#and of course i've had other requests in the asks...

[bewitched-hours]

I wanted to ask if you could make more of the yandere Noli and 007n7 thing. Something like they got into a fight and they’re all just fighting like children or just anything!

I just love that au ^^

Gonna be honest- I don't think I remember which one you mean but I'll gladly make more of them? I'll just try to come up with something new and hope it works but it'd be great if you could use a link to it if you make a new request so I know what you're looking for because I've done a lot at this point with Noli and 007... And not just one with them as yanderes-

Let's say reader gets She/They?

You've learned not to question your circumstances anymore...

It all started out fine when you agreed to team up with Noli and 007n7. Hell, you were giddy to work with other exploiters and you guys helped cover each other's tracks to hide from admins.

You were quick friends and had your own little base for just you three. A place you were most proud of even though you'd do most of the decorating. They didn't really seem to care much as long as it wasn't an eye sore or one simple colour.

No, you combined all your guys' colours together to make the best decorative palette ever!

You weren't into decorating even half as much as you seemed when you all moved in together at first. But turns out you were actually pretty good at it.

You got comfortable... Perhaps too comfortable...

You were blinded by the bliss of this new life and the comfort of your new home made you ignorant to the fact you were basically isolated.

Sure, you were part of a trio that caused chaos so who would wanna be associated with you but you wouldn't even get so much as a chase with some poor fellow who saw you and could report you. It was almost boring how little fight there was for you but you shrugged it off as bad luck.

Of course you wouldn't know that you were trapped because you flew into the cage first.

You wouldn't know that they intentionally kept you away from prying eyes and planned out where to send you in your chaos to get you away from people subtly. In a way that wouldn't have you suspect a thing.

But you only needed to see the truth once. They needed luck everytime they hid the truth from you.

One slip up was all it took.

One mistakenly placed box was all you needed when you got home after a shopping trip in your disguise.

They weren't home for once and you figured they were off causing chaos somewhere else, only causing slight envy to rise in your chest as you wondered why they couldn't wait for you.

But slamming the door caused a box to lose balance in the messed up pile of packages and you could only groan as the fact you now had documents to pick up and put back.

Except it wasn't documents... It was plans.

Papers that were left in the trash pile that would detail things they've done to keep you to themselves without raising suspicion which made the cogs in your head click together.

They were head over heels for you but in a way that made you cringe just a bit. A messed up part of you wanted to see how far they'd go and before you knew it, you were sat with the plans on a coffee table and curled up on the couch whilst reading through their strategies.

You had to admit, they were smart for playing you like they did but you still felt betrayed and confused.

Why? Did they think it was fun? Did they worry you'd try to run? Maybe they thought you could betray them?

Ugh, the more you questioned it, the more you wanted to find them and just ask. You weren't even that upset over it because of the life they gave you but...

Actually, maybe you were a bit upset. What if they used this life to lure you further in? It wasn't like you regretted being part of this trio...

You were growing drowsy when you heard the click of the lock that made you jump back awake in seconds. They were back and there was no hiding anymore. You had to quickly gather your courage and confront them.

They had been joking around until they turned the corner to see you calmly get up, papers in hand and giving them a cautious look that was even worse than when you had first met them. And even back then you've been cautious because you had no choice but to assume the worst from them.

It made their smiles turn to slight frowns. Only for Noli to start smirking again. Though he didn't say anything.

"I'm not gonna scream. I'm not gonna pretend to really be upset or any of that shit." You started, refusing to act like some movie main character. "But I just want to know why. Why did you need any of these plans and why would I be worth such a hassle???"

Your confusion only seemed to amuse them as they stepped closer. You let them because their plans did mention not letting you be harmed.

"Would you believe us if we said you were divine?" Noli's teasing tone made you cringe at such words but you chuckled lightly. "What? Don't act like you're obsessed now..."

"But we are." 007's firm tone made your gut practically scream.

There was no way this was happening...

Stepping away from them, you dropped the papers and shook your head. "No no no- I'm not about to let my whole life be controlled-" You were chuckling nervously, though a blush crept over your face.

Were you enjoying this? Maybe. But it didn't stop them from teleporting behind you to hold you in a loving embrace that had you more confused than anything.

"You're not being controlled~ We're just making sure to set a fair ground between letting you be so beautifully chaotic and independent and guaranteeing you'll never want to leave." Noli held held you from the front while 007 stopped you from behind.

You were effectively caged between them and the heat building in your face betrayed you. "... So you promise not to tie me up or anything to keep me at home, right...?" You muttered, biting your lip as you mentally cursed yourself out for letting them see you like this.

"How would we be able to see you laugh or smile otherwise?" 7n7's voice was quiet but you felt his head rest on your shoulder.

Great... You were essentially giving in.

"Well... I guess I shouldn't be complaining then... If everyone benefits..." You hesitated to raise your arms but Noli made sure to grab one of your hands for himself when you finally did. The other hand just went to feel 007's hair for a moment.

It was surprisingly soft...

"That's our little harbinger of chaos..." Something about those words felt... Right...

Honestly I feel kinda bad for not knowing what to give you for this one-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[paranoiastudio]

Dark prince

pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, oral, pet name, sex video, daddy kink

word count: 3,0k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

The Dark Prince. You knew about him, of course, among the other men on the porn site he seemed different. He never shows his face, almost all the videos on the channel are filmed in the "solo" genre, and even his few partners never appeared in his videos twice.

So what should you think when you received a message from him with an offer to shoot a video together?

You yourself had fun on camera alone: ​​you didn't have a boyfriend, and having sex with strangers in the studio was too much for you. Just a temporary job that helps you, a student, stay afloat.

Why did you agree? Why didn't you refuse or just ignore him? Probably, thoughts of his beautiful, pale and tattooed body influenced your opinion and you agreed to meet and work together.

Your "colleague" paid for your flight (of course, he is from the capital), a room in an expensive hotel and agreed to the day and time when you yourself would be ready.

- Hi. - You look up timidly and almost choke at his appearance. Everything you imagined, everything you fantasized about was not even close to true.

That long blond hair, those eyes. He was tall and thin, although you could see the relief of his muscles through his thin white shirt. It seemed he had recently taken a shower, droplets of water were visible on his bare, almost smooth chest.

- Hello. - His voice is confident, he is clearly not as nervous as you are. Against his background, you seem even shorter and the man glances at the soft pink dress you chose today.

- Hi… - Thoughts are swarming in your head, you feel yourself getting shamelessly wet, the thought that that very perfect dick is nearby intoxicated you like never before.

- Hi. - He grins and lets you into his room. You haven't seen such a room in his videos, it looked much more lived-in, as if he was here all the time. - How are you?

- Everything is fine. - The view outside the window was mesmerizing. - And you… Sorry, I don't know your name, I…

- Do you want to know my name? - You nod, afraid to anger him with this request, after all, you've only known each other for a short time. - My name is Aemond.

- Aemond. - You repeat, as if trying his name on your tongue. - Am I not allowed to use it?

- You shouldn't. - He chuckles quietly again. - I don't advertise it.

- Then why did you tell me? Do you know my name?

- Yes. I saw… The diploma on the wall. - Aymond takes a bottle of cola from the minibar and hands it to you. - Here. Don't be afraid, I don't bite… Unless you ask for it.

- The diploma?

- Yes, above your bed, next to the big flower. - Aymond thought about it. - Graduated with honors, huh?

A shiver runs down your spine. If he noticed, someone else might have too. How could you be so careless? The horror must have shown on your face, because Aemond starts talking again, and this time his tone is much softer.

- I don't think anyone else would have noticed. It's just that I… I used to watch that video of you in a bunny costume quite often, remember?

Of course you remember, you bought that costume before Halloween, made a video of it, and returned it to the store that same day. It was the first time you filmed yourself playing with your butt, and it's one of your most popular videos.

- I'll hide it. - You sit down next to Aemond and take the drink from his hands. The bottle was cold and sweaty, and Aemond's hand was so warm when your fingers touched the neck of the bottle.

- Too bad, I really like it. What do you think?

- I've watched your videos, and quite often, to be honest. You're beautiful.

- Not more beautiful than you, princess. - You've heard compliments before, but Aemond's words sent a shiver through you, a pleasant thrill from the realization that he actually thinks you're beautiful.

- And… What would you like to do? - You hadn't discussed it beforehand, and only now do you realize that it would be much easier to discuss it over text.

- I've been thinking about something for a long time… But you don't make videos with your boyfriend, and I don't know what you like.

- I don't have a boyfriend, but I get what you mean. - You take another sip from the bottle. - I guess I don't want my face to be seen… Anal, I don't think… Blowjob?

Aemond watches you flutter your long eyelashes innocently, fiddling with the hem of your short dress. You seem so innocent and somehow magically managed to convey it through the screen. That's why he chose you…

A large hand lands on your knee and squeezes the soft flesh, moving higher and higher. Aemond was so tall and big that you thought he could close you off from the world.

- I would be glad if you let me. - That look; you were ready to kneel right there and whisper "yes, daddy, please." - But first, your pleasure.

Aemond works quickly and precisely. He has already set up the light next to the bed, set up the camera. He also insisted that you stay in this dress.

Everything seems so normal when the camera starts recording. Everything feels right when Aemond squeezes your breast and kisses you so deeply and hungrily that you almost choke from the onslaught.

You fall on the bed on your back, Aemond turns you around so that the view of your wet pussy is the main one on the screen. His touches were confident and precise, it felt like he already knows you, knows how to touch you.

- Such a cute pink thing. - Aemond fidgets with the bow on the hem of the dress and lifts it to the waist, pushing aside the thin strip of underwear. - I'll take care of you, baby.

A hot mouth falls on your dripping pussy and you squirm, such caresses were unusual for you, because all the guys you met, more often than not, were too selfish for this.

- Oh god… - You press your hand to your mouth, but you moan louder when Aemond wraps his lips around your clit. - Please!

- I'm just getting started, baby. - Aemond holds your legs wide apart and begins another assault, intending to make you cum on his tongue. The thought that you must taste divine has been haunting him for months.

His nimble tongue penetrates you again and again, Aemond's thumb circling your clit, already swollen from kisses. You take two fingers at once without any problem, and you both moan as you feel how hard you clench.

A finger, then a second, penetrates, stretching your plush walls and causing only more whimpers. You were shamefully wet, soaking wet as soon as you saw him, but this… Is it possible to pass out from this? When your pussy is being licked by a man like Aemond, yeah, definitely.

- Let go, baby, let me taste you. - That growl-like cry pushes you over the edge and you break when Aemond's other hand squeezes your thigh, bruising it.

You've never been loud in bed, but no one has ever given you this much pleasure. Aemond doesn't let go of you for a second, devouring your orgasm with a hunger worthy of a starving man. His fingers slide in and out with a wet squelching sound that turns you on even more. You're like an animal in mating season, unable to think about anything but him and the way his cock is pressing into you through your jeans.

- Please, wait… - Your plump, wet, pulsating pussy was so sensitive, but the man kept licking you. - Daddy, please…

Aemond immediately looks up at you and you see the effect your words had. He seemed to get even more aroused, your whimpering and the fact that you continued to squeeze around Aemond's fingers did not help his calm either.

The man catches your palm and gently bites the thin skin of your hand, slippery fingers still moving inside and you no longer try to bring your legs together, knowing that it will not help against him.

- What do you want, baby?

- Fuck me, daddy. - You throw your leg over his strong shoulder and do not meet any resistance.

- Oh, baby… - Aemond buries his face in your chest. - Your dress is so beautiful.

You giggle, understanding why he asked to stay dressed. But what you do not know is Aemond's desire to undress you himself. It is like opening a gift that you have so long and desperately desired …

Aemond pulls the fabric of the dress, exposing your chest: hard pink nipples cannot help but attract his attention, the blond immediately circles one of them with his tongue, rolls it in his mouth and releases it with a loud "pop" made by his chiseled lips.

The man helps you sit up comfortably on the bed and you immediately open your mouth, wanting to feel his heavy taste on your tongue. With one hand you grab Aemond's strong thigh and with the other you pull the fabric of the dress even lower, something like a skirt hangs at the waist, you feel the juices of arousal flowing down the inside of your thighs.

Aemond pulls the zipper and you see him: as beautiful as you remember from all his videos, the head red and dripping, wanting to receive what you will gladly give him as many times as he says.

You swallow him as deep as you can and almost choke on the amount of saliva, this man turns you into an animal. You drool and move your head more actively, making the most indecent sounds. Aemond's long fingers bury themselves in your hair, gently massaging your scalp and pulling the soft strands so that they do not bother you and do not cover your face.

The sight of you sucking his cock, wrapping your beautiful lips around the shaft, the way you look into his eyes while licking the underside of his cock, excited him like nothing else.

- That look, baby. - His voice trembles slightly and breaks into a moan. - You look at me so innocently.

- Am I doing well, daddy? - A thread of saliva has formed between your mouth and Aemond's cock and you feel how the grip in your hair is getting stronger. - I'm trying, but you're big…

He really is bigger than all the cocks you've ever handled. Even on video, you've used small or medium-sized toys. But it was impossible to swallow Aemond whole, you squeeze his balls and suck on the head, continuing to circle it with your tongue.

- Such a good girl. - Aemond literally growls, catching the pace and moving more confidently. - You'll let daddy fuck that magic throat, right?

Your hand involuntarily reaches between your legs, the pulsation is so strong that it hurts. There's a pull in your groin and you touch yourself, smearing the lube and looking for at least some release.

Aemond penetrates deeper, sees how you inhale through your nose and continues to fuck you in the mouth, wiping away your tears with his thumb. You feel the stretch, it becomes difficult to breathe, but you exhale through your nose and choke on the cock, continuing to play with your pussy.

- I was distracted for a minute… - Aemond's voice is hoarse, his cock twitches in your mouth and he pulls away. - I didn't tell you to touch yourself, right?

- Daddy… - It's so hard to take your hand away, especially when he's looking at you, his gaze does not bode well. This man will ruin you.

