paper animation made for helena - my chemical romance 🌟 with sound
Absolute peak
i don't do bad sauce passes
Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Monterey Bay Aquarium
cherry valley forever

YOU ARE THE REASON
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz

ellievsbear
DEAR READER
trying on a metaphor
ojovivo

Kaledo Art

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Bahrain

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bahrain
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

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seen from Poland

seen from Italy
@capriisunnn
paper animation made for helena - my chemical romance 🌟 with sound
Absolute peak

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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COCKY!ROMAN X FREAK!READER
smau/text fic - when toxic meets toxic - possesivness - producer!reader - jealousy - competitivness - when two crazy people are in love - freaks
masterlist taglist
⏭
CHAPTER ONE: "She's Crazy, But She's Mine"
social media!
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆
YOURUSERNAME POSTED!
♫ Partynextdoor ⋅ C h e e r s
Liked by Rommulas, partynextdoor, and 103.2K others
prod this btw
View all 94K comments
user: no wayyyy
user: music god
partynextdoor: 'preciate liked by author
⤻ Yourusername: anytime Mr. nextdoor
⤻ user: i'm cryingg
⤻ user: she's so funny
⤻ user: stop d riding
Rommulas: come to the stu w me baby
⤻ Yourusername: no, i'm mad at you
⤻ Rommulas: literally why
⤻ user: mama n dada fighting
⤻ user: they always r
user: pretty baby
user: can't keep my eyes off u
⤻ user: grown man btw
⤻ user: and??
⤻ user: roman ain't media trained, watch it liked by author
2hollis: when u gonna prod w me?
⤻ Yourusername: when ur bf apologises
⤻ Rommulas: I didn't do anything
⤻ 2hollis: just apologise man
⤻ user: LMAOO
⤻ user: got hollis involved now
⤻ user: why we skipping over what she said
⤻ user: "when your bf apologises" i'm crying
⤻ user: he responded with no hesitation too
⤻ user: romllis confirmed
Rommulas: ur pretty
⤻ Yourusername: knew that
⤻ Rommulas: woman.
⤻ user: I hope they never stop bringing their problems to the internet
⤻ user: no me too
⤻ user: peak entertainment
user: every song y/n prods is a banger
ROMMULAS POSTED!
♫ Stwo, Jeremih ⋅ Neither Do I
Liked by 2hollis, Nate_sib, and 79K others
don't look mad to me
View all 58K comments
user: oh shittt
user: clipped her ass
⤻ user: prop a old pic
⤻ user: that's what i was thinking
Yourusername: this why I get more likes than you
⤻ Rommulas: talk all you want, still came running to my bed
⤻ Yourusername: all u good for
⤻ Rommulas: then get out
⤻ user: woah wtf
⤻ user: they lowk toxic asf
⤻ user: you must be new here
⤻ user: no deadass bc this is a regular tuesday LMAO
⤻ user: k but still.. why u talking to ur own gf like that
⤻ user: they mostly trollin
⤻ user: they love eachother liked by author
⤻ Yourusername: ugh
user: I was off my phone for an hour and i missed another y/n x roman insta brawl
⤻ user: lock in
⤻ user: i have their notification on for ts
⤻ user: thats smart
⤻ user: im soo doing this
user: roman i can treat u better
user: those pics criminal
user: music whenn
Yourusername: song choice?
⤻ Rommulas: familiar?
⤻ Yourusername: yeah. we just fucked to it. liked by author
⤻ user: BROO
⤻ user: delete this, for my mental health
⤻ user: new gens today omfg
⤻ user: she's being calm
⤻ user: it's the twt peeps infultraiting insta
⤻ user: fuck ur right
Nate_sib: can ya'll get ur shit together and come to the stu
⤻ Yourusername: I don't like ur tone
⤻ Rommulas: yeah watch it nate
⤻ Nate_sib: nvm, stay home.
⤻ Yourusername: we otw
YOURUSERNAME POSTED!
♫ Miguel ⋅ Vixen
Liked by Rommulas, Gabbriette, 2hollis, and 98.2K others
still my man so watch it
View all 76K comments
user: mama
user: love 2 see this!
gabbriette: ur lethal liked by author
⤻ Yourusername: my dove
user: I don't get the hype on this girl tbh
⤻ user: BITCH
⤻ user: how?? genuine question
⤻ user: she's everything and more
user: she glowing
⤻ user: I think we know why
⤻ user: LMAOO
⤻ user: she gotta stop spreading they business
⤻ user: DON'T SAY THAT
⤻ user: they give me life
⤻ user: i'd die if they stopped
⤻ user: they feed a nosy persons dreams
2hollis: @rommulas thx for apologising, finally getting my y/n collab
⤻ Yourusername: he didn't apologise btw
⤻ Rommulas: I did in theory
⤻ user: whadatmean
user: SNIPPIT PLS
⤻ Nate_sib: just know she going crazy rn liked by author
user: roman n y/n the cutest ever
⤻ user: i'm too parasocial for this
⤻ user: ... atleast ur aware !!
user: girl u can't handle him
⤻ Yourusername: was handelling him pretty good an hour ago
⤻ user: RIGHT
⤻ user: r they both not media trained
⤻ user: not for long
user: weren't they JUST fighting??
⤻ user: yeah she crazy
⤻ Rommulas: crazy and mine liked by author
⤻ Yourusername: ily baby
⤻ Rommulas: ilym
⤻ user: SEE?? THEY LOVE EACHOTHER
user: mann they made up
⤻ user: now we gotta wait for next time
⤻ user: roman if u can hear me, piss her off again!!
⤻ user: PREACH!!
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆
Taglist! @unicornfairysparkle69 @2bun22 @jjscoquette @missmodelsexx @sophi-ii @qiyokuliife @sacrfcialambbb @angelverse222 @honeyperched @2romllis @natesibsdih @luvvrafey @ratspo3 @2krush22 @sweet2sin @sippingonsin @romansbbg @envious3
Acts of Science—or Not ⋆˙⟡ S.Ishigami
A/n: I had so much fun writing this, especially the last two scenes. I hope Senku isn't oc. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE READ IT WHILE LISTENING TO LOVE (wave to earth). SYNOPSIS: For years, you’ve thought that Senku Ishigami’s actions were for efficiency, logic, and science. You dismissed any ideas that suggested otherwise. Because, for you, that was just how Senku was. Until one handmade lip stain forces you to question the gestures you grew to normalize. They were just acts of science, right? TAGS: fluff, fluff, and more fluff. WC: 4177
The first person to vocally point it out was Yuzuriha. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and bewilderment. You nearly laughed in disbelief.
