence, playing with the bubbles and petals floating in the water. He couldn’t help but taking some flower petals in his hand and letting it gently fall in her hair, making her giggle, her eyes shyly watching the water. The heat of the bath and the soothing scent of lavender wrapped around them like a warm blanket, and for the first time in a while, Shanks felt completely at ease.

Eventually, the water began to cool, and they reluctantly decided it was time to get out. As Shanks stood up and reached for a towel, he let out a soft grunt.

Y/N’s brow furrowed with concern. "Does it still hurt?" she asked, her voice soft. Shanks shook his head, grinning. "On the contrary, I feel amazing. And now I can’t use my back pain as an excuse to make you do this again."

Y/N laughed, tossing him another towel.

"Guess I’ll just have to come up with another excuse," Shanks smirked, wrapping the towel around his waist.

As they stepped out of the bathroom, the tension that had been weighing Shanks down for days had finally lifted. He felt lighter, freer, and though he might not have been 20 anymore, he realized that moments like these—shared with the people who cared about him—made aging feel a little less daunting. And as Y/N flashed him one last smile before heading to her room, Shanks couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was still young enough for a few more surprises in life.

[roosterforme]

Red Flags, Green Flags | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 

Warnings: Fluff!

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more.

Hangman tossed some darts listlessly at the dartboard and sighed.  "What's your problem, man?" Bradley asked. "You look miserable tonight." "Yeah, you usually get off on beating us at darts. What's wrong?" Phoenix asked.  "I have a girl meeting me here for a second date in a little while," Hangman drawled, sipping his whiskey. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have asked her out again." Payback snorted. "What's wrong with her? She not hot enough for you?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. That was probably the case as each girl Jake dated somehow looked more like a model than the previous one. "Nah, she's real cute," Hangman said, scratching his chin. "She's just giving off some red flags for me. I think I was momentarily blinded by her face when I asked her out again, because she's definitely not my type." "What red flags does she have?" Phoenix asked, taking her turn at darts.  Bradley settled into his seat to listen. This ought to be good. "Well, she's really close with her family. Likes spending time with them," Jake said with a frown. Bradley's brow scrunched up; he thought that sounded pretty nice, actually. "And she volunteers all the time. At the library and the animal shelter and the soup kitchen. She's always so busy, it took forever to even schedule the first date! So I don't see this lasting past tonight," Jake added, finishing his drink. "She sounds pretty good to me," Bradley said cautiously. Actually she sounded really great. "You could always volunteer with her one day, then you'd get to spend some time with her." Jake scoffed. "I'd rather just find a girl who wants to spend her time with me," he said, flashing his charming smile. "This one is finishing graduate school for social work and likes to take her grandma to bingo. Plus, she definitely seems like the kind of girl who would wanna hold hands all the time." He grimaced as he finished.  Bradley just gaped at the other aviator, rendered speechless, because Jake had just described his dream girl. Cute, smart, helpful, loving, independent, and kind. And if she agreed to a second date with Jake, then she was definitely interested in him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" "Oh shit, there she is," Jake grumbled, setting down his glass and heading toward the bar. Bradley stood up and stared as Jake approached a beautiful woman with a stunning smile.   "Is he for real?" Bradley asked Phoenix in a dreamy voice. "She's awesome." "He's an idiot, but we already knew that," Phoenix told him with a smirk. "Why don't you go talk to her, Rooster. She's adorable." Bradley shook his head. "I can't, Nat. She's on a date with him!" But the more Bradley watched you and Jake together, it seemed like you weren't really into him either. You were smiling, but it wasn't reaching your eyes, and you had your arms crossed as Jake chatted with you. "Hmmm, fuck it," Bradley muttered as he took a deep breath and headed for the bar.  ---------------------------------------- Jake was nice and attractive, but he wasn't really doing anything for you. And now you were starting to regret agreeing to meet him here. You'd been contemplating calling him all day and canceling for tonight and any future dates, but you ultimately decided to give it one more shot.  But now you weren't paying any attention to him at all, because your eyes just landed on the most handsome man you'd seen in a long time walking up to the bar near where you were standing. He was literally the definition of tall, dark and handsome, and wearing a fun Hawaiian shirt. And he was looking right at you.  You felt yourself smile at him like an idiot when he grinned at you from behind Jake. He had a mustache that somehow made him look cute and playful. You wished he would say something to you. Oh shit, you hadn't heard anything Jake was saying.  You tried to pry your attention away from the newcomer, but then he rested a hand on Jake's shoulder and said, "Hey, Hangman, you gonna introduce me to your new friend?"  His voice! You were biting the inside of your cheek to keep calm, because this man's voice was sexy. Like pillow talk sexy, and making out in a movie theater sexy.  "Uh, sure," Jake replied, looking mildly annoyed. "Y/N, this is Rooster. Rooster, this is Y/N." "That's a pretty name," Rooster told you with a crooked grin, and it took you a second to realize he was talking about you. "Thanks," you replied with a laugh. "Rooster must be your call sign? You're an aviator, too?" "Yeah, my name's Bradley." "Bradley, it's nice to meet you." You liked his name, and his silly call sign. You liked the way he was looking at you and his kind brown eyes.  "Jake didn't get you a drink? That's not very nice, Jake," Bradley said to your date who just shrugged. "I'll get you one. What do you want, Y/N?"  You had to bite your lip before you accidentally replied with 'you'.  "Gin and tonic," you told him, and you watched as he was instantly flagging down a bartender. His huge bicep was flexing below his sleeve as he leaned against the bar and turned toward you. "So, Jake was telling us all about you," he said, and you were surprised once again to find Jake was still in your proximity, because Bradley had your full attention now. "Really?" you asked, eyeing Jake, surprised he would have been telling anyone about you. There wasn't much to tell after the first date. He didn't seem that interested in you, and you hadn't even kissed him goodnight.  "Yeah, he said you're getting a master's degree, and that you like volunteering and hanging out with your grandma," Bradley said, handing your drink to you when it arrived.  "Um, yeah, I do," you said with a blush as Jake smirked at you.  But you turned your attention back to Bradley when he spoke again. "That's cool. I volunteer with Big Brothers and Big Sisters as a youth mentor. And I used to love knitting with my grandma when I was a kid. I'm still pretty good at it, actually." Your jaw was hanging open, and you were having a hard time speaking. Was he for real? You took a sip of your drink and tried to gather your thoughts. Was it okay to ditch Jake and hang out with Bradley instead?  "I volunteer a few times a week, but I always make sure I have time to take my Nana to bingo," you said with a laugh when Bradley smiled at you. "You're really a youth mentor?" "Yeah, last week I took some kids on a hike to the state park beach, and Wednesday evening I'm going to teach them how to bake a cake," he told you before finishing his beer and setting down the bottle. "That's sexy," you said, surprising yourself and Bradley. But you didn't regret saying it. Not one bit. Because Bradley's cheeks flushed pink, and your eyes were drawn to his scars that you were itching to touch.  A startled laugh escaped his lips. "You think so?" "Yeah," you said, nodding your head fervently. Bradley shifted closer to you, and you noticed that Jake was nowhere to be found.  ---------------------------------------