He throws you down on the bed, face down, ass up in the air, Aemond pulls off your dress and you're left with only your shoes, with little white bows. A heavy slap lands on your ass and you gasp from the burning sensation on your skin.

- No one but me can touch this pussy. - Aemond's other hand grabs you from below. His palm is big enough to cover your entire cunt. - Do you understand?

- Yes, daddy… - You lift your ass higher, still hoping that he will stop teasing and just fuck you the way you want.

- Repeat. - A tone that will not tolerate an argument, impossible to disobey.

- No one but you can touch… this pussy… Please! - Tears flow from your eyes, because Aemond's nimble fingers have been touching you all this time where it was wet and hot. For him, because of him…

- And now we will reinforce this lesson. - You feel how he rubs against you, collecting your secretions and lubricating his cock. You smile slightly, noting that he cares about your comfort.

This thought leaves you as soon as Aemond fills you with one strong movement, right now he did not tease you and just took everything in one movement.

The sticky walls adjust to its shape, as if you memorize its outline. It is so heavy and hot, the angle allowed the Dark Prince to penetrate so deeply, at first you only roll your eyes, your ears seem to be blocked.

Somewhere in the distance you hear a groan, it is your own voice, so high… The man hits your round ass again to bring you to your senses and immediately begins to move.

You scream and wiggle your hips, feel like you are going to die now. But it's not death, it's an orgasm that hits you suddenly and hard, you feel yourself sucking Aemond into you, he moans long and hard, but doesn't stop fucking you, his balls slapping against you, he moved so fast, as if he was really hammering a lesson into you about whose you are now…

Still shaking, you suddenly feel light and find yourself on your back, Aemond, slightly flushed, with disheveled hair, looks at you, moving his cock with his big hand. You spread your legs and take him into your arms.

Aemond holds your legs, setting a precise rhythm and plunging into you with almost hypnotic awe. He catches your face by the chin, you hold his gaze, he doesn't break away from you for a second.

- Are you going to give daddy another one, baby? - He leans down and showers your breasts with light kisses. - Squeeze me one more time and I'll give you what you need?

- Cum on my tits? - Aemond kisses you and changes the angle slightly, your ass literally hanging off the bed, Aemond above you, fucking you like it's the last time. What a beautiful view on camera, you suppose. The thought of it drives you on and you leave kisses and bites on Aemond's thin neck. Your pussy clenches, he feels that you're almost there…

- Come on, princess. You take me so well… - His voice breaks, he's close.

Aemond rubs your clit with his thumb and kisses you again. Not a single moan escapes, he'll swallow them all, not letting you go until you're ready.

He's still hard inside you when he slides out and sits on your right side. You immediately open your mouth and smile invitingly, your hands automatically reach for your chest, you pinch your nipples and wriggle.

It only takes a minute for Aemond to cum, sperm lands on your chest and stomach, moans and tries not to close his eyes, continuing to slide his gaze over you.

You lick a few drops and smile at him. Aemond leans down and kisses your forehead.

- Can I get a close-up? - You just nod and stay on the bed.

The man takes the camera from the tripod and comes to you. Your face is out of frame, he focuses on your tits and the cum dripping down you. You play with your breasts a little when Aemond changes the angle and your pulsating pussy is right in the frame, the man catches your gaze and smiles, receiving another nod.

He runs his finger along the entrance, pinches the clit with two fingers, you giggle, but spread your legs wider. He penetrates again with his fingers, pulling out a couple more wet slaps; pulling out his fingers, he slaps your pubis and ends the recording.

You are still lying on the bed when he brings a warm towel and washes off the traces of your passion. Silently, you let him do it, using the opportunity to examine him up close once more. Aemond does everything good and carefully, he is too experienced.

The sudden urge to touch him overcame common sense and your palm ended up on Aemond's cheek. He looked up and you stared at each other for a few seconds, you were the first to reach out to him and innocently, quickly and lightly, touched his lips.

- I felt good… - You don't know why you're even saying this.

- Me too. - He smiled and leaned into your touch. - Do you want to take a shower? And then we can… go to lunch if you want.

You agreed, you spent a couple more hours together, Aemond promised to send you the final version of the video before publishing it, so that you could check everything and approve it.

As promised, you hid the video that Aemond had mentioned, but sent it to him, writing in the message "since you like it so much, you can be the only one who has it xx"

That same day, Aemond sent you video and you were pleasantly surprised. Everything looks really good, and this is your first sex video with another person.

As soon as you finished watching, another message came from Aemond.

“How about we always make videos together? And I would also be happy to take you on a date”

[misc-obeyme]

hello!! knock knock!! 👁‍🗨 is here to request something!!

I wonder how the brothers would feel towards an mc that bites them out of nowhere. not in a kinky way, but in a way to release their stress? lololol pretty self indulgent but sometimes my energy goes towards my mouth instead of my limbs so i would hopelessly bite the air to release some energy ⚡

i do imagine it being sudden since i imagine my mc to be the type to just hold (biting their own nails, sleeves, etc), but it's totally up to you!

Ohhh heeyy there, 👁‍🗨 anon!! Sorry this is sooo late hopefully you're still around to see it 😩

Anyway, I hope this is kind of what you were meaning? It's a short little scene but it has all the brothers (though only two of them get bitten lol).

MC & all the bros

Warnings: none though there is some biting obviously and just the usual brotherly antics

It had been a long day at RAD, as usual. Not only did you have your hands full keeping the brothers in line as usual, but you had also had to prevent Solomon from getting involved in a cooking assignment in home economics. Not to mention the piles of homework and upcoming tests that were looming. You were a bit stressed, but you were doing your best to keep it all under control.

Thankfully, it wasn't your night to help make dinner or clean up. So you had a moment to sit at the table with the brothers, satisfied with the food that Satan had made.

Lucifer was currently lecturing Belphegor, who had fallen asleep in his pancakes that morning and who was not listening now, while Asmo and Levi were having a lively discussion about the aesthetics of DevilTube streamers. The discussion was beginning to escalate into something closer to an argument, but you tried to keep your focus on your food.

Biting into your black tapir helped a bit, but it wasn't enough. You felt the energy building inside of you at the continued noise.

When you couldn't contain yourself anymore, you turned to the brother nearest to you and bit down on his arm.

"Ow! What're ya doin', MC!"

It turned out that Mammon was the recipient of your random need to bite and he was currently trying to shake you off of him.

Asmo's attention left Levi entirely as he giggled. "Shouldn't you save that kind of behavior for the bedroom, MC?"

Beel, who was sitting on your other side, leaned over the table to look at you better. "I think they're just hungry."

"How can they be hungry when there's a plate of dinner sitting right in front of them?" Satan asked, gesturing to the plate that indeed still had quite a bit of that evening's meal on it.

"Haven't you ever gotten hungry while you were eating?" Beel asked.

"No, Beel," Belphie said. "Most people don't know what that's like."

Beel seemed confused. "Then what is going on with MC?"

You listened to this conjecture, but you didn't feel as though you had the presence of mind to let go just yet. So of course you couldn't answer their questions when your mouth was full.

"It seems to be a stress response," Lucifer said.

All the other brothers looked at him in surprise.

Lucifer frowned and folded his arms. "Don't look at me like that," he said. "I've learned a lot about humans since MC has come to stay with us. My understanding is that sometimes when they're stressed, they release that stress in unusual ways. Just let MC bite you, Mammon."

Mammon had stopped trying to dislodge you. He pointed across the table at Asmo. "If you and Levi hadn't been arguin' this never woulda happened!"

"You can't blame us!" Asmo said.

"Yeah!" Levi put in. "How do you know it wasn't Lucifer's droning lecture about not falling asleep in your food?"

As they devolved into further arguing, Mammon whimpered a bit as you clamped down a little harder.

"Stop arguin'!" he yelled. "You're makin' it worse!"

Everyone fell silent.

Beel put a hand on your shoulder. "It's okay, MC," he said. "If you need to bite someone, you should bite me. I have plenty of muscle, I won't even feel it."

"Are ya callin' me scrawny?" Mammon mumbled.

You considered this and realized Beel was probably right. You closed your eyes, tried to calm down a bit, and then released Mammon.

"Hey, I'm free!" he cried.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Sorry," you said. "There's just been a lot going on lately."

"There, you see?" Lucifer said. "It was stress, as I said."

"Do you feel better now, MC?" Beel asked.

You frowned a little. "A bit, but…"

Beel was already rolling up his sleeve. He pointed at his arm. "This is the best spot," he said.

You almost laughed at his sincerity, but it also made you feel cared for. You bit down and he didn't even flinch.

It became an accepted thing. Now that they knew about this tendency of yours to decompress through biting, their main reaction to getting bitten was to worry about you. And Beel was always prepared to give a you a little snack, too, as he insisted it would help. And if you were honest, it usually did.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[vxnillabxn]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ steamy, suggestive! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ nsfw, mdni! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚so... i remembered i have free will, and honestly? the idea of dating an artist makes me WILD. plus, i DID say once he could ask me to roll around in paint and i would gladly obey, so why not write about it? enjoy! ♡

honestly, the way you two got entangled like this was blurry now.

it all started when he whined over the phone, saying he needed new paint to live, or he'd agonize slowly until the cruel, merciless destiny finally gave him the relief of death.

…and the paint shop was on your way back home, so why not buy him some?

when you finally arrived with two big bags of paint tubes and some colored shells for him to crush and get the pigment, he was awfully giddy.

like, humming, blushing, smiling like a fool.

it didn't make sense, until you saw the elegant crystal glass between his slender fingers. ah, alcohol.

was it wine? was it whiskey? was it vodka mixed with something else?

as you approached, he immediately looked at you and received you with open arms. in that moment, you caught a whiff of the mysterious concoction.

you didn't know what it was, but it was sweet.

“my pearl, my muse… did you get me what i asked for?”

you rolled your eyes, soon handing him the bags.

“how marvelous, i've been spared from a gruesome death!”

you kissed his cheek while nodding at his statement. playing along is kinda funny at times.

eventually, you curiously asked what he was drinking, but he didn't answer.

instead, he asked you to try it, and you did.

and it tasted divine.

also, without you even registering it, you too started getting giddy. you giggled at his words, felt your skin heating up, and got a bit more… touchy.

he was thrilled, of course, almost in heaven, if you will. and after laughing, drinking and kissing each other for a while, you finally saw his eyes.

uh-oh. you knew that gaze. you knew when he had a crazy idea, or —as he called them— inspiration boosts.

“raf, what are you…?”

he grinned, standing up quickly. he laid a rather large canvas on the floor, and then he took your hand, looking into your eyes with both excitement and mischief.

“undress.”

huh?

“please.”

he quickly added, upon seeing your furrowed eyebrows. without waiting for a reply, he started undressing himself first.

and you didn't know if it was because of the drink, or because you loved him so much, that you soon started undressing as well.

“close your eyes for me, my pearl.”

he requested, and you obeyed.

“raf, if you want to make love, you just have to say it.”

he shifted around, and you heard his clumsy footsteps, the sound of a bag being opened, and the faint noise of the paint tubes being squished.

you grew confused and impatient. plus, the sea breeze that leaked through the window was making your hot skin crawl.

“rafayel, this is getting ridi—”

cool, slick paint suddenly hit your back. you shrieked and jumped, opening your eyes immediately.

“what are you doing?!”

but he pressed his chest against your bare back, hugging you from behind and, effectively, coating both your bodies with the paint.

soon enough, his hands left cerulean handprints on your chest, your waist and your hips. he was caressing your body while kissing your nape, and you didn't know whether to be angry, confused or turned on.

obviously, after a few loving and soft whispers against your ear, you chose the latter.

how could you say no when he was rolling his hips back and forth against your backside so deliciously?

he spun you around to look at you, and now poured some of the paint onto your palms.

“your turn.”

you didn't waste a single second. your hands were all over him; his strong shoulders, his torso, his arms. hell, you even cupped his cheeks, because that flushed look he had created such a stunning view.

now, you began to question why he was coating your bodies in paint. well, when he laid you down on the canvas and hovered over you, you realized what was going on.

as he kissed you, hugged you, nuzzled against you…

and as he loved you, eventually putting you in different positions, you saw them.

you saw both your bodies imprinted on the canvas.

of course, there were different shapes —none of them identifiable—, but you could somewhat decipher when and how they were created.

after all, this art was your creation too.

he added more paint, more colors, more positions, more love.

and after hours of filling every single spot, until no white could be detected, he held you close.

he kissed your forehead and brushed some wet strands away, leaving trails of paint on your skin.

you both snuggled close, before you rested against his chest and closed your eyes.

however, he now nudged you just a bit.

you hummed in response.

“my pearl, you've been amazing. can't you be good for me a bit longer?”

he whispered, shaky breath, hazy eyes, nibbling on your earlobe as his hands kept caressing your half-cerulean-half-purple body.

“it's just… i still need to add the highlights.”

and that's when you realized… it was going to be a long night.

and you didn't mind if he used all the paint tubes in one sitting…

as long as he kept having these inspiration boosts.

[hufflezki]

Hii! I've loved everything I've read from your account so far and wanted to request something of course only if you're interested/have time ✨️🫶

This is a Sirius x reader situation.

I was thinking a reader maybe like Malfoy little sister or any other pureblood family, and she is a "rebel" just like Sirius. The reader and Regulus could be classmates or know each other because they migh have classes together, partnering for projects, childhood friends or something like that...but since she's also different/same situation as Sirius, he [Sirius] might feel attracted to her because he feels like she understands, so he asks his brother for help to get her attention, in a way reader could be a bridge between the Black brothers, like Regulus' best friend and Sirius' partner/gf?. She might end up taking Regulus with her from Black Manor.

Thank youu, sorry if this is long idk how detailed it should be a request 😭 no problem if you decide not to write it 💕

[ 🦢 ᝰ.ᐟ ] thank you for requesting, loviee<33 sorry if this took a little while. I also ended up changing some things, but I hope you don't mindd!