Because from your perspective, what she was saying barely made any sense. This was the Senku Ishigami she was talking about. The science-obsessed boy who approached everything in life with logic.
“You're telling me that's…normal?” She gestured at the small milk carton in your hands that Senku gave you minutes ago.
You nodded casually while sipping. “Yeah, it's just milk.”
hugo will surely meet you again, it’s fate !
your trip to france was in the middle of summer.
the hot june sun was beating down on your back, and your feet were dead from the tens of thousands of steps from that day. you were only two days in out of your three month long trip—if this was how it was going to be the entire time, you were truly going to die.
your eyes were glued to the tiles on the streets, not realizing you had bumped into someone until you felt a dull pain on your head. “oh shit—i’m so sorry.” you stammered, phone and earbud case falling out of your pockets.
you groaned, crouching down to reach for your dropped items, but someone handed them to you before you could even blink. you glanced up, meeting deep burgundy—nearly black—eyes. “thank you.” you met messy and long maroon hair and a deadpan expression.
“i’m in love with you.”
you nearly choked, blinking rapidly at the words that had just exited the redhead’s mouth. yet he still looked as if this was just another day in the office, expression unchanging. your entire face burned, eyes wide. passerby probably didn’t know you were going through every single chemical reaction possible internally.
“oh, uh, i, um, what?” you asked, mind malfunctioning. you were still crouching down awkwardly, as was the stranger. yes, the stranger. you had no idea who the hell this guy was, nor did you know his age or his name or anything about him.
you stood up stiffly, and the stranger did as well, wind blowing in his maroon hair perfectly. he looked like a model. “as i said, i’m in love with you.” his gaze was observant, quietly unraveling every feature of yours, every inch of your body. yet there was a tiny glimmer in his eye that told you this was more than just logic.
love at first sight, maybe? cute, but you weren’t interested. you were here for three months, and you were here to lock in (to eat all of the french pastries). plus, you had to go home anyway. you didn’t want heartbreak. “no thanks, i’m not interested, sorry.”
he raised an eyebrow. how the hell is this surprising to him? “oh, i see.” you almost let out a sigh of relief; maybe he’ll back off now. then you could forget this hot, tall, nice guy you met in france randomly.
“guess i’ll have to try harder to convince you then.”
excuse you?
your jaw went slack—how the hell were you supposed to respond to this? “no, genuinely, i don’t think you understand. i’m a tourist. i’m here for three months and i’m gone.” your french wasn’t perfect, but hopefully, you got the message across. “plus, i don’t know you. like, at all.”
at that point, a few passerby stopped to stare, noticing your discomfort. the stranger tilted his head. “i’m vivien hugo. i’m seventeen, a member of the french u20 football team, and i currently play for pxg’s u20 team, though i’ll be transferring to play for arsenal soon.”
so this guy was famous as well? and likely rich? the thought of going home was getting farther by the minute with hugo in front of you.
“and i’m also your future husband, so i suppose it is important for you to know me better.” goddamnit, did this guy have any friends growing up? you were already red in your cheeks, but at his comment, your entire face was probably redder than his hair.
“sure, buddy. whatever you say.” you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows. “nice to meet you hugo. you live around here or something?” you were practically the same age, but since he was a pro player, he probably had his own living quarters.
“i do. i’m guessing you stay at a hotel?” he asked. you nodded.
“i’m not telling you which one.”
“i wasn’t interested in knowing anyway. we’ll meet again even without conventionally necessary information.
this guy was pissing you off. “alright. see you then, hugo.” paris was a city with far too many people for you both to meet again. that’d be ridiculous. with that, you turned your back on him and walked away.
of course, you just had to be wrong.
because when you left your hotel just two days later, your head ended up making impact with yet someone yet again. your earbud case and phone ended up falling out of your pockets again.
“i’m so sor—wait,” your eyes widened, mouth opening wide. “hugo?!” no way. there was absolutely no way such a coincidence could ever exist. and yet you were met with his familiar burgundy hair.
“oh, you’re staying at this hotel. my apartment complex is actually right next to it.” he pointed at the building next door, which you hadn’t even realized was an apartment complex until he said so. no fucking way.
“guess we’re fated after all. not that i doubted it in the first place.” hugo stated, picking up your case and phone casually.
“oh my days,” you breathed. “how?” you hated how steady his gaze was while you were having a meltdown. this guy, this creep, was stuck around you now!
“destiny.”
“not a good reason…”
“you can choose not to believe it, but we’re fated for each other.” hugo replied. “i was actually looking for you, but i suppose destiny decided to be kind and drop you right in front of me.”
you pressed your lips into a thin line. “okay, what is it?”
“you’re traveling alone, i assume. you’re also only here for three months, so i was just thinking that you might need a guide. i only have practice for a few hours five days a week anyway. it doesn’t matter to me.” hugo tilted his head.
“you want me to accept a stranger’s offer?” you asked. “sorry, i don’t have the survival instincts of a walnut. i barely know you.”
“it’s your decision. but just so you know, i am a celebrity by technicality. i have a reputation to uphold. i can’t just kidnap you or mistreat you. that’d be bad for the both of us.” hugo said. you had to admit, he did have logic in his argument. “again, your choice.”
your budget didn’t allow you to find a tour guide, so this was really your best shot. and despite stranger danger, you had to admit that your gut and instinct really sensed noting off about hugo.
“fine.” you sighed. “sure. i’ll do it. you can be my tour guide or my helper or whatever you wanna call it.”
“that’s a deal.”
you hated to admit it, but vivien was good company.
he was blunt and could be preachy at times, but the thing was that he was completely aware of the times he was being annoying…and he completely owned his it as well. you had to admit, he was pretty funny, even if his humor was unintentional most of the time.
when the final day came, vivien decided to bring you on a walk. it was the evening of a weekday, and the park was quiet. the sun was setting softly, and the loudest noise was a small breeze and crickets.
you sat on a swing, meanwhile vivien stood against the swing’s metal beam. you didn’t want to speak. what the hell were you supposed to say to him? you were probably never going to see him ever again.
