#I want to remind you that there is no need to retaliate

[thef1diary]

Podium Princess | LN + CS + CL

Summary: Lando lost a bet, which would have just temporarily damaged his ego, but the problem was that you were the prize that Charles and Carlos desired for one night.

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© thef1diary 2024. do not repost without permission

Warnings: 18+, mmmf, unprotected sex, three men for three holes 🤭, fingering, oral, anal, dp?, filthy as fuck, derogatory terms (kinda), praise, overstimulation, riding.

pairing: lando x fem!reader x carlos x charles

wc: 3.1k

Request: You should totally write a smut about lando sharing his girlfriend with Carlos and Charles after placing in the #australiangp

"You did what?" You asked your boyfriend, wondering if you misheard his words. "I made a bet," Lando responded, but this time with more assurance.

You sat down on the bed in your shared hotel room and asked, "what is it?" Patting the spot next to you, silently indicating Lando to sit down and begin explaining the bet. You've known from the years you've been dating that whenever he places a wager, he eventually loses, but you chose against mentioning it.

He hesitated for a moment but then decided to explain how he ended up in that situation.

The evening began when Lando noticed Carlos and Charles speaking after the qualifying session. He observed they had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Lando obviously had to approach them and disrupt their latest gossip session.

Putting the trio together, one would discover that they never run out of topics to discuss, which is how they found themselves sitting in a car in the parking lot outside their hotel. Carlos suggested that since they were all staying at the same hotel for the weekend, they might as well leave the track together.

However, during the car ride, there was a discussion that quickly brought out the competitive nature that each driver had developed at a young age. "What, you guys don't think I'll win?" Lando asked the Ferrari drivers, slightly offended. This particular topic of conversation started once they discussed the possible winners for the race tomorrow.

Based on the three practice sessions and qualifying, it could be argued that while they all had a fairly nice weekend so far, some were still more fortunate than others. As a result, the Spaniard shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, "mate, I'm starting second tomorrow, which clearly means I have a better chance of winning."

"I was first in fp1," Lando retaliated although they all knew that qualifying in a higher position meant more than topping a single practice session.

"You might have a good chance, but Max is on pole, let's not forget that," Charles reminded his fellow colleagues. Lando perked up at his words, "exactly, so all Carlos needs to do is somehow crash him out of the race so I can win."

Charles laughed at the outrageous plan, but Carlos scoffed, "I won't ruin my chances at a podium for a race you won't win." Noticing Lando's defeated expression, it caused Charles to laugh harder. "Not that I think either of you would win, but let's make a bet," the Monégasque suggested.

"Who do you think will win?" Carlos asked. Charles' dimple deepened as he smiled, "me of course."

This time Lando scoffed, "yeah, sure mate," then he looked at Carlos, "what do I get when I win the bet?"

"This," Carlos stated while holding up his middle finger towards him. Rolling his eyes, he decided, "fine, I'll ask for something when I win, and then you two won't be able to deny it."

"And what do we get if you don't win?" Carlos asked, looking at Charles who was waiting for an answer from Lando.

While Lando was focused on what he would ask for if he won the bet, he failed to consider that Carlos or Charles were more likely to win than him. He would have a one-in-three chance of winning the wager, but Lando hadn't realized the extent of the situation just yet.

"Not that it'll happen but what do you guys want?" He asked only as a formality to actually set the bet.

Carlos was quiet for a moment as he thought of something that would be worthwhile, looking at Charles to see if he had any ideas. Then he thought of it—of you. "Your girlfriend," he simply stated.

It took two seconds for Lando to start laughing, not that it was ever a challenge to do so, but he initially assumed that Carlos was joking. His laughter quickly died down once he didn't hear either driver laugh along with him.

Looking in the backseat at Charles briefly, who nodded in agreement, Lando snapped his head towards Carlos, "what do you mean my girlfriend?"

"It's simple. If Charles or I win, then you have to share your girlfriend for a night, if not, then you don't," he explained nonchalantly.

Lando looked at Charles, "and you agree with him?" He shrugged, then nodded, "she's hot, I wouldn't say no."

He slumped back in his seat, "I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win." While Lando was secure in his abilities, both drivers around him thought he was growing overconfident. "So you agree, that if you don't win, we can have her?"

Nodding it off and waving his hand around, Lando agreed, "yeah, you can."

You were stunned into silence once he finished explaining. Noticing your lack of words, Lando was unsure of your thoughts. "You don't think I'll win?"

You shrugged, "all I'm gonna say is that you have twenty-one other chances to win this season if you don't win this race." You didn't exactly answer his question, but he realized that you weren't opposed or disgusted by the idea either. Pulling you into his lap, he tilted your chin upwards with his fingers and leaned closer for a kiss.

He tightened his grasp on your chin to stop you before you could press your lips against his. "Oh I see, you don't want me to win just so you can be passed around like a slut between my friends?"

"You wouldn't have put me as the prize if you didn't like the idea," you retaliated, smirking as you moved his hand away to finally place your lips on his.

—

You stood among the crowd, cheering for Lando, who took his place on the third step of the podium. As the podium celebrations began, a part of you was also looking forward to the celebrations that would follow later tonight. Lando may have lost a bet, but it was the first bet you were glad he lost.

That is how you ended up in your hotel room with your lover, waiting in anticipation for the other two drivers to arrive. With his trophy set aside, you and Lando were occupied with each other; your eyes closed and head tilted back as he trailed kisses down your throat.

Then came a knock on the door, one that made your heart race in all the best ways. Lando stood up and opened the door, revealing Charles and Carlos standing on the other side, still dressed in their Ferrari polos from earlier that evening.

"What did he say? I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win," Charles greeted by mocking Lando's words from the day before. "Alright, alright I get it but I still placed third," he retaliated which earned a nod from Carlos. "Congrats, cabrón."

You could hear them laughing among themselves, but it quickly died down once Carlos and Charles spotted you. Lando had suggested that you should wear red, considering both of the drivers that placed first and second adored red.

There you sat on the mattress, leaning back on your forearms with an ankle crossed over the other, clad in only a tight short red dress which you were glad you ended up packing.

"Well, fuck me," Charles muttered under his breath earning a chuckle from you once you heard his comment. Standing up and slowly stepping towards them, you replied, "fuck me indeed."