-> sirius black x gn!reader, who doesn't share the same beliefs as her pureblood family, reader and regulus are close friends, james potter being a wingman, the black brothers live in the potter manor, word count: 1,233

“Come on, Jamie, don't tell me you’re not even a little bit curious?” Sirius whisper-yells at his bespectacled friend, as they peer at you and Regulus—in the living room—from behind a wall, not at all looking amiss. James wasn't quite sure how he ended up following Sirius’ steps. He’s been acting like this ever since he found out from Regulus, he definitely didn't beg him for information, that you had rejected another one of your parents’ proposals for an arranged marriage. And, apparently, this time you—alongside your younger sibling—finally decided to leave home with a friend's help. Hearing that alone sent Sirius into some kind of nostalgic mess. Which is why you’ve never left his mind the past few days.

Sirius knew you, you’d been one of the first few friends Regulus made at Hogwarts. The both of you share quite a few similarities, something that probably brings sense as to why you’re both so close. You both won't tolerate anything you deem nonsensical. You’re both just as stubborn. But you know how to use your wits to your own advantage. Which Sirius finds very admirable about you.

At first, he tried dismissing his feelings as just him being worried for his brother’s friend. After all, Regulus seems very fond of you out of all his friends. His little brother never misses to mention your name in a heartbeat. And Sirius, wanting to earn back his title of a good brother, began entertaining you as well when you came over. That’s until he found himself falling deeper into your labyrinth. Turns out, you shared more similarities with him. You come from a lineage of purebloods, that you despise because of the way they treat you. And you have a younger brother—who you’re trying to raise the best as you can. And that made Sirius dote on you even more. To the point his friends are beginning to notice.

“Curious? About my best friend's brother’s friend?” James scrunches his eyebrows together, repeating his words. “Geez, I think I’m gonna have a stroke.” He adds, but Sirius is too distracted to even hear him. Leaving James to stare at his hopeless looking friend. He’s never seen him this way before. Though, to be fair, you are giving his best friend a hard time just by being Regulus’ friend. Not to be taken as offensive, or anything, but he’s been acting kind of like a huge wall between you and Sirius. James finds it funny, though. Apparently, all it takes to cockblock Sirius is his own little brother.

A minute later, your two spectators see Regulus stand up, mutter something inaudible to you, before leaving. Sirius and James are forced to separate, pretending on doing their own things by the hallway. Regulus passes by them and eyes them, suspiciously, as James strangely inspects a nearby potted plant while Sirius fixes the broken head of a lamp. “You two can stop. We've already seen you.” The two friends exchange a look, before Regulus turns the hallway and heads to the kitchen.

Sirius gives James an incredulous look, before his friend gives him a slight push. “Go!” James eggs him on, grabbing him on the shoulders and turning him to the direction of the kitchen. “What? What do you want me to do?!” Sirius pushes himself back on his feet, but fails to do so when James starts pushing him forward. “Just ask Regulus to help you! You’re so obvious already!” Sirius turns around to face him, eyes wide. “I am not!” He looks at him as if James was the one being ridiculous for accusing him of acting like something that he is. Suddenly, you pop out behind them, from the living room.

“What’s all the commotion?” You startle James for a bit, but he finds his composure and convinces you with an excuse. Now, he’s dragging you back to the living room, with a promise to play chess. James, narrowing his eyes at his best friend, then mumbles. “Talk to him.” Before disappearing with you.

Sirius is then left to do one of the least things he wants to.

Talk to his brother about the way he feels.

“You like my friend?” Sirius feels like a proper dog with its tail tucked between its legs, as he feels Regulus’ scrutinizing gaze. Or is that just how he stares at people? Either way it was a little terrifying. He was trying to be vulnerable here, telling his little brother about how things started changing after you and him had that talk the last time. And suddenly the air seems rigid between him and Regulus.

Then a sigh, Sirius sees his brother grab the teapot and pour him a cup of tea. “Here, it should ease your nerves.” With his voice monotonous, he gives it to Sirius, who’s still a little bewildered. “Take it.” Regulus starts insisting, and eventually Sirius carefully grabs it from him, taking a big sip. And it did help, quite a bit actually, as his shoulders started to grow lighter.

“Green tea?”

“Yes. It's the only thing we have left.” Sirius hums, nodding his head as he takes another sip, before placing it back down on its coaster. “Anyway, I don't control how you feel. If you like them, I think it's best if you had this talk with them instead of me.” Regulus turns around, pouring himself a cup this time. Sirius follows him, pursing his lips, unsure. “Are you sure? That this is alright with you, I mean.” Familiar grey eyes stare at him once more, before Regulus speaks. “Like I said, I don't control the way you feel. Either way, I know you have good intentions. And they seem equally as interested in you” Regulus pauses. “I say, take the risk and just tell them. You deserve love too, Sirius.” With that said, Sirius feels much better than he did before.

He may not have been present for Regulus the last few years, but he’s glad that his brother’s giving him a chance to redeem himself.

“Sorry to interrupt your sibling time, but I just beat James in chess, and now he wants a rematch with an audience.” Your voice can be heard entering the kitchen, James trailing behind you like a defeated puppy. Sirius can’t help but smile. “If that's the case then,” He approaches you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, not missing the way you try to avoid his gaze. “I’m on your side.” Sirius mumbles, and he sees the corner of your lips tilt up.

“Great choice.” You finally meet his eyes, causing him to feel a little dazed. You’re even more charming up close. “As much as I want to team up with you as well. Seeing the circumstances, I guess it leaves me no choice.” You both hear Regulus pass by between the three of you, exiting the kitchen. “Wait, you’re teaming up with me?!” James trails behind him, giddy to have someone on his team.

“No, but I’ll be here to watch you lose again.” You both hear James’ loud gasp from the hallway.

“We shouldn’t let them wait much longer.” You say, Sirius trails his hand down to the small of you back, nodding in agreement. Before the both of you make your way back to the living room as well.

This day might’ve turned out much better than he anticipated.

marauders era masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

[specialgradefckr]

goooood i really wanna write sukugo/reader but i just!!! do not!!! have the HOOK! i don't know where this starts!!

i don't want to do a non-sorcerer au - personally i find peak sukugo to be the two of them as sorcerers being their crazy super strong selves. and i want to insert reader into that dynamic to be powerful alongside them.

because that's what their appeal is, to me, you know? sukuna and gojo are a fun couple because they represent the two strongest sorcerers of their time, two deeply isolated individuals, who took their power in very different directions.

the story itself leans into it during their fight, into gojo empathizing with sukuna afterwards and wanting to "reach him", and sukuna complimenting him after his defeat.

i want to be there, standing between them. gojo is strong because he was born strong, he was born blessed and he was treated like it by everyone he met. sukuna was strong but he was treated like a curse, and he became one.

you could be someone who was born weak, and became strong. sukuna especially espouses the more fatalistic idea that people just are either strong or weak, and the weak should know their place. gojo embodies "pure talent" as someone who never had to work to be good at anything.

or you could be someone who was born strong like them, but never used it. maybe you became a painter or a writer. you thought of strength as useless, because what good was a curse technique in winning the heart of a loved one? or sparking your creative passion?

the story never explores if gojo really found it fulfilling to be a sorcerer or if that's just all he ever knew. sukuna generally enjoys fighting and being a dick, but there's a moment when he becomes pretty unsettled by the realization of how painfully empty that makes his life - he eats, sleeps, kills. he has no greater purpose.

strength is such a big theme in jjk and i wish it were explored more with sukuna and gojo but sjkdfhglsfhdg i can't blame gege for doing more shit,,, i WANT to do it but i don't know how to go about it either!!! i have no plot or setting or scenario sdhfgkldhg it's so tough

anyways sorry if you were hoping from writing from me skjdfghfg i'm gonna be a bit i think. BUT! i promise i am actually working, i got a little done today,,,, and i have a few impassioned asks about which series to pick up, as well hehehe >.>

[sysig]

Skelekinz (Patreon)

[supercantaloupe]

I was just googling around to see if there's any perfumes that smell like artificial cherry bc 1. I've been wanting to be a Perfume Person for a while now. Like get into wearing scents and stuff. & 2. I used my dry shampoo that smells like cherries and I love it so much... Anyways ppl online were saying that if you want artificial cherry smell you're probably better off with body spray, so I looked that up and it's a lot cheaper? So like, jackpot for me! Now I'm contemplating buying some 🍒

Question for you: Do you wear perfumes/etc? And even if not, what's a smell you really like?

i don't wear perfumes or generally use scented body products, i both have shitty sensitive skin and am easily prone to headaches, so i tend to avoid strong scents and skin contact with fragrances when i can because they can be a migraine and/or skin rash trigger for me :( like i'll use a lightly scented deodorant on my underarms but other than that i don't use any products on my skin or clothes or hair or whatever for the purpose of Scent. i'll occasionally light a scented candle in my apartment if like i just took the trash out and it's a little smelly but i don't burn it for very long otherwise i give myself a headache. i've been very slowly burning through an apple scented candle from trader joes for like a year and a half at this point lol

i do enjoy a good scent though...the kind of artificial fragrances added to candles and perfumes and stuff are too strong for me but i love a good natural scent. the inside of a bakery/cafe is a great smell. all that pastry crust and ground coffee. baking smells are almost always amazing tbh just like baking bread or muffins or cookies, top tier scents. warming winter spices like cinnamon and clove are wonderful, and especially cardamom, i love the fragrance of cardamom so much i always throw a few pods into my hot cocoa. and roasting chicken. smells like home!!

[ask meme]

[divinedomainn]

Stream and Scream | reader x multiple men

play previous song? || ◁ PART 1 ▷ || play next song?

summary : After another horny stream, you drop the bomb: fuck-a-fan fridays—seven weeks, seven fans, seven filthy videos. masks on, faces hidden, just you and one lucky subscriber tangled up on camera each week. All they have to do? strip down, get hard, and show you why it should be them. Auditions start now.

contains : camgirl!reader x a whole ass roster, rotating cast, university AU, smut, porn with kinda a crack plot, casual sex, anonymous sex, exhibitionism, recording, oral sex, piv sex, rough kinky sex, everyone wants to fuck reader, horny simp men

A/N : and so it starts!!! is everyone ready to see the submissions from your favorite horndogs? :) (also i hope you can tell whose who hehehe) i'm trying to keep the writing inclusive for every sort of female presenting person so let me know how i've done!

The next few weeks passed in a blur of lace, lube, and direct deposits that made your head spin. What had started as a desperate half-joke had morphed into a full-blown empire - your empire. The girl who once contemplated selling her underwear for gas money was now clearing rent, tuition, groceries, and still had enough left over to drop serious coin on clothes and silk bed sheets.

You’d gone to the next level. Your friends were of course benefitting from your suspiciously newfound wealth, you casually said you had found a better part-time job, never letting them know the truth when you decided to take them shopping. Not yet at least.

Private requests were your bread and butter. You weren’t just good anymore - you were a professional tease, a digital siren with a library of toys, outfits, and vocal tones that could bring grown men to their knees. They paid for everything; soft whispers, rough talk, slow stroking, filthy roleplays. Some just oddly wanted to hear your moans on loop. Others wanted personalized videos where you called them by username and told them exactly what you’d do if they ever had the balls to show up in person.

You were making big bank. Like “accidental tax bracket change” big. Like “should probably consult a financial advisor” big.

And the men?

Oh, the men were obsessed.

Especially the regulars. Their usernames lit up your screen night after night, tipping with reckless abandon, flooding the chat with unfiltered thirst. You didn’t know who they were in real life, yet, but their personalities bled through the screen in such vivid, chaotic little ways.

EmoWithaBoner was yearning. Desperate in a way that made your chest clench and your thighs twitch. His messages were usually soft, almost sweet - You deserve everything, You looked so beautiful tonight - until something cracked open inside him mid-message and he’d type something crazy like: I would lick your cunt until you beg me to stop. Now that had gotten a small “Oh.” out of you. He wanted to worship you and ruin you all at once.

SixEyesOnly was a fucking menace. Flirty, cocky, constantly sending emojis that were way too smug for someone probably watching with only one hand available. His tips were ridiculous, like, spend $300 just to watch you eat grapes in a bad wig slowly sort of ridiculous, and his messages read like he was trying to fluster you on purpose. You assumed it was some sort of control thing with him, throwing money at people and getting them to do it. No complaints from you.

TempleOfSin was smooth, a little poetic, a little filthy. He asked for long, descriptive videos where you described what you were wearing, how you’d touch him, how you'd taste. He liked to also order roleplay videos where you pretended to worship him like he was some sort of God. Sometimes he called you his loyal little follower. You didn’t ask questions.

daddyissuez was feral. No other word for it. His requests were blunt, primal, always toeing the line of what the platform allowed and your own, now lacking, self-control. He liked spit, degradation, and power games. His tipping was sporadic and a lot less compared to the others, though, it was enough to keep him in your attention.

OfficeAfterHours was different. Polite. Polished. His messages came like little business memos laced with innuendo. “You looked stunning tonight. That color suits you,” followed by a $200 tip telling you to buy more in the same color. Never crude, always composed. It made him stand out more, somehow. Like a man who didn’t need to beg. A man who expected what he wanted, and always got it.

And then there was KingOfRot.

Unpredictable. Crude. Arrogant. He dropped tips like they were nothing. $500 just because you looked at the camera in a way he said was like a ‘deer in the headlights’. Odd, but $500 was a good amount to keep your mouth shut. He called you “pet,” “whore,” “delicious little thing.” You should’ve blocked him. Instead, you kept reading his messages twice over with your jaw unhinged and in wonderment whether or not he actually said that. His energy was intense and you hated how hot that was.

Which brings us to tonight.

You were perched in your new silk sheets, ring light warm against your skin, wearing your most transparent slip where your nipples were clearly on display and a smug little smirk behind that now iconic mask of yours. You’d hyped this stream for days - teased it on your feed, hinted at it in DMs. The chat was already on fire and you hadn’t even said a word yet. Tonight was a big one.

EmoWithaBoner: god ur so fucking hot tonight SixEyesOnly: i logged in 15 minutes early and i still feel late :(( OfficeAfterHours: You’ve outdone yourself this evening. KingOfRot: Come on, get to the fucking point, girl.