“well?” vivien began.
“what do you mean, ‘well?’” you asked. he looked at you as if you got 1+1 wrong.
“do you love me?” he asked. you choked on air. “i told you when we first met that i was in love with you. that hasn’t changed, not at all. do you love me back?”
your cheeks dusted pink. “i, well,” you did. you loved him, definitely more than just a crush would ever account for. he was practically your only non-digital communication for the past three months.
but this was bound to end.
and you didn’t want to leave.
you didn’t answer, instead standing up from the swing and walking towards him. when you were in front of vivien, he tilted his head—which was perfect for what you were about to do next.
because your hands cupped both of his cheeks, and you brought his lips to yours without hesitation.
vivien reacted within milliseconds, bringing his hands to your waist and only pulling away to catch for his breath. his cheeks were scarlet, his mouth open for air, and pupils dilated, this was the most emotional you’d ever seen vivien.
and he was so, utterly, completely in love.
“stay here,” he whispered. “just stay with me. i can cover costs for everything. i’ll do anything for you if you just don’t leave.” his gaze softened. “marry me if you need to. just don’t go.”
a bitter smile made its way onto your face. “vivien,” you grazed your thumb across his cheek. “i wish i could, but you know, i’ve got a life to live. and i’ve got senior year waiting for me back home, and graduation, and my friends, and i’ve got so much ahead of me. i love you, vivien. i really do. but this was never meant to last long anyway. if someday we meet again, but in a place where we could be together for longer, i promise i’ll marry you.”
you didn’t expect to be met with dejection, and that wasn’t what you received in the least. because vivien looked more determined than ever.
“that’s a promise. no take backs.”
you kissed his cheek. “no take backs.”
even two years later, you can still vividly remember your plane ride home.
you didn’t cry in front of vivien. you forced yourself not to, not when he dropped you off at the airport or when he stayed with you all the way until you entered security check and he had to leave.
but you were absolutely bawling your eyes out on the plane ride. and it was pathetic, to get so emotional over a 3-month summer situationship over a boy you’d probably never see again.
but there was just something about vivien that you couldn’t get over.
senior year went and left faster than your previous summer. midterms, finals, winter break, midterms, ap testing, sat, act, finals, graduation.
the next summer just wasn’t the same without vivien. rather than go out every day and enjoy the sun, you instead rotted in bed and just scrolled on social media. you shouldn’t be so hung up over him. you shouldn’t even remember him.
yet you did.
you applied to 12 colleges, all within your home country except for one: a university in london.
though i’ll be transferring to play for arsenal soon.
you still remembered vivien’s words. you didn’t want to search him up; you didn’t want to see him without being able to love him. but if there was even the slightest chance that you could get into that university in london, then maybe, just maybe, fate was real.
the university in london was the only one you were accepted into.
so you packed your bags and left. only your freshman year of college was just lonely. you didn’t see vivien. not a single time. no hearing his name in the streets, no seeing him on billboards, nothing. and sure, you kept your grades up, but you were in an entirely different country with no friends.
even though your college was impossibly close to the arsenal headquarters, you were never once able to get tickets to any matches. they just sold out too quickly. football fans were scary.
you didn’t return home for the summer between freshman and sophomore year of college.
your fate was determined in the middle of summer.
the hot june sun was beating down on your back, and your feet were dead from the tens of thousands of steps from that day. you were only two days in out of your three month long summer break—if this was how it was going to be the entire time, you were truly going to die.
your eyes were glued to the tiles on the streets, not realizing you had bumped into someone until you felt a dull pain on your head. “oh shit—i’m so sor—“
this scene felt strangely familiar.
when you looked up, every single one of your dreams manifested.
because vivien hugo looked at you as if he saw an angel, and your earbud case and phone were the prayers that led him to you.
“i finally found you.”
© 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐢.
▶︎•၊၊||၊|။|||||။၊|။• this tiktok. holy invisible string theory…my girl looks SO in love on slide 3 omg
𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝-𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬!
@tookertherook
Don't Fan the Flames (...Or Do) | Part I: "And Besides, My Reputation's on the Line"
5.4k words . . .
title from: Fall Out Boy - I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)
summary: Mikey way loathes you. So, in turn, you despise him just as much. However, his hate had morphed into something else; something neither of you wanted to admit. What you both thought was a battle of ego, turned out to be a battle of earning each other's attention. (A battle in which both of you lose...)
tags: completely gender neutral reader, reader can be afab or amab, oral sex, car sex, warped tour (yeah...), mikey way x reader, mcr x reader, smut, nsfw, brat taming, hate fuck, mutual feelings, alcohol, semi-drunk sex (still consensual dw), overstimulation, whimpering, begging, bandom, porn with plot, use of y/n (unfortunately)
a/n: ITS FINALLY OUT. notice how this one actually had a word count unlike the recent stuff i've been posting (guys if i have a word count on a fic it means i actually wrote it in a separate software and didn't just type shit out on tumblr and called it a day). ik i had a poll for determining whether reader would be afab or gn, but it came out as 50/50. i went with gn, so there's no use of any gendered pronouns, and no descriptions of reader's specific sex,, meaning that this could be applicable to both afab and amab people!! i was gonna proofread this, but i am so tired and i just wanna post it at this point. i'm probably gonna come back to edit it though. also, i initially wrote this to be prorev tour, until i realized mikey wasn't there for the majority of it. SO, i switched it to warped. but again, i have NOT proofread, so if theres mention of prorev.. uh... no there isnt....
ENJOY!!!!

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𓂃 ⭒ Megumi wants to wait until you are both adults
“Not even a blowjob?” you pout, leaning into his shoulder.
Megumi sighs, the kind of long, resigned sound that says he’s already been through this conversation in his head a hundred times before.
“Yes… even that.”
You groan dramatically, throwing your head back against the couch. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m responsible,” he corrects, deadpan, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t look at you right away, eyes fixed on the muted TV light flickering across the room. “We’re not old enough for that kind of stuff. It’s—” he pauses, brow tightening, “—inappropriate.”
His voice carries that quiet seriousness that’s so him. The same tone he uses when explaining a curse technique or when he thinks you’re about to do something reckless. You can tell he’s set on this—not out of coldness, but because he really believes it’s the right thing to do.
You nudge his arm with your knee, half teasing, half earnest. “What about kisses?”