Your gaze was fixated on Carlos, the race winner, whose eyes revealed a glimpse of all the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. "Congratulations, you both deserve a good celebration," you said, smiling as you felt Carlos' arm snaking around your waist and Charles' breath fanning your face.

"Is that what you're going to give us? A good celebration?" Charles asked, his lips grazing your cheek. "I'll give you anything you want."

You looked at your boyfriend for a second, making sure he was still comfortable with the situation before proceeding any further. But you just saw desire in his eyes and while the corner of his lip curled up in a lazy smirk, a nod from him allowed you to carry on. He may have nodded at you, but his eyes darted over your head to his fellow drivers, "Go on then, Carlos, Charles, claim your prize."

Your lips parted slightly, marvelling at the fact that Lando hadn't even addressed you, instead treating you like an object to be claimed. The worst part was realizing that you liked it since his remarks had made you clench your thighs together.

Carlos grinned at your obedient behaviour as he was easily able to tip your head back to face him. Now that they truly had the freedom to do anything they wanted to you, with your permission, neither felt bad for having sinful thoughts about you—their best friend's girlfriend—while Carlos and Charles were alone in their bedrooms.

Kissing you with a sense of urgency, Carlos stole your breath away in a matter of seconds. Your thoughts had quickly dissipated into thin air as you felt Charles trailing his fingers up your body while pressing up behind you.

You heard Lando shuffle around before leaving the three of you alone in the bedroom for a moment which only intensified your feelings. Sandwiched between the two men who are good friends of yours, were now looking at you as if you are merely an outlet for their sexual desires.

Sliding down the straps that held your dress up, Charles continued kissing every inch of your bare skin revealed to him. His hands rounded to your front, pulling down the flimsy piece of fabric to display your tits to the duo. Your nipples instantly pebbled as Charles' fingers brushed against them, making you tilt your head back and resting it against his shoulder.

Letting you regain your breath, Carlos moved down to your neck, replacing each kiss Lando had placed earlier with small nips and grazes of his teeth, just painful enough to still be pleasurable.

While both their mouths were occupied, the Spaniard's hands pushed down the rest of your dress to the floor, parting away for a moment to let you to step out of it and toss it to the side with your feet.

Lando returned to the room, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent a moan from leaving his mouth. You were now completely bare, with two fully clothed drivers—his friends—pressed against you while their hands roamed all over your body.

Discarding his shirt on the floor, he occupied your mouth with another kiss, muffling your moans. "Fuck, enjoying yourself, baby?" Lando muttered once you parted away for a moment. Nodding, you opened your mouth to respond but a sharp gasp left your mouth as you felt Charles' fingers teasing your clit while Carlos palmed your ass.

"Merde, she's so perfect," the Monégasque commented, spreading your pussy with two fingers while a third finger swiped through your folds to catch the wetness that gathered between. "Charles," you breathlessly whispered, a plead for more.

"So ready to be ruined," Carlos added, his own fingers prodding your ass, earning a string of curses along with pleas to keep going from you. Gathering your slick from your cunt, Carlos coated his fingers to ease just the tip of one finger into your ass.

Soon enough, you were laid down on the bed, and one by one the three men stripped their clothes away, adding to the ever growing pile that started from your dress. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the feeling of three pairs of hands roaming everywhere, not leaving any inch of your skin untouched.

You had already orgasmed twice, but you couldn't remember whose fingers brought you over the edge the first, or even the second time, as all of the sensations mushed together in what felt like one never ending wet dream.

Staying true to your words of giving them anything they desired, you moaned around Carlos' cock as Charles slid his dick in your pussy without any forewarning. Your grasp on his thighs tightened as Charles began to thrust, slowly at first but then showed no mercy once his grasp on your hips tightened.

Carlos pulled your mouth off his cock, but quickly replaced the emptiness you immediately felt with two of his fingers resting heavily on your tongue. His actions didn't allow you to close your jaw, causing you to drool down your chin, and only then he was satisfied.

"Such a good fucking girl," he commented, which only made your head spin further while you smiled at the compliment. "Oh she likes that," Charles added as he felt your pussy clench around him at Carlos' praise.

His fingers that were now coated with your saliva trailed down your body to where you and Charles were connected. He nodded mockingly at his teammate's comment, "yeah, you like being praised?"

Easily finding your swollen clit, he slightly pinched it before creating small circles, edging you closer. You nodded, "please, please, please." You were sobbing for relief, your voice strained from the constant cries that left your lips with each new wave of ecstasy.

Connecting their gaze, Charles and Carlos smirked as they silently agreed to let you cum once again. Charles's fingers slid closer to your back hole, this time able to slide two fingers down to the last knuckle. At the same time, Carlos' fingers left your clit only to join the thrusts of Charles' cock, scissoring two of his fingers in your pussy to stretch you out even further. Pleasure surged through your body, and you closed your eyes tightly at the sudden sensation of being so full.

Charles slowed down his thrusts, prolonging your post orgasmic sensation. You slumped forwards when he pulled out, still holding back his own release for now.

Despite still being eager, they were ever patient with you especially after bringing you over the edge multiple times now, knowing your limbs were close to tiring out.

Still on your hands and knees, you shuffled up to straddle Carlos, sinking down on down cock this time, mouth dropping open as he stretched you out slightly differently compared to Charles.

"C'mon, cariño, ride me," he instructed, resting his hands on your hips, urging your movements while also allowing you to depend on him for help. "You feel so good, Carlos," you panted.

You heard some shuffling around you again but you couldn't move your gaze away from watching your pussy engulf Carlos' cock over and over again.

However, you were startled once you felt a cool sensation prodding your ass; Charles' fingers coated in lube. "Need you to relax, baby," you could hear Lando's words and he was quick to come into your view, stroking his dick to the sight of you filled by his former teammate.

He grabbed your hand off of Carlos' shoulder, guiding it towards his cock. Already slick with his precum, you could easily move your hand up and down, watching his reaction with hooded eyes.

Charles' free hand wrapped around your throat from behind while he whispered in your ear, "we're gonna fill up all of your holes, darling."

Groaning, you nodded, "please," a word that you had repeatedly spoken to the point where it sounded like a broken record. "You want that?" One of them asked, but you couldn't focus on whose voice it was. "Fill me up, please," your words turning into a moan as Carlos shifted underneath you, reaching deeper inside.