You grinned, slow and lethal, dragging your fingers along your inner thigh and ignoring KingOfRot.

“Well,” you purred, “I figured since you’ve all been very generous lately… it’s time I give something back.”

SixEyesOnly: oh fuck You licked your lips, loving the short little power trip it gave you. “I’ve been thinking,” you said, voice sweet and dangerous. “Maybe it’s time to start a little… tradition.”

You paused for dramatic effect.

“Fuck-a-Fan Fridays.” You bit your lip. Boom. Chat detonation. SixEyesOnly had sent you $200 just for the phrase.

EmoWithaBoner: you’re joking SixEyesOnly: oh shit baby TempleOfSin: Perfect. KingOfRot: You say when and where, pet. daddyissuez: i’ll be first. fuck the line OfficeAfterHours: I trust you've thought this through..

You leaned in close. OfficeAfterHours was cute in the way he was concerned for you. “I mean, why stop at one, right?” You giggled, cheeks burning behind your mask as you kicked your feet a little bit out of the view of your webcam. “I was gonna keep it casual, but um… yeah. What if I made it a thing? Like, a series?”

Another pause. You leaned in even closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper that still carried heat.

“One fan. Every Friday. For seven weeks.”

You crossed your bare legs over one another, your slip rising on your thighs as you did so. “Seven Fridays. Seven people. Seven chances to fuck the brains out of a very nervous, very willing woman who cannot believe she’s actually saying this live right now.”

You sat up again, brushing the slip back into place like your nipples weren’t clearly on display.

“I mean..obviously, we’ll keep it anonymous. Like, we’re not stupid here. Masks. No faces. Just hands. Bodies. And my camera.” The chat was still in full meltdown, comments stacking so fast the shitty platform could barely keep up. Your heart was pounding, your skin warm and tingling from the high of it all—of watching them fall apart just from your voice, your words, the soft shift of silk and skin. You hadn’t even done anything explicit yet, and they were on their knees.

God, it was addictive.

You stretched your arms overhead with a soft sigh, the movement pulling your slip just high enough to tease your hips. A final little gift before the curtain dropped.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” you said with a giggle, feigning innocence even as your gaze sparkled with something much dirtier. “You guys are gonna give me a heart attack.” SixEyesOnly: no no no don’t leave yettt!! :(( KingOfRot: You owe me for the buildup, woman. You tilted your head, lips curving into a sweet little smile as you leaned forward, giving them just one more generous view of your tits before the curtains closed.

“But before I go…” you said, voice slipping into something quieter, softer, like a secret you didn’t mean to share. “If you’re serious about Fuck-a-Fan Fridays… I want you to show me.”

The pause that followed had its own kind of weight. You watched the chat stall for half a second. The anticipation was thick enough to choke on.

“Send me a message,” you murmured, “with a picture. No face. Just your body, and cock, obviously.”

You let your fingers trail down your own torso, to your hips, your thighs, hinting at what you wanted to see. “Let me see what I’d be touching.. What I’ll be fucked braindead by.” EmoWithaBoner: fuck i’ll take a hundred SixEyesOnly: don’t lose your mind too much baby KingOfRot: It’ll be mine you dream about when you touch yourself. OfficeAfterHours: Submission will follow shortly. No face. Clean framing. High quality.

You had to laugh—giddy and a little breathless. You honestly didn’t think they’d go this feral.

“Think of it as an audition,” you said, tucking your knees to your chest, playing sweet again. “Show me what you’re offering. How you’d fit against me. In me.”

You smoothed your hand up your own thigh, lazily now, teasing.

“And just so you know,” you added with a little grin, “I’m only really looking at the ones who’ve tipped enough to keep my attention. You know who you are.”

Oh, they most definitely did.

The seven of them were already scrambling—photos incoming, tips rolling, blood leaving their brains. You didn’t need names. Their usernames were burned into your memory. Their obsessions with you were paying your bills.

“Goodnight, boys,” you whispered. “Impress me.” The second you ended the stream, you collapsed backward into your pillows with a dazed little laugh, limbs spread like you’d just run a marathon and won a gold medal in filth. The glow from your laptop cast a soft haze across your legs, the screen already lighting up with the chaos you’d left behind—tips still pouring in, messages stacking, your inbox begging for attention.

And the photos?

Oh, they were already flooding in, from people you didn’t want, but it was there regardless - upping your activity.

You rolled onto your stomach, chin resting in your palm as you clicked open the first one with a half-curious, half-unhinged smile.

No face, just like you asked. Neck down. The guy was standing in front of a mirror, one hand wrapped tight around his cock, the other lifting his hoodie to show off his chest. His abs were flexed. His cock hard enough to cast a shadow.

You blinked. Let out a slow breath.

“…Damn.”

Another one came in. Different guy, different vibe—tattoos on his hips, hand slick and stroking himself in a dimly lit bathroom, captioned: Fridays look good on me. Want to see how I look underneath you?

“Oh my god,” you whispered, laughing as you pulled your legs up behind you. “This is real. I’m really doing this.”

And you were. One fan. Every Friday. Seven weeks. Seven videos. Each one getting posted to your feed, available for your hundreds of subscribers to watch, rewatch, tip on, comment under, and probably break their dicks to.

It wasn’t just a hookup. It was content. Premium content.

Still riding the rush, you opened your messaging panel and started typing.

New Mass Message Sent to All Subscribers:

Hey babes— If you missed the stream tonight (rip to you), here’s your official invite.

Fuck-a-Fan Fridays is happening. Starting next week, I’ll be choosing seven of you to spend one very intimate night with me. Every Friday for the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting a new video. One fan. One full-length scene. Just me… and whoever impresses me the most.

How to audition:- Send me a photo. - Neck down only. No faces. Masks will be worn on camera, so full anonymity will be protected. But I need to see everything. Cock out. Hard. Your body. Your vibe. The way you'd look on camera—underneath me, on top of me, behind me, inside me.

Show off a little. Or a lot.

Make me want it. Let the auditions begin.

xoxo,

—Your girl

taglist : @frozenmallows @90s-belladonna @moncher-ire @kunareads @blublublubby @grignardsreagent @soozeu @mochiivqi @sweetsformysoul @killak9mi @celloccino @gurlhere4fluff @syubseokie

[lovegasmic]

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬▶ 𝗩𝗛𝗦

HOT DILF NEXT DOOR ⭑.ᐟ

‘ toji fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo x fem!reader ’ ୨୧ taglist

⌞ PG-18 ⌝ reversed version of hot milf next door ◞ age gap, all consenting adults◞ creampie except for kento ◞ they are actual dilfs not just older men◞ you cheat on your bf with satoru but he deserves it, and reader is a brat◞

this is long and I've had this request for longer, so take this as an apology for not posting anything new lately ‹3

𝜗𝜚 TOJI

of course another screw had to come loose from the cheap cupboard doors barely hanging on for dear life. you curse under your breath, wiping a drop of sweat that makes it’s way down your forehead and onto the cupid bow, “fuck this shit place” finding a good place as a student was no good, and it was either surviving in a struggling apartment or sharing living space at the school dorms where the air reeked of multiple fluids and body odors was not really an option.

and now, rummaging through the multiple still closed boxes laying on your living room to find a screwdriver was neither an option, “just kill me already” mustering up some courage, your feet drags you to the front door and towards the one next to it, hoping and praying that your neighbor is an actual nice person as your knuckles hit the wood, please, anything really, perhaps an older lady who can bake, or a lovely young student around your age who can—

oh.

that’s a freaking kid.

“hi, um..., are your parents home?” so freaking awkward, the kid looks at you unimpressed, barely blinking and dark hair sticking in all directions before he turns around.

okay, that was rude, but you’re about to speak again until he comes up, moving as if he owned the place, big muscles under a shirt a bit too tight, and that flat expression barely quirks up in what seems like a grin, “can I help you, doll?” and oh, again, that voice is enough to make your knees buck.

“h-hi, i moved next door, and uh—” shit, shit, “do you have a screwdriver I can borrow for a second?” did you even introduce yourself? that does not matter, and the man doesn’t seem to care, giving you an amused up and down look before nodding.

“got a problem with the cupboard already, huh? don’t worry I got a trick” isn’t this man such a gentleman? already gathering some tools and telling the kid, now called Megumi, to behave while he helped the cute girl.

he’s definitely flirting, yeah, it must be, those half grins, constant licks at the scar in the corner of his mouth and the way his eyes trail up and down your body when he thinks you’re not looking, that’s flirting, isn’t it?

just snap out of it, you’re not an eighteen year old anymore, you’re 20... not a big difference, but you should not be fantasizing about that man who is most likely married.

“... anything else?” his voice snaps you out of your stupor, now for good, but you know he’s aware, judging by the grin he offers.

“no, that’s all, thanks” you hope that will answer whatever he also asked, what you don’t expect is for his large body frame to walk up to you, a calloused thumb pressing on your jaw to tilt your head up.

he leans slightly, “no need to be shy, doll, neighbors are to help each other” and there is a trace of something else behind his words, something you can’t quite put into words.

a very slight gasp escapes your lips as his thumb runs down, gently caressing the column of your throat and collarbones, “you’re so pretty, a pretty girl like you must have a pretty name” and you utter it, rolling out your tongue for Toji to catch it with his own name in a shared breath.

Toji. Toji. Toji.

“Toji...! it’s nghhh... r-reaching oh, so deep!” who could have thought that ‘neighboors helping each other’ would have turned into ‘neighbors who rearrange your guts’.

it’s been a few days since the first time Toji helped you fix the furniture, which developed into some kisses, cock sucking and now almost a daily fuck, with quivering thighs with just how hard Toji’s cock rammed into your tiny hole, so fuckin’ wet and tight, struggling to accommodate the whole girth of the man’s huge cock sliding in and out deliciously deep.

there’s a whole package of condoms in your drawer, tucked under the remaining pair of panties Toji hasn’t ripped apart in attempts to reach your cunt faster.

“take it, fuckin’ take it” he huffs, cock twitching inside your velvety walls that cling to each vein and ridge around that fat and long dick, the couch drags across the floor with each one of the dark haired’s thrusts, having you bent, a tit out of the tank top, panties swinging around an ankle and toes curled in sheer bliss. that man knows how to fuck.

and his hand is everywhere, one is holding your shoulders to brutally pull you back so your pussy lips spread vulgarly on each side of his balls, while the other entrained itself by pinching a nipple, tugging your tits and groping the fat of your ass, a low whistle comes next at the sight of your tiny hole stuffed to the brim, “fuck, doll, this cute tight pussy is gripping so tight, shit..., like a fucking virgin...” and a thumb comes to rub your clitoris, a bit uncoordinated but still as good, making your head swim in pleasure, “i’m going to cum if you tighten so hard...”

“i-in— angh, inside, please!”

“of course i’m cumming in this pussy” Toji mocks with a laugh and you whimper, shaking your head, barely turning to look at the man from above your shoulder with pleading, cute eyes.

“take off the condom” and fuck, a fat drop of precum just oozed from the tip.

your hands reach back to press on Toji’s v line, fingertips grazing the slick coated base, “the princess wants a creampie in her tiny cunt?”

fucking hell, that cocky smirk and the way his cock, disgustingly hard, slaps against his abdomen when pulling out makes your tummy do a flip, eagerly reaching to tug on the latex tip and tossing the condom away as if it was offensive.

“a-ah yes!” you can’t avoid the relief moan that gets pulled out of your lips at the sensation, alongside Toji’s pleasure groan that rumbles deep and darkly, with thumbs hooking on each side of your pussy to keep you spread and ready to take those perfectly aligned thrusts, smashing your g spot and having you cumming within seconds, “g-uh, so good... I need...”

“i know, baby, I know, i’m... fuck... cumming deep in this fertile young pussy”

𝜗𝜚 KENTO

the last box is loaded in the truck and your parents bid you farewell. sigh, time to get to work, “do you need any more help?” Kento asks, your sweet and kind neighbor who you’ve known for years, who used to brush your knees when you fell on the grass while playing with Yuuji, who baked delicious loafs of bread you cheerfully ate sitting at the edge of his kitchen counter with your feet swinging.

“i will be okay” you say, flashing a side grin towards the older man, his face as warm as ever, but currently sporting several age lines that just make him look hotter.

yes, you grew and so did he, but your first, and initial admiration towards the man, soon became more loving and even lustful when you turned 19, and now with your parents moving abroad, leaving the cozy, childhood home you grew up in to your care, being into Kento’s ‘care’ —which you did not even needed in the first place, god, you’re a grown adult!— perhaps you were going to use this chance to get closer to the man.

“then I will get going so you get used to your new independence” he jokes a little, turning to return to his empty home due to Yuuji’s just recent departure to college.

“wait!” you stop him, “i was thinking... you know that yummy bread you used to bake? do you mind teaching me how to do it myself?” that will definitely do, getting into Kento’s good side, and house, was as easy as you remember.

and of course he agreed, offering a nod and gentle smile that just made your belly do a flip, what a damn pervert you were, lusting over your neighbour who probably just saw you as a charity work.

but then again, Kento needed it, the poor man was so lonely, with Yuuji gone, his wife leaving him years ago due to his ‘workaholic’ behaviour, a woman’s touch was so needed in his life, and you were going to help.

the baking class is so domestic you kinda feel bad for trying to get into the blonde’s pants, really, his always present and fond smile while you accidentally made a mess of floor all over the kitchen counter was not good for your heart, nor the way he chuckled in that deep and low voice tone of his, hoping he did not notice the way your knees bucked.

a hand comes to hold your wrist, so gentle, “knead like this” and his voice is right against your ear, warm breath sending shivers down your spine and heat pooling in your lower abdomen as he guides the motions, yet your eyes are glued to the way his hand veins pop with each squeeze, would he knead your ass the same way? and also... is his cock that veiny too?

with that thought in mind, you barely buck your hips back, pretending to change the weight from one foot to another when, in reality, you purposely brushed your butt with his crotch.

and Kento notices, his hands stopping for a brief second before resuming, and you move again, almost like a dance to see who would snap first, although each buck and brush is more bold than the previous, that until a large and veiny hand squeezes your hip, there it is.