That gets his attention. His eyes finally meet yours, dark and steady. Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders soften. “I guess those are fine,” he mutters.
You grin, already scooting closer. “Fine enough for one right now?”
Megumi lets out another sigh—this one softer, almost fond—and leans down just enough so your lips meet. It’s slow and warm and cautious, everything unspoken hanging between you.
“See?” you whisper, smiling. “Nothing inappropriate about that.”
He brushes his thumb against your cheek, eyes half-lidded. “Let’s just keep it that way,” he says quietly. But the way his lips linger near yours…
Over the next few years, it turned out to be a lot harder for Megumi than he expected.
You really had believed him back then every word about waiting, about being “responsible,” about things being inappropriate for your age. You’d agreed, because it made sense, because you loved how seriously he took things.
But what Megumi didn’t account for was how that trust, that comfort of knowing he’d never cross a line, made you feel safe enough to get comfortable… maybe a little too comfortable.
The shorts got shorter. The sleepovers started happening more often. Sometimes you’d climb into his bed without thinking, hair messy, wearing an oversized shirt and little else, stretching out beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was until he’d catch your thigh brushing his or notice the steady rise and fall of your breathing, and suddenly all that quiet composure would start to crack.
He told himself it was fine. You weren’t doing anything wrong. You still had those same soft, innocent smiles, still fell asleep tangled in the blankets before midnight. It was just that he wasn’t as unaffected as he used to be.
He’d thought you’d be the one struggling with waiting. Turns out, it’s Megumi who lies awake longer these nights trying to remember why “inappropriate” had ever sounded so simple.
It wasn’t just about rules anymore. Somewhere along the way, things began to change quietly, naturally, almost without either of you noticing.
Megumi started to feel it in the smallest of moments: the way your voice softened when you said his name, or how your hand lingered on his arm just a moment too long. Sometimes, when you leaned in close enough that your breath brushed his neck, he’d forget how to breathe entirely.
You never did anything overtly bold, but you didn’t have to. The warmth of your skin when your legs touched beneath the blankets, the soft scent of your shampoo, the way your shirt would slip off one shoulder while you read beside him.
it all piled up, until every inch of space between you felt alive with something unsaid.
He still told himself that waiting was the right thing. That it mattered. But lately, it wasn’t easy to rest his hand beside yours without his pulse quickening, or to look at you too long without his thoughts wandering somewhere he shouldn’t let them go.
You could tell he was fraying at the edges, even if he’d never admit it. When you caught his eyes lingering, you almost asked him if he still thought it was “inappropriate.” But you didn’t. You just smiled, leaned a little closer, and let the silence balance between you
His eighteenth birthday came quietly, just like him. A small dinner with Yuji, Nobara, and you, nothing elaborate, just laughter, a cake Nobara nearly dropped, and the warmth of being surrounded by people who had grown up together through too much.
But all night, Megumi couldn’t stop looking at you.
You’d done nothing different—just worn that soft sweater he always liked, hair tied up loosely—but it was enough to undo him in small ways he tried not to show. Every time you smiled across the table, every time your knee brushed his under it, something tightened in his chest.
Later, when everyone had gone to bed or disappeared into separate rooms, you were lying on your stomach, scrolling on your phone. He walked in quietly, the floor creaking just enough to catch your attention. Before you could say anything, he lay down on top of you, his weight warm against your back.
“Megumi—” you started, laughing when his breath brushed your neck.
Then he kissed you there—just a soft press, almost shy—and you froze for a second before your laughter melted into something quieter.
He lifted himself just enough to turn you onto your back, his eyes searching yours before his lips met yours again. This time it wasn’t gentle. It was deeper… slower… certain. You felt his heartbeat racing, his hand trembling slightly against your waist.
It wasn’t unusual for him to react like that—he’d always been affectionate in his own careful way—but what was unusual was that he didn’t stop right away. For a moment, he allowed himself to stay there, breathing you in, caught between control and something new.
Then, that familiar pull of restraint hit him like a wave. With a low sound—half frustration, half discipline—he pulled back completely, pressing his forehead to yours for a heartbeat, then standing up. No words. Just the sound of his footsteps leaving the room.
You didn’t go after him; you both knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. And somehow, that silence said everything.
Then came your eighteenth birthday.
Your eighteenth birthday came on a quiet night too, though everything felt different this time. Maybe it was the way Megumi couldn’t seem to relax, even when Yuji and Nobara were teasing you both about being “the old ones now.” Maybe it was the way his hand lingered against the small of your back when he passed behind you, how his eyes kept finding yours and then darting away like he was afraid to get caught.
By the time everyone had gone home, the air between you two felt thick with something neither of you could name.
You were sitting on the edge of his bed when he came in, hair still a little mussed from the shower, shirt loose at the collar. He stopped in front of you, looking down with that same mix of calm and uncertainty that always seemed to exist in him at once.
“Happy birthday,” he said softly.
You smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
He hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t trust himself to. His fingers twitched at his sides before he finally gave in to impulse and reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair off your face.
“Did you make a wish?” he asked.
You nodded, smiling faintly. “Maybe.”
“What was it?”
You tipped your head, pretending to think, even though you both knew you wouldn’t tell him. “If I say it, it won’t come true.”
He huffed a soft laugh, the kind that barely made it past his throat. Then he sat beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, your knees almost touching.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The clock on the nightstand ticked quietly. His eyes flicked to your lips, once, then away again and your pulse jumped.
“Megumi,” you said, barely above a whisper.
He looked at you then, really looked. Like he was searching for a sign, a word, anything to justify the way his hand slid to rest against your thigh, tentative but steady.
“It doesn’t feel wrong anymore… I hope,” you murmured.
He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath for years. “No,” he said, voice rough, quiet, “It doesn’t.”
When he kissed you this time, there was no hesitation
His mouth moved against yours slow, like he was memorizing the shape of it all over again.
One of his hands stayed on your thigh, thumb brushing lazy half circles over the inside seam of your shorts, warm through the thin cotton.
The other came up to cradle the side of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, holding you.
You shifted closer without really meaning to, knee sliding against his, and he made a low sound in the back of his throat—barely there, but enough to send heat curling low in your stomach.
When you finally parted—just enough to breathe—he didn’t go far. Forehead resting against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly, not mocking. Just noticing.