Releasing the grasp on your throat, Charles focused on opening you up with his fingers, for you to be able to take his cock in your ass while Carlos continued pounding your pussy.

Lando replaced Charles' hand, grabbing the back of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair to bring you close for a filthy kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing, he slightly bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling on it for a moment before letting go.

Without any words exchanged, your boyfriend guided your mouth towards his cock, filling up two out of three of your holes. It took you a moment before you actually started moving your head up and down, moaning and drooling on his cock because of Carlos' upward thrusts.

Charles removed his fingers, having deemed to have stretched you out enough then coating his dick with a good amount of lube. With one hand palming and spreading your ass, he used the other to guide his cock into you. Your eyes welled up with tears, not entirely painful but almost overwhelmed with being filled everywhere at once.

Your body was quickly calmed down by Lando, Charles, and Carlos as they moved their hands all over you in soothing motions. Charles began thrusting when you nodded because you were unable to speak while Lando's dick was in your mouth.

Your muffled groans sounded distant to you, mind foggy, but you had never felt so full and aware before.

With a warning, Lando filled your mouth with cum, which you swallowed greedily without hesitation. Now, with your mouth unoccupied, you couldn't hold back on your moans. "Gonna cum," you warned, knowing you won't last long, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.

Charles' fingers reached your chest, teasing and pinching your nipples while Carlos rested his palms on your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

Your pace stuttered as you came around his cock, and Carlos took the reins and thrusted upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. "Fuck, where do you want us?" Charles asked, tethering on the edge and based on Carlos' stuttering pace, you knew he was too.

Your next words pushed both over the edge, "inside." Slumping forwards, you felt both Ferrari drivers filling you up with their cum. "Fucking hell, that was hot," Lando commented, leaning closer to brush away the strands of hair stuck on your forehead due to sweat.

Charles and Carlos carefully eased you off their cocks, with Lando helping you lie down on the bed which you immediately melted into.

It was unbearable for you to be completely empty after being entirely filled. Mustering up all your strength, you held your arms out for your boyfriend, who immediately joined you on the bed, whispering praises in your ear.

Meanwhile, Carlos and Charles decided to clean you up by wiping the cum that had leaked out of your holes with a damp towel. They saw the bruises from their grasps on you in the heat of the moment and couldn't help but smile, knowing they were the cause of it.

You hoped, as you drifted off to sleep, that the three of them would share the podium more frequently, and therefore, share you as well.

Taglist based on the form (let me know if you would like to be removed) @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @evlkking @jointhehunt67 @wonnou @nikfigueiredo

[wildwestdean]

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 

“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 

“Promise?” you asked meekly. 

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 

“You said-” 

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

[awearywritersworld]

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

[omnomnb]

hey guys i've been thinking (bad sign)

anyway. you COULD totally just slap them all in the middle and it'd work but i've chosen contemplation so here are my elaborations. obvs take a grain of salt with the undateables since we still don't know them as well

i will kill for you

barbatos and satan are confident enough in how far they're willing to go to keep you safe that the idea of them needing to die for you doesn't come up

belphie has to stay alive for beel

asmo does not want to die

all of the above are decent at taking care of themselves already (but will try harder for you if need be)

i will die for you

literally look at how undyingly loyal mephisto is to the royal family. to him it is noble to die for those you love and that is an ideal engraved in his bones

mammon does not think before acting and his first priority is always your safety rather than eliminating the threat. he doesn't think to retaliate against a blow, he only tries to take it for you

i will kill for you and die for you

raphael and beel are/were both warriors and protectors and unflinchingly ready to shed blood for their loved ones

raphael leans more to kill and beel leans more to die though. lol

i will kill for you and take care of myself for you

diavolo has to stay alive for the sake of the devildom, but he's willing to crush heads if it comes to it

thirteen walks with death and while it won't take her, she can ask it favours. the walk is lonely and she will let you join her on the path (and maybe even,,, hold your hand 😳)

i will die for you and take care of myself for you

levi isn't incapable of sending forth floods on your behalf but he's liable to impulsively think that the only thing he can do is die so that you'll at least remember him as heroic (and then remind himself that you already do)

i will kill for you, die for you, and take care of myself for you

lucifer's ego is simultaneously through the roof and six feet under. he's the best and also the worst and he'll do whatever it takes in any situation

solomon has very little that personally attaches him to this world that isn't a greater loyalty to his realm in general so he's willing to do just about anything. but also you soothe him and make his long life worth it because he met you

simeon was apparently 100% willing to risk falling for you even in s2, before he was romanceable, so he's the one whose love really transcends time. he'll both worship and disgrace himself for you without a second thought. also you make him forget his catholic guilt

[xfgpng]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 …

— [ nsfw ] : threesome, jealousy, smut, fingering, DP

— wc : 2.1k

the n109 zone often hosts these elaborate auction events and y/n is no stranger to it. ever since meeting sylus, she was invited to join him as his plus one on more than one occasion and she was quite used to the way the people acted.

they seemed to enjoy flaunting their wealth and flashing their very expensive watches as if she didn’t have the richest man standing by her side, a man they all feared and well, some admired and some … didn’t have such innocent intentions when thinking about him.

not that y/n cared all that much. she wouldn’t lie and go as far as to say she wasn’t jealous but she was reminded enough times just how loyal the other man was to her and besides, he wasn’t the only one who adored her so much.

taking a seat alone at the bar, she couldn’t help but grin as she called over the bartender. he was immediately interested, sending her flirtatious smiles and making sure to touch her hands on purpose every time he spoke.

“good evening”

“i hope we aren’t interrupting you”

taking a seat on either side of her, sylus glared at the bartender while rafayel leaned in to place a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. she did look very beautiful this evening, dressed in a lovely dress gifted to her by the man himself.

who knew red and purple would go so well on her.

she was also wearing a very expensive piece of jewellery from sylus, a piece everyone in the n109 zone wanted to get their hands on but knew better than to approach her when she was occupied.

“now sweetie, did we leave you alone so you can get up to mischief?” sylus frowns, finally looking down at her. from his vantage point, she could look down the front of her dress and see her pretty lace bra. she really was a pretty little thing.