“stay still” his voice is low and almost a rumble, feeling the warmth of his chest near your back through the thin layers of clothes.

that should not turn you on as much as it did, feeling slightly embarrassed from being caught and stopped that you unconsciously squirm again, and of course, your butt now lands right against Kento’s tenting crotch, feeling the tip poking on a cheek, “shit...” your moan is weak, unable to stop from full on grinding against his cock, to which his hands grip you tighter, the dough long forgotten.

“don’t... do that...” Kento’s words are strained, barely holding on from the urge to just bend you over and fuck you senseless, truth is he saw you grow up, but he also witnessed how you became the nature and sexy girl you are now, “this is wrong”

but his name sounds so cutely from you, that soft, mewled, and needy “Kento...” is just enough to break him.

the sticky mess of flour and water remaining on the kitchen counter sticks to the back of your shirt, it will be a pain to wash it, but meh, that should be another day’s worry, currently, your only focus is the man between your legs, keeping you as spread as ever, with your feet propped up the counter, leggings pulled down and that condom clad cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, and yes, it’s very fucking veiny.

“this is what you wanted, didn’t you?” his words are huffed from the effort of thrusting mercilessly inside your hole, with a hand on the apex of your thigh to keep your lips open, and the other laying on a jiggling tit, “to get fucked by an older man, I saw the way you look at me, sweetheart, you’re not subtle”

that just makes you clench and mewl, getting caught drooling over the man was utterly hot and even excited he knew just how much you wanted him in your guts like now, “c-can’t help it, you’re— ngh, t-tooo hot!” it’s like you’re losing consciousness with each drag of those throbbing veins against your walls, the friction so fucking delicious and deep, oh so deep, curving just perfectly to drive you insane.

“you’re so hot too” he praises, the words so unfamiliar coming from those lips, adding to the lust filled expression of an almost pussy drunk man, “you’ve grown beautifully” and his words are like his hands, caressing your body with heat leaving on its wake until it lays on your fluttering abdomen, “so sexy, so tight and wet”

“just for you” you moan around your own fingers, sucking the digits to leave them soaked and rub tight circles on your swollen clit, it’s a vision that makes Kento’s cock twitch and splurt another drop of pre inside the condom.

Kento, the always impecable and polite man that fucks so nasty and kisses as equally lewd, gripping your jaw with a hand and a tongue comes to rub all across your sweet mouth, swallowing the desperate pleas and “i’m cumming” mumbles before you’re a sobbing mess and Kento is stuffing the condom full of creamy semen that, hopefully, will stuff your pussy bare someday.

𝜗𝜚 SATORU

“is it really necessary?” you complain for what feels like the fourth time that exact same day, your parents don’t get it, of course they don’t, you were doing just fine with your classes, and if the grades were barely above the requirement to pass, so what? at least you were not struggling in college.

“is that boy’s fault,” your mom says from the back, arms crossed and a scowl on her face, “i told you he is a bad influence and still you did not listen! now your grades are a mess, it’s like our money for your tuition is going to waste” ah yes, your filthy rich parents money, that money was almost spare cash for them.

“don’t bring my boyfriend in this, it’s not his fault” you attempt to defend the little honor your lover had, which, honestly, he did not deserve, he was the worst kind of man you couldn’t have ever fallen for, uninterested, having you crawl behind him, but he had a big dick and a bike, sigh.

“i don’t care, you’re going to have Mr. Gojo tutor you, you like it or not”

Satoru Gojo or Mr. Gojo, your also filthy rich neighbor who just traveled around the world with god knows what money, what would he even know?

the sound of your foot tapping on the floor could tick anyone, but your stupid boyfriend hasn’t responded to any text since yesterday, and you’re two minutes away from making the long and boring walk to your next door’s neighbor house, so long and boring.

you curse and grab your bag way too hastily, you’re sick of this, utterly pissed off, and sadly Mr. Gojo will have to turn into your punching bag.

one or twice is the times you’ve seen the man, he was barely at home or your schedules never met, but damn, he was hot.

tall, broad, with soft white hair that fell on his eyes and made him look younger than he was, bright blue eyes to contrast and ridiculously long legs and hands. somehow you’re a bit speechless as he asks you to come in, taking the surroundings of his home and the family picture frames hanging off the walls, not a woman in sight, strange.

“where is your wife?” mouth works faster than the brain, but Satoru does not mind, giving you a smirk from over his shoulder.

“i don’t have a wife, my kids were adopted” damn, that makes it harder for you to hate on this man.

deciding not to pry even more into the topic you just follow him to the living room, a bunch of history books are splayed in the coffee table so you sit next to the man in one of the large, leather couches.

“your parents say you’re struggling with Japanese periods, yes? Meiji, Heian...”

this was going to be long, “yeah, whatever, why do I even have to learn about all that? it’s in the past, who cares” your attention was drifting again, pulling out your phone and tapping harshly on the screen, no messages, “fuck”

“hey, focus here, princess, leave your phone aside” the sudden shiver that runs down your spine at the nickname is somehow drowned down by a rush of annoyance, you were already in a bad mood and now this man was telling you what to do? fuck this.

“don’t tell me what to do! it’s not as if i wanted to come here in the first place” with a leg crossed over the other your head turns, puffing your cheeks like a spoiled brat.

and again, your eyes drop to your phone.

“hm, I see how it is” yet he’s not mad, more like... amused, and before you realize it he’s snatching your phone that happened to be unlocked, “who’s sukuna?”

“give me that!” you squeak, trying to grab your phone back but Satoru is already scrolling through endless embarrassing texts and multiple nudes you’ve sent.

he clicks his tongue in return, “oh, babygirl, you don’t know how to pick a man, do you?” he coos, almost as if he’s mocking you, and before you realize it, you’re being dragged to his lap, a hand on the small of your back and the other on a bare knee, “tsk, tsk, a sweet thing like you deserve much better, a real man who can please you” his smirk almost makes you moan, adding to the way his long and slender fingers trailed up your thigh to brush the edge of the panties you wore, which were almost ruined at this point.

“boys your age don’t know how to satisfy a girl like you”

the previous heated exchange is not turned into moans echoing in the room, Satoru is so fuckin’ big and long, making your eyes cross and tongue loll out with each drag of his cock inside your walls, he has you spread, with your thighs swinging over his forearms, chest on your back and his lips on your neck, giving you the fuck of your life while at the same time being treated like a fleshlight.

the man is big, big muscles and a big cock that struggles to push past the resistance inside your cunt, but it’s so worthy once it’s in, successfully finding your g spot within seconds of pounding.

“that’s a good girl, yeah, keep moaning, babygirl, your cunt is perfect around my cock” how could this man speak so lewd and freely while rearranging your guts, voice unaffected but the throb and twitch of his cock proved otherwise, “i haven’t fucked a pussy this damn tight, you’re sucking me in, ah fuck— greedy young cunt”

“nghh! haagh f-uck Sa-ah toru!” what a mess, mess of babbling nonsense and a mess of slick and precum dripping down to pool between your legs and onto the couch, the creamy sound of your pussy dragging you and down is just growing with how wetter you get, creating a ring of pearly cum around the base of Satoru’s fat cock filling your insides.

your phone rings, but who fuckin’ cares? your boyfriend is in the past, and now having a tutor is not that entirely bad.

[bakug0uzb1thc]

I've been an silent reader for a while and i love your writing btw, could i request a childhood female reader x bakugo where he has some weird obsession with her boobs but like in a non perverted way? Of course, only if you're comfortable!!!

10/10 request > ᵕ <

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

With you and Katsuki being friends for so long it was no surprise that he has seen more than he should. Or felt around (sounds so bad omg.) and it’s not even in a perverted way it’s just because you’re comfortable enough.

In middle school when you hit puberty it was like the reality of you being a girl hit him and he wasn’t sure how to feel. His best friend was a girl and she was getting boobs, they no longer could throw their shirts off and run around in the sprinklers or even chill out shirtless. It weirdly fascinated him how you had to wear bras and the fascination only grew with age.

The bigger your cup size got the bigger the the urge he had to look at them. he had to hold himself back numerous time from reaching a hand out to feel them, well until one day—

You both were home alone (risky) but his parents were fine with it from you guys being friends since preschool and they trusted the both of you enough not to do anything crazy while they were out. 

You had caught Bakugou staring more then once but it was different now that you both were in high school and both your hormones were on an all time high.

“You wanna feel them?” You turned your body towards his side of the couch after catching his frustrated eyes staring at your breasts as if he had a personal grudge against them.

“Huh?” He physically jumped at your offer, trying to make eye contact with you but the way you looked for his response made a deep blush paint across his cheeks. “I always see you staring, if you want to touch them just ask?” The way you slid it so casually by him made it feel like it wasn’t such a bad thing, like it was something normal.

He didn’t want to admit his interest in them, he didn’t want to scare you off by being a pervert either but most of all he didn’t want to say ‘yes’ for you to just laugh in his face.

“why would i want to do that.” He scoffed looking away, the blush still very present on his dusted cheeks.

Though you had other plans.

Creeping your way across the couch you grab his hand and guide it to your chest, it wasn’t a tight grip and it wasn’t forceful he could pull away if he wanted to; but he didn’t. You put his hand on your chest and almost on instinct he squeezed. It wasn’t hard or demanding, it was soft and cautious. unexperienced.

The blush that was once taking up rent on his face faded, his normally frustrated eyes dropped into more of a intrigued expression. The years of buildup and anticipation finally settled within him and he felt content.

“see, just had to ask—” You said returning his hands back to his sides, casually plopping yourself back in the spot you sat prior to the event. “next time don’t wait 3 years.” You jokingly scoffed at his dumbfounded look.

“Huh- WAIT YOU SAW?”

(sorry i did this so lazily ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡)



[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi, there! I've seen you're asking for some Thunderbolts requests, so: what about the reader and Bob having to share a bed during a mission, having both big crushes for each other? No pressure at all, only if you like the idea ☺️ thank you!!

a/n: Ah yes the one bed trope, one i love reading but never got around to writing. Okay so i didn't know if you wanted it to be a smut but i ended making it one 😬 hope that's okay. Also thanks for the request and enjoy!

Bob Reynolds X Reader: No room for secrets.

Warnings: smut, one bed trope, mutual pinning, forced proximity, wet dream, injuries (not graphic), kissing, Bob being a sweetheart, penetration (p in v ), cowgirl, handjob, kind of subby Bob, fluff, cute ending, no use of y/n.

Word count: 4.3K (i am so fucking sorry)

You were going to kill Valentina.

You’d stumbled into the room, half-walking, half-dragging yourself inside. The mission you'd just finished had been successful, but you didn’t get out completely unscathed. You felt like shit, and all you wanted to do was lie down and pass out.

And you were planning to—until you saw your room.

You and Bob always shared a room. It was just how things ended up being organized. Ava and Yelena got a room, Bucky and John shared another, and Alexei slept alone—because the Russian's snores made it impossible for anyone else to fall asleep in the same room. That left you paired up with Bob. It didn’t bother you. Bob was sweet and quiet. He kept to himself and didn’t talk in his sleep. He was practically the perfect roommate.

The only thing was that you each slept in your own twin bed. Space and privacy—well, as much privacy as you could get while sharing a room.

You stared at the queen bed in front of you, doing your best not to let your face show how pissed you were. You were failing miserably, of course. Anyone who walked into the room could tell you were angry.

You turned to face the door just as Bob walked in. He had a bag of chips in his hand, which told you he’d stopped to raid the snack machine on the way. He walked in, a small smile gracing his features.

And then he noticed your expression, and his smile shifted into a look of confusion.

You didn’t even bother saying anything, opting instead to just point at the bed. Bob moved closer to you, the bed finally coming into his line of sight. It took him a moment to realize the problem, his eyebrows rising as he finally understood the issue.

You sighed. You needed to calm down before doing anything else. Poor Bob wasn’t the subject of your anger, so you weren’t going to make him a victim of it.

“I need a shower,” you muttered, moving to grab your bag from the floor. “We can figure this out after we clean up, okay?”

You turned to Bob, who was still staring at the bed. He looked at you and gave a small nod.

“O-okay.”

You took your sweet time in the shower. Washing off the grime from the mission was easy; the problem was the thousands of little cuts and bruises littered all over your body. Every movement hurt a bit, and the soap stung wherever it found your skin. Still, you managed to get cleaned up.

You walked out of the bathroom, releasing a wave of steam as you stepped back into the room. Bob was sitting in the armchair, eyes glued to the TV as he finished his chips.

“Bathroom’s free. If you wanna clean up.”

Bob shifted his focus to you as soon as he heard your voice. He stared for a moment. You kept patting your hair dry with the towel as he observed you.

Bob couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked. You were in what he guessed were your pajamas, your hair still damp from the shower, beads of water sliding down your skin. It felt awfully… homey, seeing you like this. So casual. So close. He was having a hard time stopping his mind from spinning a thousand scenarios of what it would be like to be with you—really be with you.

“Bob?”

You tilted your head slightly, your voice laced with a light note of concern. He’d been staring too long, and the questioning tone made it clear you’d noticed.

He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present.

“Sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”

“It’s okay. I left enough warm water for you. And there’s an extra towel by the sink.”

Bob’s heart fluttered at the thought that you’d cared enough to make sure he could have a warm shower—and had even laid out a towel for him. He stood, brushing crumbs off his lap before heading to the bathroom. You watched him disappear behind the door, and only then did you let out a breath. That look he’d given you… It wasn’t nothing. It couldn’t be.

You picked up the remote leaning on the edge of the bed as you flipped through the channels. Your head snapped over to the bathroom as you heard the shower come to life. Your eyes continued glued to the door for a moment, the documentary about baby otters suddenly forgotten. your mind kept drifting to Bob, standing just a few feet away, behind a thin door. Wet. Shirtless.