You let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “So are you.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead he kissed you again, softer this time, lips catching yours in little pulls and releases until your mouth parted on its own.
His tongue brushed yours, tentative at first, then deeper when you sighed into it, fingers curling into the front of his shirt.
The hand on your thigh slid higher, slow enough that you could stop him if you wanted. You didn’t. Your legs parted just a fraction and his palm settled fully against the warmth there, not pressing, just resting, like he was giving you time to feel how badly he wanted to touch more.
You broke the kiss to catch your breath, foreheads still touching. “Megumi…”
He hummed, low, waiting.
“Take them off,” you whispered.
His fingers paused, then hooked under the waistband of your shorts. He tugged gently, waiting for you to lift your hips before he slid them down your thighs, past your knees, letting them drop to the floor.
Cool air hit your skin and you shivered; his hand immediately returned, warmer now, cupping you through your underwear.
You reached for the hem of his shirt next, tugging it up. He helped you pull it off, muscles shifting under your palms as you ran your hands over his chest, his sides, feeling the way his breath hitched when your nails grazed lightly down his stomach.
When your fingers found the strings of his joggers he caught your wrist, not stopping you, just holding for a second. His eyes searched yours again, quieter this time.
“You sure?” he asked, voice rougher than before.
You nodded, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been sure for a long time.”
He exhaled through his nose, something almost like relief, then let go of your wrist. You worked the ties, and he lifted his hips so you could push the joggers and boxers down far enough. He kicked them off the rest of the way himself.
Then it was just his skin against your skin.
He pulled you into his lap carefully, your knees bracketing his hips, and for a long moment neither of you moved…just breathing, foreheads pressed together, feeling each other.
His cock rested warm and heavy against your inner thigh; you could feel how hard he was, how much he was trying not to rush.
His hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just under your ribs.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured.
You kissed him instead of answering and rocked your hips once, just enough to slide against him. He groaned softly into your mouth, fingers tightening on your waist.
You did it again, slower this time, dragging yourself along his length until the head nudged your clit through the damp cotton still between you. His head dropped to your shoulder, breath ragged against your neck.
“Fuck,” he whispered, almost to himself.
You smiled against his hair, reached down between you, and tugged your underwear to the side.
When you sank down onto him it was careful—despite the pain—until he was buried deep and you both went still, breathing hard.
He pressed a shaky kiss to your throat. “You okay?”
You nodded, fingers threading through his dark hair. “Yeah. Just… give me a second.”
He did. Just held you close, one arm wrapped around your lower back, the other hand cradling your face so he could kiss you again
When you finally rolled your hips, testing, he groaned low in his chest and matched your small, shallow thrusts that made your breath catch every time he bottomed out.
It stayed slow like that for a long while with no rush.
The pace stayed gentle for a while longer with your slow rolls of your hips meeting his careful upward thrusts.
The room was quiet except for your shared breathing and the soft, wet sounds your bodies made each time you sank down onto him fully
little noises that filled the space between you every time you lifted and slid back down.
His eyes flicked down between you, watching where you took him in, then back up to your face. The sight seemed to pull another low groan from him, and he pressed his thumb firm against your clit, circling in time with the slow grind.
You whimpered softly at the added pressure, and the next roll of your hips drew out an especially wet, filthy squelch that made you both freeze for half a second. His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging in just enough to leave the faintest sting.
His hands roamed now: one splayed wide across your lower back, guiding without forcing, the other sliding up to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your bra. His thumb brushed over the peak of your nipple once, twice, until your breath hitched and you arched into his touch.
You tugged the bar down your chest yourself, impatient suddenly, and let it sit on your rib cage.
The second his mouth found your collarbone you felt the shift in him—still careful, but hungrier. kisses trailed lower, pausing to suck softly at the swell of your breast before he closed his lips around your nipple. The wet heat of his tongue made you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair.
“Megumi—” It came out like a half-plea
He hummed against your skin, the vibration pulling another shiver out of you, then switched to the other side while his finger still played with your clit
You rocked harder without meaning to, and he groaned low against your chest
“Lie back,” you whispered.
He blinked up at you, dark lashes heavy, then nodded once.
You lifted off him carefully—both of you making small, involuntary sounds at the loss—and he let you guide him down until his shoulders hit the pillows.
The sight of him like that—hair messy across his forehead, lips swollen from kissing, chest rising and falling fast—made your stomach flip.
You straddled him again, this time facing him fully, and sank back down in one smooth glide. Deeper this time. His head tipped back, throat working on a quiet curse.
You set the pace now with slow lifts and drags that let you feel every inch of him.
His hands found your hips, just holding on like he needed the anchor. His thumbs pressed into the soft skin above your hipbones.
When your pace stuttered, he sat up suddenly, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against him.
The new angle made him hit something inside you that turned your next breath into a broken moan.
“There?” he murmured against your lips.
You could only nod, forehead pressed tight to his, noses brushing, breaths coming out hot and ragged against each other’s mouths.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close, dragging him in that last little bit until there was no space left between you.
Your bare chest rubbed against his with every move, nipples scraping over his skin, the friction sharp and hot, making you shiver each time your bodies slid together.
You moved with him, keeping him buried so deep that the base of his cock pressed against you every time you rolled forward.
You felt the warm, soft weight of his balls settle right up against your skin with each grind, shifting slightly, adding that extra press of fullness that made your stomach flutter low and hard.
Your thighs trembled around his hips, muscles jumping every time you rocked down. Your feet dug into the mattress, toes curling in the sheets as you tried to pull yourself even closer, chasing every bit of contact you could get.
His hands slid down from your waist, palms rough and warm as they cupped your ass, fingers spreading wide, digging in just enough to make you gasp softly.
Then he pulled you forward, harder, guiding your hips down deeper onto him with a firm, steady push.
The motion sank him even further inside, stretching you fuller, the thick base grinding right against your entrance while his balls pressed warmer, snugger against you.
Every time he tugged you in like that, the angle shifted just right, hitting deeper, making your walls flutter around him without warning.
You whimpered into his mouth, the sound swallowed as he rocked up to meet the next pull of the short, deep thrusts that never let him slip out far, just kept grinding him in tight circles inside you.
Your fingers curled at the back of his neck, nails scratching lightly into his skin as you clung to him.