“am i not allowed to have a drink?” she asks innocently, “you both had business to attend to and i got lonely”

“you’d be a distraction” rafayel takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. sylus places a firm hand on her thigh, gripping just shy of painful. “we didn’t mean to leave you alone darling”

“i was entertained enough” she grins, leaning closer towards sylus when he leans over to take a sip of whatever she had ordered.

“would you like to join us next time?” sylus offers and he grins when her eyes light up. y/n didn’t like to be left out of the loop. she was a fighter and could handle anything.

she was certain her everyday job as a hunter was far more dangerous than dealing with a few idiots who loved to gamble and sylus did teach her everything she needed to know about poker.

he slides his hand further up her thigh and maintains eye contact as he taps the bar. he was ready to have a drink of his own.

“you always smell so good” rafayel whispers, kissing the side of her jaw. he was right, she did but so did he.

“did you miss me that much?” she teases. it had only been an hour since they arrived and their meeting with the owner of this club only lasted 10 minutes. the night was still young.

“i miss you all the time” rafayel says, now lightly grazing his teeth against her pulse point. she huffs but it turns into a soft moan when sylus squeezes her thigh.

“god you’re so beautiful” she hears him groan, taking a sip of the strong liquor he seemed to enjoy. she liked to dress up of course but she loved having all their attention on her even more.

“yeah?” she smiles softly, “you should see the rest of it”

rafayel groans and bites her shoulder in retaliation.

“tease” he scoffs before sitting up right and ordering himself a drink too. y/n was interested to see how long the two of them could wait before they were dragging her back to sylus’ place.

she bit her lip at all the possibilities before leaning forward to finish her own drink. she was a lot more patient than they were and it looked like sylus still wasn’t too pleased with the friendly bartender.

she leans back again and gasps, forgetting about her little gift she prepared. she felt a little more sexier tonight and she had rafayael to thank for that. the dress was long and silky smooth. so soft against her skin and the shoes she wore made her legs look great.

she decided to reward them both for their hard work and added a few extra presents. she started with the perfume. it was their favourite on her and a little body glitter.

then came the very sexy and over priced lingerie she bought with sylus’ card. the man didn’t even ask questions but she knows her saw the price on his phone and he was definitely curious. then the cute little plug she got from sylus. he had it made with a beautiful gem stone, a mix of deep red and purple, no doubt because of their eyes.

he was a sentimental pervert like that and she loved it, even though she pretended to be appalled by it.

normally she liked having one of them prep her. they seemed to enjoy it a lot more than she thought and she let them have their way with her but after a long and tiring week, she wants to let loose and she wasn’t in the mood to wait to be able to take it.

she wanted it the moment she was alone with them again and she always got what she wanted.

“you okay over there sweet thing?” sylus raises a brow. she wasn’t a lightweight and she hardly drank so her being a little flushed had nothing to do with alcohol.

“yeah” she breathes, “just fine”

the plug was a lot bigger than a normal one but then again so was he and rafayael wasn’t exactly on the smaller side either so she had to be prepared.

“you’re squirming a lot” rafayel chuckles, “are you that eager?”

“well.. not exactly” she lies, keeping her voice low, “it’s just a little bigger than the ones you usually make me use”

she sees sylus clench his jaw and rafayel’s eyes widen just a fraction before he narrows them.

“y/n” rafayel whispers, back in her personal space again, “you’re a little tease and you do this shit on purpose”

“is that why you let that fool flirt with you?” sylus asks, “you intend to rile us up this evening?”

“i did no such thing” she lies again, smiling far too sweetly at them both.

“we’re done here” sylus stands, “put it on my tab”

“y-yes sir!”

sylus scoffs and takes her hand.

“you want a fucker who can’t even speak properly to fuck you like i do?” he laughs but it doesn’t sound good, “i’ll show you”

sylus gently pushes her into the back of the limo as rafayel climbs in the other side. she tries to hide her excitement as rafayael tells the driver to wait outside.

“i hate to ruin this dress darling but we can always replace it” rafayel says before he’s tearing the material off her body. it should not be as hot as it is but she moans anyway, grabbing onto his shoulder as sylus tosses the remaining pieces of silk somewhere behind him.

they both take a moment to appreciate the lingerie set. it would be a shame to ruin it and sylus aches to rip it off her body but he can also tell she put a lot of thought into their gift tonight.

“all this, just for us baby?” he asks, kissing her neck as he cups her breasts. the lace feels so good against her skin and she moans, legs spreading on instinct when rafayael moves to sit between them.

“you look good” rafayel smiles, it’s a genuine soft smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the situation but she doesn’t care. she’s happy they like it.

“i do love what’s underneath way more so..” he grins, sliding the panties off slowly before shoving them into his back pocket. normally she’d call him a pervert but she’s too focused on the way she’s staring at her pussy.

nestled between her wet folds is the plug. she must’ve been a little uncomfortable and horny since she put it inside her and the images of her fingering herself in nothing but the lacy black bra and high heels has him twitching in his pants.

sylus reaches down and brushes against her clit. kissing her before she can moan too loudly again. they were selfish that way, not wanting anyone else to hear her pretty sounds.

“fuck” rafayel bites the inside of his cheek as he pulls the plug out slowly before pushing it back in. they don’t seem to mind the mess she’s making on both their pants and when she hears a zipper, she squeezes tightly around the toy.

“there will be no taking it slow” sylus tells her, “you’ll take us both and then when we’re home, we’ll take our time okay?”

she didn’t know sylus to be this impatient. he was usually the one teasing her and riling her up until she was begging.

“he asked you a question my love” rafayel says, “you remember your words don’t you?”

“yes” she gasps, “i do”

“good girl” he praises, “let me test you out first”

she nods, gripping sylus as rafayel pulls the toy out. it should be dirty the way he puts it in his house but she moans at the sight.

“fucker” sylus chuckles.


sylus uses the hand not playing with her breast to spread her folds for rafayel. he slips 3 fingers inside her and it’s still too tight. he works her open like that for a while, wanting to make her cum at least once before they fucked her.

she was always their first priority and they’d never purposely hurt her unless it was something she asked her.