Bradley liked you. A lot. You were absolutely gorgeous to look at, but you were also smart and funny and interesting. The more he asked you about yourself, the more interested he was.  You told him about school and your family and how much you loved going to the beach. And now you were so close to him, you were tracing his watch band with your fingers while you talked.  "I think it's sweet that you used to knit with your grandma. Mine is practically a professional bingo player, she wins almost every week. And she's really cocky about it too," you said, and Bradley laughed. "She is! She likes to gloat about it when she plays shuffleboard." "She sounds fun," he told you. "And just so you know, I'm pretty good at bingo, and grandmas love me." "I'll bet they do." You actually giggled. He was making you giggle. God, he didn't want this night to end. He was trying to think of a way to ask you out, without making it awkward for you or Jake. "So what kind of cake are you baking on Wednesday?" you asked him playfully.  "Not sure yet, but I was thinking about chocolate. You wanna come over and help?" Bradley couldn't explain it, but the idea of you helping him with the baking project had him excited. "You could stay and hang out afterwards. Maybe we could watch a movie together and have some of the cake?" "Are you asking me on a date while I'm technically still on a date with Jake?" you asked him with a grin. "Oh, your date with Jake ended a good thirty minutes ago," he informed you with a very serious look. "Now you're on a first date with me. You having fun?" You started laughing and looked away as your cheeks flushed. "A lot of fun, actually. I like you. You had me at youth mentor and really sealed the deal when you offered to feed me chocolate cake." Bradley couldn't stop smiling. "Can I get your phone number?" "Yes," you replied, and Bradley noticed you and he were standing so close now, your bodies were practically touching.  He watched you type your name and number into his phone as he asked, "You'll come over on Wednesday then? For our second date?" "Yes," you replied, handing his phone back to him with a smirk, but your lips were twitching like you wanted to laugh.  "Since we're going out now, is it cool if I kiss you?" Bradley asked with a smirk of his own. Your lips looked so soft, and Bradley really wanted to touch you.  You smiled up at him and said, "That was pretty smooth," before running your fingers along his scarred neck and up into his hair, pulling him closer.  Bradley leaned down until his lips met yours, and it was the perfect kiss. You were perfect for him. He put his hands around your waist and pulled you a little closer, kissing you a little deeper.  When you pulled back, you pressed your lips together. "Text me your address and I'll be there on Wednesday. For cake baking assistance and our second date." "I will. I can't wait to see you again," Bradley replied, and it was the truth. Bradley walked you to your car, and with one more sweet kiss you were gone. When Bradley went back inside to settle his tab, Jake approached him. "You stole my date," Jake drawled, shaking his head but smiling. Bradley just grinned at Hangman. "It's pretty funny when you think about how she completely ditched you for me. Maybe I'll let you give a speech about it at the wedding."