His grip on your ass stayed strong, fingers kneading the soft flesh, spreading you open a little more with each push so you took every inch without resistance. The wet sounds between you grew louder with filthy squelches every time he forced your hips down and your bodies met completely.
“Megumi,” you managed, voice cracking, nails biting into his shoulders now.
He swallowed hard, eyes half‑shut, breath stuttering. “Yeah?” he rasped, voice low and rough. “I—mhh—feel good”
He just kept pulling you deeper with those firm hands on your ass, rocking his hips up in time so the head of him dragged over that spot inside again and again.
Your chest slid against his with every movement, nipples catching and scraping over his skin, the raw friction making your breath hitch, your thighs shaking harder as everything narrowed to the stretch of him filling you, the way his palms squeezed and guided you down harder, your feet pressing into the bed like you could force him even deeper, the slick heat where you were joined so completely.
Then it broke.
You came hard, a choked moan muffled into his neck as your walls clamped down around him in pulsing waves, squeezing him tight.
He groaned low, hips jerking once—twice—his fingers digging deeper into your ass as he pushed you down one last time and spilled inside you, arms locking tight around your back like he needed to hold on just as much as you did.
For a long minute after, neither of you moved. Just clung. Breathing hard against each other’s skin. Your arms stayed around his neck, holding him close, your chest still pressed to his as you tried to catch your breath. His hands stayed on your ass, softer now, thumbs stroking slow circles over the marks he’d left.
Eventually he pressed a slow, open kiss to the side of your neck.
“When did you become such a pro” he whispered, voice hoarse.
You smiled into his hair, fingers tracing lazy patterns down his spine.
“Don’t get mad ” you said despite still trying to catch your breath . “But those fanfics you told me to stop reading helped ”
“ what “
Idk what to put here so HAPPT BIRTHDAY?
Your boyfriend doesn’t know the difference between a pocket pussy and his loving girlfriend.
Yuji had the stamina of a a tiger in heat, at first, you thought you could handle it, but my goodness that boy could fuck for hours on end and still want round 30. Before you started dating, Todo bought him a pocket pussy, as a gag gift really, Yuji was going to just throw it away, but his curiosity got the better of him. He really just wondered what it would feel like. “I’ll try it once, then throw it away.” He’d tell himself, because he knew he’d get addicted if he kept it any longer, he kept it for that night, then another night, then another night, til he officially had a spot for it, where’d he’d taking it out at night and use it for at least an hour, (maybe two, if it was a long day.) once you guys did start dating, he did eventually throw it away, he had you now, why would he need a pocket pussy, so instead, he started using you like his pocket pussy.
And honestly, you weren’t complaining, he’d come over to your apartment after a mission, and would head straight to your, where you’d probably be laying down, watching anime. “Hi, baby!” You’d exclaim, not knowing that you were about to be absolutely wrecked. Hands on your hips, pulling you back on his cock as he’d whisper in your ear, things like “fuck, baby, you’re milking my fucking balls.” Or “yes, baby, drain my fucking balls!” As he was hunched over your back, fucking like dogs in heat. Your boyfriend just really didn’t understand the difference between you and a pocket pussy.
teaching zanka how to kiss… ♥︎
at first glance, it was easy to assume zanka nijiku had it all going for him. his demeanour radiated it like steady heat; he regarded the world with sure eyes, walked without an ounce of uncertainty in his stance. he slunk about the ground with the air of something ethereal.
such reasoning is why you were so deeply shocked to find out that, when it came to romance, he was absolutely clueless. if the topic were in focus, that calm stride morphed into that of a fawn on shaking legs; a bird cast to sea; something in a new world it had never dared to step foot on before. like his body was not fit for it. like he had never hoped he would be.
it came up once or twice—mostly when riyo took it upon herself to host another party and, furthermore, you all managed to convince zanka a drink would not rot him from the inside out within a week after consumption. when he got that hazy look in his eyes and his shoulders loosened just a bit, his inhibitions lowered and his mind, for once, empty, things would slip. someone would make a comment about their girlfriend and say you get it, right? and zanka would simply reply nah, never been there—or some or the other—it became apparent.
tonight was one of those nights. however, you happened to be alone with him, this time; the both of you got sick of the upbeat music and constant chatter quite promptly and decided to slip away to zanka’s room. it was momentarily silent as you sat parallel on his bed.
“…so you’ve really never kissed anyone? not even once?”
a huff. his next words came out slurred at the edges, “why would I have lied about it the first time?”
“your puritan tendencies, of course.”
“shut the hell up.”
another beat of that brief quiet; the faint thrum of bass from the mess hall, the whisper of breath, and presence.
“I could teach you,” you said after mild hesitation, a small smirk playing at your lips (because if you made it lighthearted, he would never guess that you really wanted to kiss him, period, right?).
his eyes widened, tones of pink already crawling up his neck and warming his ears. no way. no fucking way you had just said that—the audacity. he was suddenly and undeniably struck by the memory of every night he had spent imagining such an act—the warmth of your mouth, the thought of your hands in his hair, how your breath would feel being taken by him—though he never thought you would offer it. it felt like, even if he did not admit it, his every fantasy was being exploited. “yer’ fucking kidding.”
you huffed a gentle laugh, cocking your head. “no. it’d just make sense to be me, of all people, wouldn’t it? we’re buddies. you can trust me.”
his brows creased slightly—his face was all red now, he was sure. he could deny it all he wished, but his want for you bled from inside and into the shades of his cheeks. “I- are you-“ a slow breath, both to calm his heartbeat and to give him a moment to articulate a full sentence through his embarrassment. perhaps if this were any normal moment (or you were literally anyone else), he would have gotten up and left entirely. however, zanka was a bit tipsy and a lot in love with you, so he murmured, “I guess.”
a million promises you were serious and that you would not tell anyone later, you had him close enough that you felt every exhale puff against your face. he was warm. he played nonchalant, but the way his throat clicked when he swallowed overruled his outward presentation.