“please” y/n begs, back arching as he works a 4th finger into her. she clamps down around his fingers as she cums. rafayel kisses her as she comes down from her high.

she isn’t sure when it happened but she feels herself being lifted up and then she’s sinking down onto sylus. it burns so good and she cries out in shock. she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm but she hardly has time to breathe before rafayel is sliding in with him.

it’s so deliciously tight that she finds herself cumming again just from that. she almost screams but sylus is quick to kiss her, holding her waist.

“fuck” sylus groans, “fuck baby, stop squeezing like that”

“sorry” she whines, eyes crossing as she grabs his shoulders. she’s sure that’s going to leave a nasty mark but he never seems to mind, often encouraging it.

they didn’t do this often. none of them wanting to hurt her or push her beyond her limits. they didn��t mind taking their sweet time playing with her body but they were all a little too worked up and she was preparing for it tonight.

rafayel bites down on her shoulder, holding onto her waist just above where sylus’ hands are and she should feel a little ashamed but she doesn’t.

“please move” she begs, moving her hips on her own.

“dirty girl” rafayel whispers, thrusting very slowly as both him and sylus find the perfect rhythm inside her.

she hides her face in the crook of sylus’ neck as the begin to fuck into her harder and faster. she can feel the limo moving with them and she has a little bit of sense to be embarrassed. it wasn’t like they parked far from the entrance and the driver was right outside.

“so good” sylus says right into her ear, “you make us feel so fucking good baby, just you”


she bites down onto his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. it feel good, better than usual and she wonders if it’s because they’re both so worked up.

rafayel spanks her hard before gripping her fat of her ass. he could never get used to being inside y/n, even if sylus is here with them. it feels good, everything about her was just so perfect.

“i’m close” she warns, eyes squeezing shut at how quickly she seems to be reaching her peak tonight.

she doesn’t see them sharing a look over her shoulder before they both stop moving.

“wh-why?” she cries out, looking up so fast that she almost gets whiplash.

“you’re just so pretty like this” rafayel sighs, thrusting lightly, “so we’re going to start again, be good”

she wants to protest but they start up a new rhythm, slower than the last but still so good it makes her toes curl.

“there you go sweetheart” sylus moans into her ear, “just like that”

[navybrat817]

Bucky needs to pay attention to me. 😤

I feel you, nonnie. 😂

Running on Empty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You had a long day and need Bucky to give you some attention.

Word Count: Almost 1.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), established relationship, dirty talk, humor, sassy reader, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me, lovelies), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Work left me in a mood, so apologies for this. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed as you took a seat on the couch and wondered why you bothered getting out of bed today. Contrary to popular belief, Mondays weren’t always the worst. Naturally, the universe decided it would be fun to give you problem after problem today at work in retaliation for having a positive attitude. How you managed to get anything done outside of putting out so many fires, you had no idea.

And Bucky?

Your beefy, gorgeous specimen of a boyfriend had time to sit, relax, and reread his copy of The Hobbit for the umpteenth time. Manspreading in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Not that you wanted him to have a bad day, too. God knows he deserved rest and relaxation.

But why was he reading instead of fucking the obvious frustration out of you?

“You’re staring at me,” he said, turning a page without looking up from his book. “Which I would say it’s creepy, but we both know you like looking at me.”

True.

You bit your lip as you unashamedly checked him out, wishing he’d lift his gaze so you could see the blue of his eyes. It was an impressive feat that his prosthetic arm matched his right arm in terms of the muscular form and structure, the fabric of his shirt stretching to accommodate his torso. It didn’t matter if he decided to hold you down with his flesh or metal hand, he loved to remind you of his strength as he pounded your desperate pussy, stretching your walls and driving into you so deep that you swore you saw the gates of heaven.

Maybe that was why you thought Bucky looked like Jesus when he was in Wakanda.

“Yeah, I am staring,” you replied, tapping a finger on your thigh when he hummed. “Because I’m trying to figure out why you’re reading instead of eating my pussy.”

Bucky waited a beat before he picked up the bookmark beside him, carefully slotting it between the pages before he shut it and gave you his full attention. “You mind repeating that?” He asked, his voice gruff as he tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He wore it down today, but kept a hair tie around his right wrist.

Perfect for him to pull it back when he went down on you.

He smirked and scratched his scruffy chin when you narrowed your eyes. You craved the burn it left behind when he rubbed his face against your most sensitive area. He knew that.

“You want me to spell it out for you, Bucko? Fine,” you said, leaning back on the cushions as you spread your legs and planted your feet on the couch. Your hands formed a perfect V by your mound, which might as well have been a neon fucking sign since you ditched your under minutes ago, as he tried to hold back a groan. “See this? I have a perfectly good pussy right here and it isn’t going to eat or fuck itself.”

Bucky ran his tongue along his bottom lip before he inhaled. The beautiful bastard was actually sniffing out your arousal. You almost wished you could go back in time and let the scientists know that the serum they created helped super soldiers use their heightened senses to get their dicks wet.

Not that you were complaining since Bucky eyed you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t realize eating or fucking your pussy was on my ‘To Do’ list today,” he said, purposely running a large hand over his crotch.

Fucking tease with his fucking massive hand and cock.

You pouted when he didn’t make a move to get up. “I am your ‘To Do’ list. I’m your girlfriend and I want you to do me because I had a long day,” you huffed, dipping your hand between your spread legs before you batted your eyes at him. “You haven’t fucked me in ages. It isn’t fair.”

Your beautiful man snarled at that, making you shiver as you teased yourself. You didn’t dip a finger in, but you did spread your growing wetness around as he watched. “I fucked you last night,” he reminded you.

“It feels like ages,” you corrected yourself. Thanks to him, you experienced what all-consuming desire felt like and you didn’t like going long without him having you. He couldn’t fault you for that, even if he did thoroughly wear you out the night before. “I’m so empty, Bucky, and I have this tight, wet hole for you to fill up. It’s all yours if you want it.”

His nostrils flared as he finally pushed himself up, his fingers flexing as you kept rubbing yourself with a sweet smile. “It’s my pussy,” he rasped, palming himself again as he stood in front of you. “And since she’s so needy that I can’t even finish a chapter of my book, stop touching her and let me get to work.”

Like you don't have a needy cock, big boy.

The growl in his voice brought a moan out of you, but you didn’t stop touching yourself. “Unless you mark it,” you began, looking him dead in the eye as you brought a glistening finger to your lips and traced along them like a gloss. “It isn’t yours.”