You sighed, shaking your head, forcing yourself to focus on the tv before you. You remembered you needed to pass some medicine in the worse cuts you’d gotten so you bussied yourself with that. 

The water shut off after a while. You tried very hard not to glance up every time a sound came from the bathroom, tried not to count how long it was taking him to come out.

Then the door creaked open.

And there he was.

Bob stepped out, steam curling around his tall frame, hair damp and tousled, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower. He wore nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, clinging to his hips in a way that felt... unfair.

Bob lifted his eyes from the floor, expecting to find you dressed and relaxing on the bed.

He was not expecting what he saw instead.

You were shirtless, hands resting on your ribs, mouth slightly parted as you looked up at him. He froze mid-step, caught off guard, eyes dragging across your bare skin before he could stop himself.

You stared too—eyes tracing the lines of his body, still damp, still only wrapped in a towel.

And then, almost simultaneously, you both seemed to snap out of it.

You scrambled to cover yourself, suddenly realizing how exposed you were. Bob’s eyes widened as color flooded his cheeks. He turned sharply, head ducking as he tried to look anywhere but at you.

“Oh—sorry,” he blurted out, gripping the towel tighter with one hand. “I, uh, forgot my clothes in my bag. Wasn’t expecting you to be…”

His voice trailed off again as his gaze accidentally flicked back to you. He immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.

“You’re fine,” you said quickly, though your throat felt bone-dry. Your heart was pounding way too loud in your ears.

In your hand, the medicine tube you'd been holding slipped slightly as you clenched your fingers too tightly around it. A glob of the ointment squirted out and plopped onto the floor. Bob made his way to his bag as you let out a soft curse moving to scoop it up with your finger. Behind you, you heard the faint rustle of fabric as he changed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep your expression neutral.

“Do you need any?”

“Sorry—what?”

Bob turned to look at you, realizing you were carefully keeping your back to him as he changed.

“I’m dressed,” he said gently. “You can turn around.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes immediately catching on Bob’s still very bare abs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—but then, he never did when he slept. He ran hot, so he opted for fewer layers. You knew that from all the nights you'd shared a room with him. It had never been an issue before.

But now, the idea of lying next to him, just inches away from that warm skin, was going to be a problem.

“Are there any cuts that need ointment?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself.

“Oh, no, I…” He trailed off mid-sentence, looking a little sheepish. “I don’t get cut.”

You shook your head at yourself. Right. Of course he didn’t. He was incredibly powerful, despite having the most innocent face you’d ever seen. You were so used to looking out for him, you sometimes forgot he could bend metal with his bare hands.

“Sorry, I forgot.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s… nice. That you, you know—” he shrugged slightly “—that you care enough to ask.”

“Of course I do, Bob. You’re my teammate. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Bob desperately needed you to stop talking to him like that. The warmth in your voice, the way you said his name—it was doing things to his head. Dangerous things. He gave you a small smile, his eyes drifting over your skin almost unconsciously.

You felt his gaze like a physical thing—soft, warm, reverent. You weren’t even sure he realized how he was looking at you, but it was doing things to you. Things it probably shouldn’t.

“You have one on your back.”

You blinked, needing a second to catch up.

“I do?”

You tried to twist around and look, searching for the injury.

“You probably can’t see it,” Bob said. “It’s like… right in the middle of your back.”

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then pushed himself to keep talking.

“I can get it for you. If you want.”

You couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at your lips. Oh, this man is going to be the death of me.

“That’d be great, Bob. Thank you.”

You handed him the medicine and turned around. Bob squeezed a little onto his fingers—the cut wasn’t big, so he didn’t need much. Your skin tingled in anticipation as you waited for him to touch you. And when he finally did, you shivered. Partly because his hand was cool against your back and partly because it was him.

Bob’s fingers were gentle, almost too gentle, as he smoothed the ointment over the cut. The pressure was light, careful . His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to.

You felt it.

The pause. The heat.

Your breath caught for just a moment.

Then his fingertips brushed down slightly, like he was checking to make sure the ointment had spread properly. It wasn’t necessary—but he didn’t stop. And neither did you.

Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “You okay back there?”

Bob's hand stilled.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, his voice softer than usual. “It’s just… hard to focus when you’re this close.”

That pulled your attention.

You turned your head, just slightly—enough to catch the faint flush spreading across his cheeks. His eyes were still on your back, but they kept flicking down, then away, like he couldn’t decide if he was allowed to look.

“We’ve shared rooms before,” you said gently, teasing. “We’ve slept five feet from each other for months.”

“Yeah,” he said, almost laughing. “But never like this.”

“I can take the floor.”

You’d been thinking about it for a while. You didn’t want to sleep on the floor—you wanted to sleep in the soft bed, preferably next to him. But you also wanted to be considerate.

You knew Bob had some issues with physical touch. He wasn’t opposed to it, but sometimes, when you caught him off guard, you’d see the way he flinched slightly—instinctively—before realizing you weren’t going to hurt him. Years of abuse would do that to a person.

Of course, you didn’t say any of this. You didn’t have to. Bob knew exactly why you’d offered. And still, he couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that filled his chest.

You were always doing stuff like this. Opting to help him out even when you had other things to do. You’d help with the dishes. You’d hang around with him in the living room, even though he was sure you could be using your time much better with training. Every time you could be near him, you chose to be. Bob tried to play it off as just your personality, but a small part of him knew better. 

You weren’t like that with everyone.

You were like that with him.

“I know you like your personal space,” you added softly.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized how long he’d been silent, his hand still resting gently against your back. The ointment had been absorbed long ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Couldn’t bring himself to let go.

“I don’t mind,” he said, barely above a whisper. “If we share.”

You closed your eyes, your body relaxing instantly at his words.

You were glad he felt safe with you. You were really glad you wouldn’t be spending the night on the cold floor. You were glad that you’d sleep beside him tonight. It would probably be the last time you’d ever get a chance like this. So yes, maybe a bit selfishly, you were happy  you’d be sharing the bed.

You turned around to face Bob. He shifted his hand down, resting it against his stomach. You took in the look on his face, your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, to the flushed skin of his neck. And then you turned to look at the bed, choosing to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay. So how are we doing this?”

It had taken you a total of five minutes to figure everything out. Bob liked sleeping on the left, you liked sleeping on the right—so that was easy. You’d offered to make a pillow wall for Bob’s comfort. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary.

The two of you entered the bed, each settling on your respective side. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Bob did the same.

A small yawn escaped your mouth before you could stop it. Bob turned his head to look at you, smiling at your sleepy face.

“I’ll get the light.”

You gave him a small smile before turning onto your side.

“Good night, Bob.”

“Good night.”

Darkness took over the room.

Falling asleep was easy for Bob. Keeping his mind clear, on the other hand, was not.

The dream had started simply. He could see your face, a small smile on it as you looked at him. And then it shifted. Your brows furrowed as you let out a soft groan. He was beneath you, hands resting on your hips as you moved. The sight was beautiful. He could live inside this dream.

Unfortunately, his body was beginning to betray him.

You felt him shift before you heard him. You turned your head to glance over your shoulder, eyes catching on Bob’s shaking frame. Your first thought was that he was having a nightmare. You knew it was a common occurrence, so you didn’t startle. You turned around, your hand reaching to touch his shoulder—when he let out a soft whimper of your name.

Your hand froze midair, breath catching.

He said it again. Clearer now.

Bob was dreaming. Dreaming of you. And by the sound of it, the dream was far from innocent.

You wanted desperately to keep listening—but you felt like a creep. So, instead, you gently tugged at him, trying to wake him up.

Bob was pulled out of his dream rather quickly.

He gasped, eyes flying open as he jerked upright. Disoriented, breath shallow, chest rising and falling. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on you—watching him with concern, still half-leaning over him.

“Hey,” you said softly, your hand brushing his arm. “You okay?”

Bob blinked a few times, swallowing hard. His face flushed deep red as memory rushed back in. The dream. Your voice. Your name on his lips.

Oh god.

“I—I’m sorry,” he muttered, sinking back onto the pillow and turning his face toward the wall. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Bob.”

You said his name firmly, gently, and his eyes hesitantly flicked back to you. You didn’t look disgusted. You didn’t look uncomfortable. If anything, you looked…curious. A little breathless.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You were dreaming.”

He nodded, ashamed.

“Was it… about me?”

Bob hesitated, then gave the smallest nod.

You paused. Your heart pounded. And then, barely above a whisper: “Was I… any good?”

That made him look at you. Really look at you. His lips parted, unsure what to say. You were smiling—soft and teasing, but your eyes were serious.

Bob swallowed hard. “Too good,” he said.

And suddenly, you were very aware of how close the two of you were. Of the warmth between you in the bed. Of everything unsaid that had built up over weeks, months. Your hand slid gently onto his chest. You hesitated for a second, eyes boring into Bobs. You could feel his chest rise and fall against your palm. You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that you were really about to do this. 

“Do you want to find out for real?”

Bob's breath caught.

You saw it in the way his lips parted, the way his fingers flexed slightly against the sheets, like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or ground himself.

He swallowed thickly. “Are you sure?”

His voice was low, hoarse, barely above a whisper—but it still managed to send a shiver down your spine. You leaned in just a little closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered:

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”

That was all it took.

Bob surged forward, one hand cupping your cheek as his mouth met yours—tentative at first, like he was still afraid you might vanish. But when you kissed him back, firm and hungry, something in him snapped. His hand slid into your hair, the other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you fully against him. You took the hint, climbing onto his waist as you settled on top of him. Bob whined into the kiss as you grazed his hard on. 

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” you whispered against the corner of his mouth.

He gave a soft, embarrassed laugh and nodded, eyes fluttering closed as your hands moved across his stomach. “I—yeah. I didn’t think you’d ever…”

You cut him off with a firmer kiss this time, one hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck, the other resting just above the waistband of his shorts. 

“You think too much Bob. Just focus on the feeling.”

Your palm slipped inside his shorts and he groaned, head raising up as he did. The action caused his neck to be on full display for you. You took it as an opportunity to kiss him there. Your hand found his dick, fingers moving over the head as you littered his neck with wet kisses. Then slowly you shifted your grip, allowing you to begin stroking him.  

Bob’s breath hitched—sharp and shaky—as your hand moved along his length. He whimpered, his hips bucking ever so slightly against your touch, chasing the friction. You could feel how desperate he already was, how quickly he was unraveling under your attention. It felt better than any drug. The sight of him panting slightly as his brows furrowed made you grind your hips down on him. 

“God—” he gasped, clutching at your waist, trying and failing to keep still beneath you.

The sound caused you to smile.

“Am i as good as you dreamed?”

Bob gaspsed, mind trying to form a coherent thought to answer you.

“So much better.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded before letting out a small moan. You shifted around, tugging his dick free from his shorts so you could stroke him better. The cold air on his dick made him shudder but your warm hand dulled the shift slightly. His hands were still on the bed beside him. Almost as if he was afraid to touch you without asking.

“You can touch me too, you know? If you want to.”

That was all he needed. Whatever resistance he had left crumbled at those words. His hands found your thighs, holding you tightly as if he still couldn’t quite believe this was real. You leaned down to kiss him again, slower this time, your hand never faltering in its rhythm. He moaned into your mouth, every sound he made going straight to your core. You rocked against him gently, your own arousal growing with every twitch of his hips beneath you.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against your lips, his voice shaky with awe.

You smiled, brushing your nose gently against his. “You do too,” you whispered. “You’re perfect, Bob.”

His eyes searched yours like he couldn’t quite believe this was real—like any second he expected to wake up. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye, grounding him.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted softly, heart fluttering as the words left your mouth. “Not just this—us.”

Bob swallowed hard, hands still resting on your thighs like he was afraid to grab too tight, afraid he’d break the moment. “Me too. God, me too.”

Your breath caught, and you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, lingering—like you had all the time in the world. Your hand still stroked him gently, feeling every twitch, every little reaction as you poured everything into that kiss. Bob let out the softest whine, hips jerking involuntarily into your grip. 

“I wanna feel you. Please, I need—”

You shifted your hips, clothed cunt rubbing against your hand and stimulating his dick. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nodded frantically, his voice nearly gone. 

“Yes. Yes, please.”

You leaned down again, kissing him slow and deep. Then you shifted your hips back, just enough to push your underwear to the side and line yourself up.You both gasped at the feeling, completely overwhelmed. He filled you perfectly, and you stayed still for a moment, letting the warmth of him settle deep inside you.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bob whispered, his thumbs brushing over your skin like he was memorizing you.

You clenched around him, hips begging to quicken their pace. Bob's hands slid up to your waist, holding on like he might float away otherwise. His hips bucked up to meet yours every time you moved. The desperation was growing inside both of you. You wanted to take it slow, wanted to show Bob just how much you felt for him. But the need for him was stronger than you could control. Bob didn’t seem to mind, blabbering beneath you as you sped up. Your hands found their way to his chest, using him as leverage to lift yourself up before dropping down again. Bob groaned, his hands tightening just slightly on your waist. 

“You’re all I ever think about,” he confessed, eyes squeezed shut like the truth hurt in the best way. “Not just like this. Always.”

The words hit you hard in the chest, and your movements stuttered for just a moment. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then his jaw. You were overwhelmed, full to the brim with him—his scent, his voice, his body.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re everything.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as your bodies moved in tandem. You buried your face in his neck, moaning quietly as each thrust made your core tighten and your breath grow shorter.

You could feel it building—slow and sweet. Not just the orgasm, but everything. The connection, the weight of unspoken feelings, the years of dancing around this. You were both trembling under the intensity.

“I’m close,” you breathed, a little desperate now, your hips moving with more urgency.

“Me too,” Bob gasped, clutching you tighter. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

And you didn’t. You clung to each other like lifelines, chasing the high with trembling hands and whispered names, until it hit—hard and soft at the same time. A release that was more than physical. You came with a cry muffled against his neck, and Bob followed soon after, gasping your name like it was the only thing he knew.