“keep your mouth… soft. and loosen up. you’re stiff as a board, zan.”
he was dizzy—alcohol, frazzle, it was all the same now.
then, you were kissing him. he sucked in a breath, the sound audible in the stillness of the room, freezing for a moment. slowly, ever so slowly, he sank into the gentle heat against his lips—as much as zanka could sink into anything, at least. his eyes fluttered shut, body curving ever so slightly toward yours while he sighed against you. one of your hands crawled up to his nape, the other settling over his racing heart. he was unsure what to do with his own hands; one lifted, then stopped midair, twitching, before he let it smooth over the curve of your waist. the other wrapped around your wrist at his chest.
his reciprocal efforts were clumsy, and he knew it—too clumsy to suit him. too clumsy to ease his mind. every sense was pummelled with your smothering proximity; the lowest part of his scalp tingled when your fingertips brushed it, and his breath was raising in speed with every soft movement of your lips. he was drowning here, and he knew—he knew you were taking it slow with him, but it was like one drop of water from you was a tsunami wreaking upon his poor heart.
your tongue gently coaxed his mouth open. he moaned—then immediately pulled back, eyes wide with humiliation and face set aflame. he brought one hand up to cover his face, childish as it was. his ring felt cold on his skin.
you giggled quietly. “you alright over there?”
he groaned. “fuck off.”
he eventually let his hand fall away, but still vehemently avoided any level of eye contact. this was a bad idea. as if he was not plagued by you enough already, now you had poured the sap of your heart down his very throat, and it was undoubtedly bound to take root within him until it was all that resided within the hollow of his ribcage.
you nibbled on your lower lip. “don’t be silly. don’t you… don’t ya wanna keep practicing?”
his fingers curled into his thigh. I shouldn’t.
yet, he still huffed and moved back over to your side of the bed.
sat down nd wrote this in one sitting because someone reblogged my old Teaching U How To Kiss drabble and I was like. omg. this but zanka and hes a loser WOOP WOOP DONT HURT EM NOW
@sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @xianji @cinnamxnangel @peachchae @dawnsoblivion @gl4di0lus @magpieka @flintskype @tofumiarchives @katmiauz @visforvicious @lulucidal
join a taglist.
real question is do we think zanka is a cum in his pants from kissing sort of guy.
cws // fem reader.
"W-Wait a second."
Zanka stutters out between sloppy kisses, his cheeks tinged pink and his pupils blown wide. He's burning up inside, and not just because you've got him pinned underneath you, your body heat sweltering as you move against him.
Your fingers are curled around his wrists that you've got pinned to the bed, and you keep his hips pinned down too as you straddle them. You've got an innocent little smile on your face as if you aren't actively trying to fucking kill him, and if he didn't like you so goddamn much he'd be angry — but it's you, his pretty beautiful amazing smart funny girlfriend who he thinks he's in love with but he's never been in love so he's not really sure how that feels but he'll be damned if he asks Enjin so the man can guffaw in his face. He loves the guy, but he's a real asshole.
"What're we waiting for, Zee? We're just kissing." You sing, immediately making yourself a dirty little liar as you roll your hips down against him—against his cock that's straining against his pants and leaking like a broken fucking faucet. He moans, heels of his feet digging into the mattress underneath him and his back arching. You feel so good--smell so good. "I know you like it. I can tell."
brother's best friend masterlist (completed)
summary: being the middle child is weird because why do all your brother's best friends all have a crush on you. jjk smau
cw: mndi, 18+, suggestive, lots of mentions of sex, alcohol and weed consumption, dark humor
megumi x reader & gojo x reader & yuta x reader
characters part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight part nine part ten part eleven part twelve
I can't believe it's over😭😭 the ending is so peak🥹

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Beware: Tamsy Manga Spoilers
Fanfic below!
Tags: [mlw]🌼[mdni]🌼[fluff]🌼[crack]🌼[friends to lovers]🌼[childhood best friends]🌼[slowburn]🌼[mutual pining]🌼[sprinkles of angst]🌼[eventual smut]🌼[multi-chapter]🌼[semi canon]🌼[fixing his life; one fic at a time]🌼[panty sniffing]🌼[masturbation]🌼[healthy family dynamics🩷]
Things I did to prepare for this fic:
1. i looked at friends-to-lovers on pinterest for 12 minutes.
2. i installed microsoft word.
3. i cleared 83mb to reinstall microsoft word
4. i created many, many, many banners, dividers and it was very hard to settle on an aesthetic, as well as titles.
5. i cleared space because microsoft word didn't wanna open.
6. i rued bill gates for a solid 8 minutes.
7. half of that 8 minutes was spent hating james patterson.
8. fuck you, james.
9. i had 2 drafts of the prologue.
10. i created a spotify playlist dedicated to making mark happy.
a/n: get ready, bitches. i have no idea how this ends but goddammit, i need to step up.
⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼 masterlist 🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 prologue 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 1 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 2 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 3 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 4 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 5 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 6 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 7 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌹 chapter 8 🌹
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 chapter 9 🌼
⋆⭒˚.⋆🪻 chapter 10 🪻
⋆⭒˚.⋆🌼 epilogue 🌼
🏵️taglist for this fic🏵️
@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420 ; @verysynical ; @kikiiguess ; @missam ; @luvvfromme ; @luvvcharxo ; @alma-ru3 ; @mxvoid26 ; @urfriendlyfrog ; @the-good-kooshe ; @troublesome-nara ; @secretaccountlol ; @syubseokie; @atanukileaf ; @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere ; @i-love-frensh-fries ; @lov3vivian ; @boyofroyo1 ; @tamaranblaze ; @supersecretxreadersideblog ; @etphonehome0623 ; @markgraysonlover ; @icanmeltanigloo ; @itzmeme ; @buckturd ;
@mxauthor ; @drifting-galaxies ; @lost-seraphiim ; @ntwolf69 ; @clearlycaffeinated-blog ; @well-this-is-just-awkward ; @inlovewhithafairytale ; @luvsxnsas ; @thoristhings ; @wartofart ; @d1nne ; @5pinda ; @stefanoiswithme ; @bloodyroryiambatmanduhnuhnuh ; @uulalah ; @momentomoribitch ; @lialovaaa ; @emmaitoshi ; @treeteaofversailles ; @icryat2 ; @a-shionye ; @oxymorondemon ; @dumbhxeredrose ; @pxrtalchopped
Just binge read this and omfg it's so gooooodddd🥹🥹🥹
im so yuutapilled rn im not even sorry
𝓒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄
─── ❨ 𝐚𝐝𝐣. ❩ a passionate longing for something lost :: the realisation that you are taken is seeping slowly in !
content ⸝⸝ rudo surebrec x gn . reader , zanka nijiku x gn. reader , established relationship , drabble , little hurt with no comfort , this was a request , 0.42wc 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒
“KEEP your eyes to yourself.” Enjin grumbled under his breath, a warning tone.