You managed not to smirk triumphantly when he took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his luscious hair back. “She knows she’s mine. Bratty pussy just wants some attention,” he said as he dropped to his knees and leaned in to nose at your slit. “But I don't mind leaving my mark again.”

“Did you just call my pussy a brat?” You questioned, the last word coming out as a strangled moan when Bucky darted his tongue out, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

“No, I called my pussy a brat. Good thing I know how to tame her,” he said, winking up at you when you looked down. The playful look in his eyes made your heart swell. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. “Kisses are a good way to start before I pump her full.”

“A very good start,” you smiled, clenching in anticipation.

“And she loves my kisses,” he replied before dragging his mouth along your folds. The sensation that shot through you almost had your thighs clamping around his head, but it wasn’t possible with the hold he had on you. “I gotta say though. She's a messy little thing. Gets my mouth so wet.”

“Bucky,” you whimpered, tugging some of his hair free as he gently wrapped his mouth around your clit.

He hummed and lightly sucked on it before he pulled away, making you whine in protest when the sparks of pleasure fizzled out. “Speaking of kisses, I almost forgot.”

You gave him a small smile when he leaned up to tenderly kiss your mouth, letting him swallow down your moan as you opened up for him. It ended far too soon for your liking, making you loop a finger around his dog tags to pull him back to your lips. “Love you, Bucky,” you whispered.

On the days you practically ran on empty, you appreciated having someone like him by your side.

“Love you, too, baby,” he whispered back, his gaze soft as he slid back down your body. “Now hold on and let me make you and my pussy forget all about that long day.”

You knew he’d ask later if you were okay, but for now you’d let him shut your brain off and make you feel boneless.

And maybe you'd offer to warm his cock later as a thank you while he caught up on reading.

We all deserve that, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rosepinks-world]

WHEN SHE SQUEEZED ME TIGHT, SHE NEARLY BROKE MY SPINE!

logan howlett x fem reader

logan meets wades friend in the void and to his surprise and dismay she’s stronger than he is.

a/n: powers are basically my girl queen maeves

After Wade had got beaten up by every Wolverine variant he encountered he decided to call in the big guns.

“Y/n I need your help jumping into different multiverses to find a new Wolverine.”

“…Well I ain’t got nothing better to do.”

You were not a hero. You knew from a young age the world was poisoned with corruption and evil so naturally you decided to take matters into your own hands. You were unwillingly experimented on and as a result gained intensified strength and healing factors the perfect combination to become an infamous assassin- which is how you met Wade.

After a while of searching, you met the best Wolverine you could possibly find. Although hope began to fade when you and Wade watched in horror as he chugged a whole bottle of whiskey and passed out on the floor.

You easily hoisted the unconscious man onto your shoulders and carried him out of the bar letting Wade transport you back to the building that you learned was called the ‘TVA’ You threw Wolverine down harshly as Wade presented him to the man who reminded you of someone from pride and prejudice.

Mr Darcy Paradox was not happy. Was it because you had plucked the so called ‘worst’ Wolverine from a different timeline? That Wade had broken his nose? Or because you were now suddenly involved when you really shouldn’t be? Ultimately, he immediately transported the three of you to the void.

You sat criss crossed on the floor, drawing random patterns in the sand as you waited for the two men infront of you to gain consciousness.

Logan jolted up looking around erratically. He made eye contact with you and looked you up and down before he yelled a rather polite: “Who the fuck are you?”

You went to answer but Wade finally woke up.

“That’s Y/n she’s basically an off brand Wonder Woman.”

You gave Wolverine a bright innocent smile and Logan brushed off Wade’s reference with a confused look on his face. Now realising Wade was awake, he immediately stood up and attacked him, jamming his claws into his chest and hoisting him in the air. “Where the hell are we?”

“I don’t know!” Wade yelled defensively.

You sat there entertained as you let the two grown men throw each other around for a bit when Wade said something that seemed to have struck a nerve.

“Is that what you said when your world went to shit?

Your eyes widened in surprise. If this was the worst Wolverine (according to paradox) you wondered what had happened to him to make him so bad. Logan retaliated by throwing Wade through a concrete wall. He looked pretty proud of himself and you just couldn’t help yourself. You rose from your spot kicking away the sand where you had created a very artistic depiction of their fight. You cracked your knuckles and snuck up behind him reaching up to tap his shoulder. He turned around confused and sighed dissatisfied when he saw you.

“Listen bub. Just leave this between me and red I don’t want to hurt a powerless girl-“

Just as he finished his sentence, you punched him square in the face and sent him flying through the same wall that he’d sent Wade into.

Logan threw his body up in shock for what seemed to be hundredth time today. He was getting sick of these surprises. The injuries you’d caused to his body began to heal as Wade cackled at the man from his spot on the floor.

“Told ya she’s like Wonder Woman.”

Logan growled at Wade but was also in disbelief.

You had just caught him off guard. Yep, that was it.

He charged towards you with his claws ready to attack but you countered. You grabbed his claws drawing blood from your hands and threw him to the ground. He groaned and watched as the cuts you inflicted on yourself began to heal the same way his had done. You stood above him a stern look on your face.

“I’m not doing this with you Logan. Just listen to us.”

He wasn’t giving in. He grabbed your calf and pulled you to the ground, flipping you onto your back caging you in with his muscular arms.

He won.

You groaned in anger as you shoved him off of you sending him flying once again. He fell next to you on his stomach, face first into the dirt. You stood up quick before he could and placed a foot on his back and crouched down so you were closer to his face. This was how he realised the intensity of your strength. He could feel the weight of your foot and he was built of fucking adamantium.

“You gonna stop being a little bitch and listen to me or do I have to toss you around some more?”

Logan growled in a mix of anger and embarrassment. Wade had returned, finally healed, and decided to make a comment. “I’ll listen if it means you’ll toss me around.”

You rolled your eyes at Wades comment and picked up a stone throwing it at his face with your intensified strength which knocked him back onto the floor.

Still not getting an answer from the Wolverine you flipped him onto his back pinning his splayed arms to the ground as you straddled his waist. He writhed underneath you- still trying to prove his strength- but you had him, he couldn’t move.

You won.