--------------------------------------

SO FLUFFY! Thanks for reading!

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[brittscafe]

Yuji Itadori Headcanons

Synopsis: SFW and NSFW headcanons. Yuji Itadori x female reader.

I beg of y'all to listen to Being Alive by Stephen Sondheim while reading this bc it almost made me cry when writing this 😭

SFW:

Yuji being a green flag? Babe, he's the whole damn forest.

Calls you pretty girl.

Adores it when he's playing video games and you sit in his lap, wrapping your arms around him.

Yuji promises he'll be done soon and you eventually fall asleep, your head resting on his shoulder.

Yuji will stop anything he's doing and just sit there, gently rubbing your back and holding you.

Yuji loves physical touch so freaking much.

He'll wrap you up in a blanket and cuddle with you in bed all day long.

When Yuji needs your attention, he'll ask for cuddles or text you.

You'll give him good luck kisses and they encourage him so much before going out into the battlefield.

His smiles are so precious and they give you butterflies.

His kisses are gentle, but he can become impatient. He'll hold your face his his hands, giving you long, slow kisses.

Yuji would rather pass out thanks top kissing.

Yuji is so romantic and gentle.

He'll walk on the side that closer to the street and hold your hand, tugging you away from the side where the cars are flying by.

There's no need to ask Yuji to hold your heavy bags because he's already grabbing them before you even can.

He always is watching you and asking if you're okay/ comfortable.

Yuji doesn't realize how cute and attractive he really is.

Especially, when he comes out of the shower, wet dripping from his pink hair and a towel hanging so dangerously low on his hips.

Whenever he texts you, he always uses way too much emojis and that brings a smile to your face.

The way he says your name makes your heart ram against your chest.

He's calling out to you with a tender voice that's almost begging and needy for attention.

Yuji could listen to you for hours, he never gets tired of hearing your voice.

Yuji makes you laugh to point where your chest hurts and your cheeks are burning and flustered.

He craves any type of hugs; bear hugs, side hugs, hugs from behind, etc.

He never knows what kind of gifts to buy you for Christmas or your birthday, so he'll take you shopping and will grab random things asking your opinion on them.

Always expresses how much he misses you while pressing kisses on your cheek.

He's just excited to be with you.

NSFW:

AHHHHh, if you sit on Yuji's lap, he just cannot help himself.

Make-out sessions on his lap, where you grind against him and feel his cock grow hard in his boxers.

When you wrap your legs around his waist, he's already gone.

Especially if you start to kiss his neck, right underneath his ear or start nibbling on his earlobe.

Yuji's body becomes flustered and you'll giggle, playing with his soft pink hair.

His hands drift down your body to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Yuji will groan into your mouth, praises spilling from his mouth that are so needy.

He compliments you all the time, calling you pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, whatever comes to his mind.

Yuji likes it when you ride him, feeling your plush walls clamp around his.

He really enjoys it when you take control, leaving tiny red marks all his neck and chest.

Yuji is super soft and gentle when it comes to sex.

His number one is hurting you, so he'll never do anything that could possibly do that.

He loves to take his time in between your thighs, using his tongue and fingers to pleasure you in insane ways.

Yuji would never ask you to pleasure him, he's really never thought of his own pleasure.

He definitely whimpers and groans as your hand runs up and down the shaft of his length.

He'll say how pretty you look on your knees.

Yuji is obsessed with your ass, squeezing it and his fingers melting into your flesh.

Yuji can get nervous during the act and you sometimes have to reassure him.

His cheeks fluster as he drives his hips forward, sinking his cock back inside of you and hearing your sweet moans float in the air.

He whispers soft praises and compliments into your ear, making your body tingle.

His touch is so gentle.

His pace is slow and sensual, filling you up with pleasure.

Yuji can be serious or he can be cracking jokes to make you feel better or make him less nervous.

AFTER CARE IS A 10000000 OUT OF 10.

Yuji will take his time, cleaning you up and running his hands over your body.

He loves the way your skin glides in his hands.

Yuji loves to watch you afterwards, his knuckles running up and down your bare side.

He'll stay awake long after your asleep, admiring how your pretty your face is.

Yuji loves to kiss your cheek before he falls asleep.