It's not like Rudo has been actively ignoring those hints and advices — he just doesn't get where it's coming from and why he is getting those sayings. So he continues, letting his eyes wander and follow your figure in the room. Hell—it's not just Enjin telling him that. Even Riyo, Gris, Follo and the entirety of the cleaners. Everyone tells him the same. But why? Can't a boy have his little crush on someone else?
"Rudo, do you wanna play with us?"
The boy doesn't hesitate, his head lifted itself and his eyes flew into your direction. "Sure." he nodded hastily and made his way to your group, eyes staying glued to your face. You always made sure he was included, always made sure he understood how the life is on the ground. He'll be forever grateful. For you, for this. But it's not just gratitude.
"C'mon, I'll show you how it works." you muttered under your breath and scooted closer, holding your cards with one hand.
Yes—Rudo was wearing that expression again. And Zanka isn't sure if he likes it. They're friends, of course they are. Of course. Yes. Friends.
"I can show him." Zanka chimed in, lips forming a thin line as soon as he noticed how stupid Rudo looked.
"No, I want to teach him." you insisted quickly.
"Wait—"
"Shush." there’s this blooming feeling in his chest, settled comfortably and nicely.
Oh, if only Rudo knew the horror.
Because days later, he could feel a burning stare that pierced right through his back whenever he sat or stood close to you. Maybe too close—yet Rudo can't help it if you're wrapping your arm around his shoulder so easy going. And that's also the moment he noticed the bracelet, adorned in a beautiful blue. Some words written on them yet he couldn't decipher them properly. "It's beautiful." Rudo blinked.
A hum left your lips as you removed your arm to show your wrist, to let him see the bracelet. "I think so too. My boyfriend gifted me this. I don't think I'll ever be able to take it off."
It came crashing down—the realisation.
Rudo stared. Your soft eyes as you admired the bracelet, how your lips curled into a smile no one could force out of you, the careful touches whenever your fingertips grazed the bracelet.
"By whom?" sweat formed on his neck, forcing himself to take a step back.
"Zanka." the way your smile brightened at the mention of his name.
"He's got a great taste." those words are bittersweet. And seconds later, another arm pulls him away—he allows himself to let his shoulders slump down.
"Told ya." Enjin whispered.
At least you're happy. And get treated right.
Pecks and whispers…
shugen x reader
tw: none just short fluff | w/c: 1.7k | an: First time ever writing for Shugen, so forgive my obvious awkwardness… (╥‸╥) I just need to step into my comfort zone! | for anon <3
𓂃 ོ☼𓂃
It is no secret that the second highest ranked asaemon is… emotional.
Extremely emotional. Though his feelings never interfere with his performance, the strongly feeling man can still slice heads from criminals, or even distant innocent ties.
Without hesitation.
Yet here he is now.
Hidden behind a large stone some distance from the asaemon compound’s training yard. His head rests in your lap, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as quiet sniffs are muffled by the fabric of your clothing and the soft hum of nature. Birds chirp, leaves shift in the breeze.
“Shugen…” you speak first, breaking the silence. One hand plays gently with his hair while the other rubs slow circles on his back. A small smile tugs at your lips. “It’s going to be fine.”
“I don’t question your ability,” he mutters, arms tightening around you for a brief moment.
This is so beautiful 😭😭❤️🩹❤️🩹

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Me patiently waiting for the Yuta fanfics to come in
(Or I’ll do it myself)
heian!sukuna vs his very very pregnant wife
your gait had started to resemble one of a penguin.
it wasn’t your fault really, carrying the king of curses’s spawn was no easy task.
but the fact still stood.
almost full term, your belly had grown round swollen with child, your cravings and moods heightened to very much their peak.
the worst of all were the body aches.
well it sufficed to say that your four-armed husband was not having it. the moment you came into his life he’d dismissed all other concubines, his eyes set on you. marriage ceremonies another right of passage long done and dusted.
“you have four arms my lord, why not put them to use?” you’d suggested one quiet evening.
so now here you lay with sukuna massaging your lower body.
seriously, he thought, is this what his reign of terror had succumbed to? as he rubbed his palm against your feet. your satisfied moans reached his ears, un-admittedly motivating him further in the act.
he’d do anything for you, if you’d only so ask.
finally relaxed, you twirl your hair with one finger and look over to the bowl of grapes set aside by the maids right next to your bed.
“my lord” you call sukuna and receive a hum in response.
“the grapes look delicious” you smile cheekily at him, eyes twinkling with mischief.
sukuna looks at you long and hard, amazed at your boldness. suggesting that he shall feed you, what are servants for then?
he opens his mouth, the motion as if to beckon a servant over but pauses when your face contorts into a pouty frown.
he knows what you want. and he abides.
two of his arms continue working on your foot and leg while the other two reach forward to pluck a grape and feed it to you. you lick your lips relishing the taste.
“it’s not for me, you know” you add “it’s for her”
“her?”
sukuna leans forward to wipe some grape juice off of the side of your face, with his hand-mouth which certainly never failed to amaze you.
“i have a hunch, that she’s a girl” you gesture towards your belly.
“it will be a boy” sukuna says, his tone final.
you pause, a hint of insecurity lacing your voice.
“what-what if it’s a girl?” you cringe when you hear your own voice crack.
silence. no remark from sukuna.
and then a low, very low grumble, almost missable for the untrained ear.
“i wouldn’t know what to do…”
however, you don’t miss it, “do explain,” you urge.
“a man, an..abomination like myself doesn’t deserve a daughter, i wouldn’t know what to do with myself or her” you feel a rush of such adoration flow through you at his sincere concern.
you’d assured him he would be a great father but he refused, stubborn as ever, never budging.
a month later when you welcomed a baby girl into the world, with the same raging hair as her father and a temper much like his own, no one not even you held onto her tighter than sukuna.
your husband, held your daughter like she was a petal, so fragile and precious, as he muttered curses towards the poor servants that were just trying to help and the mid-wife that got too close.
you could’ve sworn you saw a pearly sheen to his eyes, but gods forbid you kept that to yourself.
firefly; little bit of this, little bit of that ahh drabble i’m so sorry if this is bad #forgiveme