You tilted your head at Logan and he angrily answered your question.

“I’ll listen.”

You patted the side of his face condescendingly.

“Good boy.”

You graciously unpinned him and he shoved you off, moving away from you rapidly.

He was humiliated.

You looked so ordinary. No indication of your strength and you were half his size. And here you were, tossing the big bad, made of goddamn metal Wolverine around like a fucking rag doll. He’d never met anyone that could do the things you had done to him. Wade had matched his strength when they had their little fight but you didn’t just match his strength you were exceeding it. He didn’t hold back once. He was using his full ability and it didn’t even effect you. He felt a whirlwind of emotions but one stuck out the most to him.

Lust.

He would be lying if he said this whole situation didn’t turn him on. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Wade

“You kinky son of a bitch you into a bit of masochism?” Wade asked getting dangerously close to Logan’s face.

Logan snapped out of his thoughts (unfortunately) and growled at Wade as a warning, “Shut the fuck up.”

You couldn’t help but smirk as Logan started to walk away from you two. It was kinda flattering to beat up Wolverine and also turn him on within the span of five minutes. Wade looked at you, eyes still somehow expressive through his mask.

“Oh! That was definitely a yes!”

[the-californicationist]

Hiii

First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖

Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶

Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌

Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?

Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥

Thank you a loooot. (*＾3＾）/～♡

Do No Harm

After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.

AO3 Link

TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play

When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 

“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 

“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 

You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 

The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 

You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 

He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 

It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 

“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 

You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 

“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 

You smiled down at him, joking around,

“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 

“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”

“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 

You pitied him, winking cheekily, 

“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”

His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 

You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 

He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 

You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 

Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 

You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 

You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 

You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?

You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 

“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”

“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”

“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”

“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 

But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 

“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”

“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 

“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”

He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 

“You want me to stop? Hm?”

The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 

Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 

“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”

“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”

“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 

In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 

You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 

“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 

Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 

The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 

You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 

Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 

As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 

You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 

You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 

Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 

“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”

You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 

“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”

All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 

“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.

You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 

He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 

Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 

He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 

“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”

He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 

You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 

He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 

You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 

“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”

You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 

“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”

“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 

“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 

Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.

[neo-novaa]

marital duties

synopsis: king george x reader, loosely based on this ask,

the sun was burning against your back, the only cold solace being from the wet dirt that riddled your hands.

“you’ve got to be careful pulling that one out,” george— farmer george says to you. it’s a carrot, you’ve grown to recognize them by their leaves. “reach deeper into the ground. if you pull it from the leaves, they’ll rip.

you nod, digging your hands into the dirt, but not before you hear george inhale sharply. you turn, worried, finding his lips in a stern line and his brows furrowed.

“what is it?” you ask, interest peaked.

“you’re still not doing it right.”

you scoff, releiving your hands of the moist soil, and unceremoniously brushing them against your silk dress. it was far beoynd saving, sticky with sweat, stained with soil, the wonderful pastels now tainted with shades of brown.

“i’m reaching into the dirt.” you retaliate, flicking away the dirt from under your nails. 

it’s his turn to scoff. “barely. you didn’t even get your palms in there.”

wiping the last chunk of mud away from your hands, you turn to him with an unapproving glare. “fine then, i’ll dig deeper.”

you dive in, wrist deep—

“no, now you’ve gone past the root entirely.” he scolds, shuffling over to the carrot you’ve been spending far too much time trying to pick out. 

“let me show you,” georges hands envelop yours, his soft palms a sudden reminder of this very temporary escape. 

only an hour, that’s all the time you got in a day to pretend that this was your life; to pretend that he was nothing more than farmer george, and you were nothing more than his wife. 

“you have to say close to the stem,” he whispers, as if people are watching— as if this isn’t the only time in their entire lives where people weren’t watching. 

he gently curls your fingers so that the tips run down the slimy side of the vegetable, nearly reaching the bottom.

“now,” he’s impossibly close, his warm breath against your neck almost making you shudder. “pull!”

he fists your hands and tugs at the carrot with a comical amount of strength. so much so that it causes the two of you to fall over, hands enveloped in each other, grasping a muddy carrot.

“now do you understand?” he says through laughter, and you’re struggling to speak with how much you’re laughing with him. the backside of your dress is now caked in a layer of mulch and dirt. if it was able to be fixed a minute ago, it was far past salvageable now. 

“i think i understand.” you finally say through an onslaught of giggles, sitting up once his hands leave yours.

they’re quick to find you again, gently covering your bare shoulders, shielding you from the blazing heat for almost a moment.

you meet his loving eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail as if he’d forget it– as if he’d let his mind do that to him.

one of his hands runs along the side of your face, grasping your chin. “you’ve no idea how beautiful you are.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. you don’t need a mirror to guess your current state: hair a mess, face riddled with streaks of mud, stuck to your face from how much you’ve been sweating.

“george–” you barely get to say his name before he’s kissing you, dirtied hands finding your place along your jaw. you share the sentiment, your own hands caked in soil are muddying his hair, pulling him closer to you. 

his hands find your waist, pulling you on top of him. they wander up to your chest, down to your hips, and settle on your thighs.

you pull away, gasping, lungs aching from the lack of air. georges breath are matching yours: strong, heavy, wanting.

you’re about to go in again when you hear feet shuffling on gravel only a few feet away.

“brimsley.” you grumble.

“reynolds.” he mutters. 

your right-hand men borh bow deeply. “your majesties,” brimsley says, standing up with perfect posture. 

“yes, yes, i know,” you stand up, brushing off the layer of dried soil on your knees, as if it does anything to help. george doesn’t bother with the stains, almost as if he knows that any attempts to clean his farmer trousers would be futile.

“hours up.” you say with a disappointing sigh, and almost scream at the way that brimsley nods curtley.

“says who?” george is grabbing your wrist, catching your attention and reeling it back to him. “i am the king, and you, my queen. there is no one who can tell us what to do.”

“george?” you barely manage to say, standing blankly, fighting the urge to drop your jaw. 

“all i’m saying is…” he begins to pull you towards your home, not-so discreetly eyeing your chest. “we have other marital duties to attend…do we not?”

“george!” it’s more like a scorn this time, your gaze quickly darting over to brimsley and reynolds who, as if they were statues, have barely moved since they appeared. unlike him, you’re not used to sharing your thoughts around people.