When it was over, you stayed there, pressed together in the quiet, his hands still stroking your back gently, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

You stayed like that for a long time—foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the dark. Neither of you said anything at first, too wrapped up in the moment to break it with words. His hands never stopped moving, slow sweeps down your spine like he was trying to soothe you, ground you, or maybe himself.

Eventually, you stirred, gently lifting yourself off him with a soft hiss. Bob held your hips to steady you, eyes filled with concern.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. 

“Yeah. Just tender.

He gave you a tired, tender smile that melted something deep inside you. You shifted off to the side, reaching for the blanket to pull over both of you. Bob curled closer instinctively, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other tucking beneath his cheek like a sleepy child. You ran your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter shut, a soft hum of contentment leaving his lips.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured against your shoulder

“Me too.”

He smiled against your skin. 

“Good. 'Cause I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart skipped, breath catching. You pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“You are?”

He nodded, shy but sure. 

“Yeah. I think I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.”

You smiled, your chest aching in the most beautiful way. “Then we’re in the same boat.”

Relief washed over his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. He leaned in to kiss you again—slow and deep, with nothing rushed or frenzied. Just warmth. Just certainty.

When you finally pulled apart, you tucked yourself into his side, your fingers laced with his beneath the sheets.

And in the quiet stillness of the room, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the weight of everything finally lifted. You both drifted to sleep.

Maybe you wouldn’t kill Valentina after all. Maybe you’d just tell her to book a room with one bed for you and Bob. For future reference. 

[lolab4t]

safe together - fluff, angst

pairing: bob reynolds x thunderbolt!gn!reader summary: you’re benched with a broken ankle, stuck in the tower while the rest of the team is out on a mission. the only one left behind with you is bob. what starts as awkward company and bob acting like your nurse slowly turns into something deeper, safe, and comforting. word count: 5.8k warning(s): light thunderbolts* spoilers, angst, fluff, brief nightmare , implied trauma, mentions of the void and past trauma related to him, injury (broken ankle), mutual pining, emotional vulnerability, awkwardness, reader likes to read (lol) a/n: finally wrote for my sweet boy! yelena fic is prob coming next... i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please feel free to like, comment, or reblog! <3 also, requests are open!

chihiro - billie eilish

you hated it. sitting on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket, leg propped up on a pillow. you felt guilty for feeling so comfy. you felt lazy. like you were wasting time.

you had broken your ankle, and found yourself in a boot, unable to walk. so of course, you were forced to sit out of a mission.

bob, who was used to staying back, was clearly excited to have some company for once. he didn't admit to it, but it was obvious. the tower always felt so cold and lonely to him when the team was gone. he always tried to distract himself with books and chores, but none of it compared to having you there with him.

now, he seemed to be glued to your side, staying near you on the couch. still shy, still quiet, still careful not to hover too obviously. he didn’t say much, only asked how your pain was doing or what you needed. every now and then he'd glance over at you, like he was checking to make sure you were still okay. he was acting a little like your nurse. it was sweet.

"do you, uh… need some water or anything?" he looked at you for only a second, before directing his gaze back to the tv. his voice was quiet and hesitant.

you looked up for your book and smiled. "no, i'm fine. thank you though, bobby."

bobby.

he originally hated the nickname when walker called him that. but when you started using it… he grew to love it. maybe he just didn't like walker.

he didn’t respond, and just gave a tiny nod, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile.

you adjusted your blanket again and looked back down at the book in your lap. it was your favorite, one you'd read a million times. but this time, you found yourself rereading the same lines over in your head… your thoughts kept wandering. to your ankle. to the mission the others were on. and to him. quiet, careful, sweet bob, sitting beside you like your own personal shadow.

he watched you like you were something fragile. something important. it made you feel… safe. which was ironic, considering the darkness that everyone knew was hidden inside him.

the void.

he sat there, still as ever, arms folded loosely in his lap. he glanced over at the book that seemed to be stealing all of your attention.

his voice was quiet again, cracking a little at the end. “what book, uhm— what book are you reading?”

you looked up and closed it gently, turning it to show him the cover. “it’s my favorite.”

he blinked, leaning in a little. “really?”

you nodded, watching the way he scanned the cover. he seemed interested in it. he was interested in it because you liked it.

"do you wanna borrow it?" you asked, not sure if he would want to.

his eyes lifted from the cover to your face, surprised.

"are you sure? i don't want to take it if you're reading it…" he rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

"i've read it a dozen times. take it. i think you'd like it." you smiled as he finally accepted it, holding it in his lap like it was something precious.

you don’t remember much after that. you must’ve dozed off, giving into the sense of comfort and safety you were feeling.

what you do remember is the nightmare you had. it was painful, full of the memories and wounds that had been reopened when you went into the void about a year before.

when you blinked awake, you were sitting up, sweating and panicked. the room was dimmer now. it had likely only been a few hours.

and bob was still there. he was already leaning forward, not crowding you, just close enough that you could see the worry in his face.

"you okay?" he asked gently, scanning your face for any answers.

you swallowed hard, finally catching your breath. you wanted to say yes. you wanted to pretend it was nothing.

“nightmare?” he asked before you could speak, "i get those too."

you nodded slowly. “yeah. probably the painkillers.” you let out a half-hearted chuckle.

he hesitated for a second, then reached out, lightly brushing your hand where it lay on your lap.

“can i…?”

you didn’t know what exactly he was offering but you nodded anyway. he carefully took your hand in both of his. his palms were warm. steady.

"sometimes just knowing you're not alone can help." he smiled softly.

for a moment, comfortable silence stretched between you. then he gave a small, awkward laugh, pulling away slightly.

“sorry. i’m... probably making this worse, huh?”

you shook your head, managing a tired smile. “no, it’s… nice. thanks, bobby.”

he looked down at your hands, squeezing gently. “nightmares suck.”

“yeah,” you whispered, “but having you here is making it a little less… bad.” you giggled quietly.

he glanced up, eyes soft. “i’m glad i could help.”

you took a deep breath, letting the tension ease out of your shoulders. your eye caught sight of the book, sitting behind him on the couch.

“so,” you gestured to it, trying to lighten the mood, “have you started reading it?"

he looked surprised, then grinned sheepishly, letting go of your hands to grab it. “i, uh, already finished it." he held it out to you.

you blinked in shock, taking it, "finished it?" you opened the book, flipping through the pages.

bob had left pieces of post-its on almost every page, full of handwritten notes. you stared at them in a stunned silence for a second, then let out a soft laugh. “you annotated it?” you asked, shocked... but touched.

he looked flustered, cheeks turning just a little pink. “i—yeah. sorry, i should’ve asked first. i just… i kept thinking about how you loved it so much, and i wanted to understand why… i wanted to remember what stood out. i’ll take them out if—”

“no,” you interrupted, clutching the book a little closer. “don’t. i think i love it even more now.”

he blinked, clearly surprised by your reaction. then smiled, just barely.

for the first time in a while, you both felt comfortable and safe. with each other.

thanks so much for reading <3 as always, requests are open

[yoiisa]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

true form! sukuna, vaginal sex, dirty talk, toxic feminization, concubine! reader turned "wife", praise, dirty talk, mentions of injury (non-sex related)

genuinely cannot explain how this started, but for the past month i've had the worst crush on ryomen sukuna ever oml!!

no because like genuinely picture this: heian era, true form sukuna, living in a home where concubines are always coming and going. some of them he kills, some of them just run away when his violence becomes too much. he can hardly keep track of them all.

then one day, he's walking through the courtyard when he spots you, kneeling next to a tiny pond, feeding the koi some of your food. your hair falling in front of your face, your kimono sleeves brushing up against the water and getting wet. however, the main thing that attracts sukuna's attention is the tiny smile you have on his face. it appears when you catch him staring at you, and is accompanied by a deep bow.

he's a violent man, so he's practically never been met with any kind of grace such as yourself. just like that though, you've earned his favor. it only grows the more time he spends with you. you are soft and gentle, you bloom under his attention like a flower in the sun, and you're so eager to please. he brings you more often to his chambers where he takes his fill of your every night, imagining you as his wife.

"yes, fuck, yes," he groans, tossing his head back as you bounce on his length. "feel it? deep inside of you?" he slaps his other cock on your ass as you ride him magnificently.

"yes my lord!" you gasp, digging indents into his shoulders. "ah~! 'ts so deep!!"

the night after he firsts claims you, he requests that uraume move all of your personal belongings into his room, and he gives you direct orders to live and sleep in his rooms from now on. of course you oblige, being the obedient thing that you are.

he's a prince to you. where he is crass and cruel to the other concubines, he is silent and soft with you. his hands are gentle as they pat you when you pour him tea, or pull you into his side as he eats his meals.

there's one time when an attack on his home starts, and rioting villagers set the building on fire. sukuna disposes of the men as quickly as they come and he's relatively unconcerned with the damage done to any of the other women there, but that all changes the minute he notices you're missing.

the rage that ensues is enough to the put the fire of the rioters to shame. he slaughters women by the dozen, screaming at them for their lack of accountability.

"how could you not keep track of one of your own?! Oh, no, she's not one of you pathetic whores! FIND HER NOW!"

eventually uraume appears, carrying you on his back. he sets you down at sukuna's feet, your body injured and covered in soot. sukuna shuts himself up in his new room with you for a week, refusing anyone but uraume to come in to tend to you and him.

"my flower, can you hear me?" he asks, feeding medicine to you in a tiny cup. when you nod, he breathes a sigh of relief. he kisses your forehead and rests you down on the futon to get some sleep. "my brave girl. do not fret. whoever caused this shall pay ten fold."

eventually his favor with you grows to be so powerful that he completely neglects all his other concubines. he has you why would he need them? they trickle out of his house one by one in search of another man, but he does not care in the slightest.

he barely even notices their absence because every night, he finds himself buried deep inside your heat, pounding into you like there's no tomorrow. his four hands splaying across your flesh, groping your breasts, pulling your hair, and squeezing your hips. his stomach tongue licking the salty sweat from your skin, relishing in a sensation that's so uniquely you.

"m-my lord," you whine as he pulls your chest flush against his.

"ryomen, my flower," he corrects. he growls, his hips snapping into yours. "fuck- this pussy . . . how can you be so tight still, even after i've plucked every petal from your innocence?"

you writhe in his arms, the pleasure mounting. "I . . . I . . . mmmmm, haaaahhh~"

"my little wife is close, isn't she?" he chuckles as you nod vigorously to his question. "then come."

you explode, your back arching as his lips trail across your collarbone and neck.

a/n: what can I say? A girl must goon every now and again

[chuluoyi]

𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

- zayne x reader

he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness

note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru

07.15 p.m

Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.

“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”

Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”

“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”

He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.

“Alright.”

. . .

08.25 p.m

Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.

The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.

It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—

He was supposed to meet you at six.

If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.

You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.

The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.

And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.

“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.

You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.

Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.

“Hello, Zayne?”

“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”

“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”

“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”

“I’ve already arrived.”

An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.

You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”

“Yeah...”

“Take care then. See you at home.”

You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.

Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.

It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?

At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.

Your marriage has always been lukewarm.

Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.

Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.

“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”

. . .

“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”

Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”

You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”

Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.

“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”

You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.

“I will then.”

“No.”

“Y/N, you—”

“Shut up, Xavier—”

The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.

When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”

His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.

Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.

. . .

The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.

You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.

"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."

"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"

He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.

"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."

Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."

"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"

"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."

His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.

“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”

“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“

“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”

“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”

“Believe me, I do but—!”

Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”

He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.

His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.

The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.

Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.

And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.

For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.

“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”

You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.

That was when your first tear fell.

Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.

To her.

You two are too much alike.

It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.

On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.

Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.

Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.

After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.

And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.

. . .

"How much is this?"

"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"

Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.

He thought it'd suit you well.

"I'll get this then."

"Right away!"

As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.

Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—

"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.

There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.

It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.

"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.

Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."

You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"

"Mm-hm. It's getting better."

"I'll have a look at it later."

"Sure."

Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.

Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."

To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”

Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.

But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."

So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.

"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"

"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."

"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."

"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."

The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.

When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."

"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.

"Open it."

With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."

Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"

Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.

"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—

—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.

"It's healing nicely."

You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.

It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.

"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."

He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."

"I know!"

Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.

“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.

"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."

Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.

"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."

Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”

You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"

"A very uncooperative wife, you are."

You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stop by the florist—”

And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.

Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."

No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.

Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.

You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.

"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."

Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.

You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.

"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.

You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.

What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.

In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.

. . .

“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”

Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”

You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.

“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.

“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”

“And you like them as well.”

“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”

The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a wife.

Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”

Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.

“Y/N, you...”

It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—

“I... am glad it is you.”

His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.

“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”

And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”

You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.

Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.

Was it the alcohol?

You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.

“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.

“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.

But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.

He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—

In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.

He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—

“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.

“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.

It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.

“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”

There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.

And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.

He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.

You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s gray-hazel eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.

"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.

Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.

And yet, despite that...

“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.

Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.

But you never received your answer.

Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.

He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.

Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.

You are so happy. Incomparably so.

At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.

The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.

Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—

You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.

It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.

Him and you... last night...

Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...

There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.

And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—

He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.

. . .

It was the best sleep you’d had all week.

When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.

Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.

You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"

He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.

Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.

"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.

"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.

And then came the killing blow—

"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."

Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.

"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."

Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!

Your husband considers that a night spent with you—his wife—a mistake!

The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.

Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"

"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.

No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.

The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.

Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.

Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.

You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.

"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"

Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"

"No, forget it."

Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.

Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."

You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"

"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."

At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.

But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."

"—?! You're so mean!"

A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"

You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."

A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:

Petition for Divorce.

Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.

You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.

He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.

Believe it or not, he cherished you too.

That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.

He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.

Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.

It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.

. . .

It was strange to see you on duty.

With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.

"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."

He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.

So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.

But that wasn't the most surprising of all—

"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.

He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.

Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.

It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...

Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.

But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.

Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?

Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.

He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.

"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.

"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."

"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"

Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"

Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.

"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"

Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.

"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"

He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.

"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.

A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"

"Those two! They are always—!"

What?

Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.

You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.

He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.

No. Not again!

Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.

"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"

All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...

He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.

The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.

If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.

He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—

You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.

Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—

A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.

A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.

The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.

"Zayne? Zayne!"

A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.

Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.

Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.

"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."

Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."

He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.

Since then, you have always been there.

And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.

. . .

Another memory.

"Are you awake...?"

His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.

"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."

You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.

Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."

"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.

"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"

"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"

You were noisy, but endearingly so.

. . .

"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."

There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.

And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.

"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.

He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.

"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"

You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"

Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...

In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.

"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"

The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—

"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"

Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.

Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.

Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?

"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.

"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"

Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."

"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"

"I'm... fine..."

"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"

You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.

Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."

"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"

"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."

"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"

"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."

His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"

"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"

The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.

And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.

He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.

You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.

"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."

But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.

You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”

“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”

You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”

“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”

You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.

He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.

It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.

And one night, several days later...

"Here, don't move..."

You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.

"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase your mournful expression. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."

Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.

"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.

"What, why aren't you— Ah!"

Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"

He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”

You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”

His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”

And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.

"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.

He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."

"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"

That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.

It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.

At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.

He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."

Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.

He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.

But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.

Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.

“I... want to treasure you better.”

Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.

Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“This time for sure... I will.”

And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.

[woantohae]

Only you || The Void x reader x Bob Reynolds

Summary: Bob's dark, evil entity, The Void, appears when you least expect it. The rest of the team must be prepared to confront him and his prevailing malice. However, there is only one person on the team with whom he has a soft spot. And it's her.

Author's note: this is an anonymous request that i needed to write inmediately. So, here you go. Enjoy it!

《tags: fluff, curse words, the void having a soft spot for the reader, thunderbolts being kinda like a 'found family' trope》

Bob watched the girl from a distance while she prepared dinner.

It wasn't a secret to anyone that Bob was attracted to Y/N. The whole team used to tease him about it, until his ears turned red. John was more insistent on it along with Alexei, who motivated him to ask her out. After meeting them and fighting the group, they decided to put their differences aside and help the man who only wanted to control his powers. Or rather, control him. The Void.

The entity that used to control man when he least expected it or felt like it. He had dark desires and every time he appeared, the rest of the group had to confront him and try to bring him back. However, it was in vain. His powerful entity wouldn't allow a group of powerless people to lock him up like that. When he appeared, he stalked them through the corridors of the compound and often mock them.

Before it was much more chaotic. The first few days Bob tried to prevent the entity from invading him from the inside, but it was impossible. When he came back to himself, he was greeted by Y/N who tried to hold him by the shoulders to stabilize him, while she watched behind the girl's back how the compound was in a mess and, sometimes, on fire.

He didn't remember much of what happened when The Void consumed him. But it always happened that John showed up with a bleeding nose and Bucky adjusting his metal arm.

Somehow, they got used to it and prepared for the worst.

Alexei walks up to the brunette and pats his shoulder gently, scaring him away in the process.

"Shit," Bob says, turning to look at the bearded man, who laughs.

"Seriously, you should try to approach her," he says with an accent. "It seems like it's something mutual."

"Who? Bob and Y/N?" John joins the conversation.

Alexei nods "Oh, yeah. You should try it," John advises with amusement and mischief in his tone.

Bob takes one more look at the girl, who is chatting with Bucky and Yelena, animatedly. Although Y/N ​​had always shown him to trust him, Bob couldn't give himself the pleasure of approaching her so soon and in that way. He wasn't sure, and he didn't want to hurt her, especially if he decided to have The Void appear at any moment.

"You should do it before a certain soldier tries something with her," John scoffs, seeing if he gets a reaction from him.

An annoying feeling arises in his chest and he swallows as if this act will make it better.

"I've seen a lot of closeness between Bucky and Y/N." Bob frowns as he watches Bucky gently place his hand on the girl's arm.

"You should actually worry about your other... ugh!" Alexei receives a punch to the back of the head from John "Why did you do that?"

John rolls his eyes in annoyance and curses under his breath. Then, he looks at the brunette and sighs. "You should go for it"

He feels an evil sensation slowly invade his body, and he is aware of what is about to happen. He continues to look at the scene in front of his eyes and clenches his fists tightly. John watches the scene with amusement as he feels Ava position herself next to him and whisper to her, without her reaching Bob's hearing.

"Are we still with the bet?" Ava smiles with amusement and shows him a 20 dollar bill. "Only if it turns out that the other one always shows up when he sees that Y/N is close to Bucky. And of course, if he treats us like shit at the table while being soft for her"

"You bet," John says confidently.

Alexei frowns and crosses his arms.

"What did you bet?"

"20 bucks that Void treats us like shit while he treats Y/N so softly" Alexei laughs unamusedly and shakes his head.

He watches as Bob gets up from the couch to slowly but surely approach the rest in the kitchen.

"That's impossible. That thing is crazy, I don't think it's like that"

Ava raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to bet?"

Alexei just smiles.

Void was at the table with them.

It was no longer Bob who was in the room. The man's evil personality looked closely at each of them, who sensed a change in the environment. Void looked at Alexei who was happily eating his plate, and then turned his gaze to Y/N.

John cleared his throat and turned to look at Bob.

"Bob, aren't you going to eat?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. Void looks at him with seriousness on his face.

Suddenly he makes a grimace of disgust on his face that does not go unnoticed by the others.

"I don't feel like eating anything you guys have made," he spits firmly. He pushes the plate away and crosses his arms.

"Oh, what a shame," Ava intervenes. "Y/N spent a lot of time preparing this dish. It's one of her special recipes."

The named woman opens her eyes in surprise and looks at Bob. Y/N is looking at the man carefully, and realizes that it is not Bob's bright eyes that are watching her, but the other him.

"Shit" Yelena curses.

"We've got Void here, guys," Alexei announces, munching on his food.

Void narrows his eyes and looks at Y/N, asking:

"Did you prepare dinner?" Y/N nods her head.

"If you want I can prepare something else" she says. Yelena snorts and looks amused at the scene in front of her eyes.

"You better behave, Void," the blonde warns.

"This could get messy" Bucky gulps his drink.

Void with an automatic movement, brings the plate closer and takes the fork to bring the food to his mouth. Savoring the dish prepared by Y/N. He couldn't let them see him enjoy the dish, he wouldn't allow it. But seeing how Y/N's eyes looked at him expectantly, he allowed himself to nod his head.

"It's good," he says coldly. Y/N smiles and continues eating.

“Wow, who knew the monster himself could enjoy a meal prepared by Y/N,” John scoffs.

Void raises his hand and throws him away from the table, making him crash against the wall. Void continues eating, under the watchful eyes of the rest.

"If someone doesn't want to end up like the soldier, I would suggest you to keep eating," he warns.

"Whatever you say, pal" Yelena says, sipping her drink.

Alexei grimaces as he sees Ava's triumphant face.

Something tells him, he's gonna lose that bet.

Yelena and Bucky had joined the bet, while Taskmaster decided to stay out of the whole thing. As always.

The next thing the group saw was when they were fighting some smugglers of the Super Soldier serum.

Bucky was trying to fight against the leader of the gang, while Ava hit some men with precise and agile movements. Alexei was punching, enjoying the moment, while John and Taskmaster were in charge of knocking down everyone who crossed them. Yelena, Y/N and Bob were trying to take the serum samples that were hidden, but eight armed men entered the room.

"Take care of the serum, we'll keep them busy" Y/N says, occupying her powers.

Bob started fighting alongside her, trying to take them down and make sure she was okay. The duo was winning the fight, but without noticing the bullet that one of the bad guys had fired, it had grazed Y/N's arm, causing her to curse and stop using her powers, while receiving a punch from a man. The girl falls unconscious to the ground, while Bob grunts and feels Void's presence take control of his person.

He screams and feels it take over him, losing control. Void glares at the one who hit the girl, while with a wave of his hand, he sends the guy he was fighting with into complete darkness.

"You...." points to the man, who swallows nervously about what will happen next. "You shouldn't have done that." And he destroys him with his hand.

Yelena observes the scene as she returns with the serum case in her hand. Void doesn't look at her, his attention is focused on taking Y/N into his arms. When he takes her against his body bridal style, he raises his dark, dominant gaze to the blonde.

"Is she okay?" Yelena asks referring to the unconscious girl. Void clenches his jaw and walks past her while replying that the girl is fine now.

Now that he has her safe.

The rest of the group arrives agitated and they can see how Void doesn't even spare them a glance, he is worried about holding the girl tightly in his arms and then leaving through the balcony of the building and flying away.

John narrows his eyes and watches with an amused grimace as Alexei curses.

"It would be 40 bucks, Alexei," he pats his back, "I suggest you break your piggy bank."

When Void arrives with Y/N ​​at the compound, he immediately heads to "Bob's" room to leave her lying on the mattress. He watches as her chest rises and falls calmly, while he clenches his jaw and sees the cut on her temple.

He could have unleashed all his power to destroy the bastards who caused that, but he knew—as crazy as it may seem to him and he is against the idea of ​​controlling himself—that he could have killed the group, even Y/N. And he didn't want that to happen. Unlike Sentry, his dark side couldn't hold back and always got out of control, but when he met Y/N everything seemed to calm down a little for him. No matter how crazy it seemed.

Void observes Y/N's sleepy figure and crouches down to her level to bring his face closer to her hair, sniffing the scent of her shampoo. Vainilla with coconut. That seemed to calm him down.

A few hours pass and Void takes it upon himself to still maintain control of Bob's body to keep an eye on the girl. The rest arrived at the premises with injuries and barely walking, they stopped as soon as they saw the man's dark suit.

"How is she?" Bucky asks. Void crosses his arms and looks at him with his usual coldness.

"She's sleeping," he answers bluntly.

Yelena points her head to the door of the room. "Is she in Bob's room?" He nods his head.

Bucky sighs and takes a few steps until he walks into the room. "I should go check on her."

However, he is stopped by the other's hand, earning a confused and disapproving look. "

What's wrong with you? I want to go check on her" Void smiles coldly.

"It won't be necessary. She's with me." Bucky snorts and looks at him defiantly.

"She's my friend. I should check on her."

"Guys...." Ava warns.

Void laughs with amusement.

"Don't make it any harder, Barnes," he points out. "You know how this will end if you confront me."

Bucky sets his jaw and clenches his metal fist.

"Guys" a female voice is heard. Void turns around instantly and sees Y/N touching her head.

"Shit, this hurt" she complains.

Bucky looks at her and goes to her, while Void follows him without taking his eyes off the girl.

"Do you need me to bring you ice?" Yelena asks going to the refrigerator.

"Please," she asks.

"I'll do it," Void orders firmly. Y/N looks at the man and is surprised to see Void. Lately she has been seeing him more than Bob himself.

Alexei curses and goes to the room, thinking that he will have to pay more money to the rest.

"Shit"

Void takes the ice pack from the blonde's hands and Y/N walks over to gently hold it out to her. Ava watches the scene carefully as she sees how he acts with the other girl on the team. Yelena stands next to Ghost and arches an eyebrow as she holds the side of her rib.

"Who knew Void could have a heart after all" she says mockingly.

It was a rainy night and everyone in the compound was sleeping peacefully. Everyone except Bob, who wandered through the hallways without being able to fall asleep.

He didn't remember much from the previous days, only that he had worried that Y/N had a small cut on her temple. He sat on the couch and listened to the rain fall, while behind him Y/N approached with a smile on her face.

"There you are" Bob jumps and turns to see Y/N sitting next to him, a blanket surrounding her body "I was starting to wonder when would you come back"

Bob smiles nervously.

"It wasn't me. It was..."

"Void," she finishes, with a slight smile. Bob tenses.

"I hope he hasn't caused too much trouble," he murmurs.

Y/N shakes her head. "You'd be surprised, actually."

He frowns.

"Why?"

"He helped me when I got knocked out the time we went on that mission," she reminds him. Bob begins to remember and remembers that the last thing he saw that day was Y/N falling unconscious to the ground.

He looks at the girl's already healed cut.

"Are you better now? Do you need anything?" Y/N smiles and plays with her fingers under the blanket.

She moves closer to him and hears him swallow.

"Actually, i do. I needed you to tell me if..." she lowers her voice "you feel the same way"

Bob widens his eyes.

"What? I...."

"I know you have feelings for me, Bob" she confesses.

"Shit. I-I can explain it" he says hurriedly "I didn't want you to know, but the boys knew and...."

She interrupts him with a kiss on the lips.

Bob freezes for a few moments and then gently reciprocates. He raises his hands to the girl's red cheeks and lets himself be carried away by the kiss. He adores the feeling, and he doesn't want to stop.

They both separate and a shy smile appears on Y/N's face.

"Is it clear to you now that this is something mutual?" she asks him.

Bob nods his head eagerly, and dares to ask: "Could you make it clearer to me?"

She smiles and kisses him again. He gladly reciprocates, but within seconds he feels how the other takes control of him. Void is in charge of lowering his hands from the girl's cheeks until he slides them around her waist and sits her on his lap, an action that surprises the girl. Especially when "Bob" decides to bite her lips gently, making the girl moan. She separates instantly and notices how Bob's nervous face becomes confident and mischievous.

"What? I couldn't let him enjoy you all to himself" he says grimly.

“God,” Y/N murmurs, letting out a sigh.

"No, I'm just Void. But thank you" he pulls her close to his body and looks into her eyes "I must say that you captivated me to have me under your control, sweetheart"

She swallows and licks her lips. Void can't help but look at her.

"I'll have to get used to this, right?" she asks, leaning on the shoulders of the entity taking over the boy's body. He nods smiling.

"Promise me something"

"Anything, dear," he says against his lips.

"You're going to calm down with the others" Void rolls his eyes and doesn't like the plan, but seeing the pleading gleam in the girl's eyes, he curses and responds in disgust.

"Okay," he says, "Only because you asked me to. Now could we get back to kissing?"

She shakes her head in amusement and captures his lips in another kiss. Hoping that Bob will also enjoy this when he takes control again.

"Oh, c'mon!" Alexei exclaims.