“come on!” he’s tugging you onto the gravel path, and all you can do is roll your eyes and hike up your dress while running off to perform your… “marital duties.”

[monocaelia]

fragile.

' you have broken down my defenses, and i don’t really resent it. ' - vita sackville west

in which you really don't want to care about him and his careless attitude, but you always find yourself coming back to him. always. feat. diluc ragnvindr & gn!reader w.c : 5k warnings : childhood friends to lovers, diluc lore spoilers, minor angst but ends w fluff, diluc ragnvindr. note : happy new year! sorry for the delay hehe, but this is for @seraphiism's 2023 collab event !! please support the other authors and enjoy the fic ^^

your mother had always instructed you to stay close to her side, to never stray far away from her lest you find yourself in trouble with the master of the winery or the other servants working the orchards and tending to the land of the estate.

but with a beautiful land of ripe grapes and friendly staff greeting you as you rush past them, how could you ever just sit still beside your mother as she did her job around the winery?

the late summer breeze rushes past your face as you weave through the wooden stakes holding the wiry vines of grapes above you. the warm sun rays heat your skin as you leap over the small rocks that litter the passage leading into the main area of the ragnvindr estate. the wind whispers in your ear, making you grin as your little legs take you wherever it guides you.

you feel free, the wind pushing past your wings to lead you to your newest adventure around the manor.

your feet land firmly on the grounds behind the manor when you hear the gentle sniffles coming from behind a couple of barrels. despite your mother's warnings echoing in your head, you take gentle steps towards the sound as curiosity takes over.

you're not expecting to see a young boy with fiery red hair and matching eyes that hold the warmest, flickering fire glaring up at you with tears at the corner of his eyes and holding a bleeding knee.

"...are you okay?" you ask, kneeling down beside him. you begin to frown when he pulls his knee away from you and his glare deepens.

"i don't need your help," the young boy hisses at you and you roll your eyes.

"really? you don't need my help even though you're crying in a corner all by yourself?" you scoff at him. he doesn't say anything in retaliation and you take it as an okay for you to help him.

you pull a handkerchief from your pocket; nothing too fancy as your family couldn't afford the finest silks like the nobles could. it's cotton, white, and had a simple design of a little sparrow emroidered in the corner.

"i don't have any bandages on me," you mumble softly. your little fingers gently wrap the handkerchief around the young boy's knee several times before tying a small knot on it. without even blinking, you lean down to kiss the wounded knee.

"what are you doing?!" the young boy exclaims, yanking his knee away.

"kissing it better," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "my mother always does that when i get hurt. she says it takes the pain away and makes it heal faster."

"that's stupid," the boy mumbles with a glare.

"says the one who tripped and fell and hurt himself," you argue back. you stick your tongue out when the boy shouts out a 'hey!' and roll your eyes.

"who are you and what are you doing here anyways?" you ask the young boy, kneeling beside him once more. he's still glaring at you, but it's less hostile than it was a few moments ago. "my mom said strangers aren't allowed to be here."

the young boys eyes are red, vibrantly so. the life in them burn brightly, reminding you of a fire as it flickers with warmth and a promise of a brighter tomorrow. like the hearth of a fireplace, the young boy seems to be the incarnate of warmth itself with the way he's filled with the flame of life.

"i live here, dummy," he quips back at you with a frown and your eyes widen.

"really? i've never seen you around, and i've been everywhere on this estate," you reply, bringing your thumb and forefinger to your chin as you remain deep in thought. truly, the only people you've managed to catch were all adults working for the master of this winery. never once have you seen a kid running along.

with a bright smile of your own, you lean towards the young boy. "we should be friends! since i don't know anyone else to play with here, we can play!"

the boy looks you up and down with furrowed brows, but he slowly nods. "...okay," he mumbles and you grin brighter.

"great! what's your name then? i'm-"

your name is shouted as hurried footsteps rush towards you. your mother pulls you aside as she looks at the young boy in front of you with panicked eyes.

"young master, i'm so sorry if my child said or did anything to hurt you," your mother says in a rush. she pushes your head down to bow in front of the young boy. she hisses something into your ear and you stutter out your own apology too, even if you did nothing wrong.

you find out the young boy you helped earlier that day was the son of the nobleman your mother works for, diluc ragnvindr. apparently, he's some big deal because he's the young master, but what kind of big deal hurts himself and hides between the barrels instead of asking for help?

you huff as you kick your feet sitting down by your bedside. because of the whole debacle, your mother had ordered you to stay inside to prevent even more debacles from happening even if you explained that the young master getting injured was not your fault. the sun shining from your windowsill feels so far away as you stare outside and ponder what to do.

until you hear a light pattering sound come from your window.

your curiosity is piqued as your small frame approaches the glass panes, wide eyes peeking over the wooden frame as your eyes scan the scenery.

the foliage of the trees surrounding your home cast shadows over your house with small animals running back and forth from the greenery above, causing the rustling of the leaves. the sun trickles in through the gaps of the leaves and your eyes settle on the boy with red hair standing outside your window, a small rock in his hand.

there's a proper bandage on his knee now as it was properly dressed, and his fiery eyes meet yours. he looks hesitant at first, but his brows furrow and his lips open to prepare to speak.

"...come outside and play with me," he tells you when you push open the window in your bedroom, a slight pout in his voice.

"you got me in trouble," you reply shortly, "and now i'm stuck inside because of you."

the young boy bites his lip, pondering what he could do or say to make things better. from the way he's thinking hard enough for you to see steam coming out of his ears, you could tell that he was trying really hard to think of anything to say.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles, kicking the dirt with his shoe.

"sorry, what was that?" you ask, holding your ear out.

the young master huffs, his cheeks puffed out in annoyance. he stomps his foot before-

"i said 'i'm sorry'!"

you smile at him smugly before crossing your arms on the windowsill. it was amusing to see the supposed young master like this; for such a renowned young boy, he was such a cry baby.

"okay, i can't go outside, but we can still play inside if that's okay," you tell him with a bright smile. "i'll let you in!"

"diluc..." he says, red eyes meeting yours. he reminds you of a fire with the way he's looking at you; so full of life but almost burning you if you get him too riled up. but the flames are tame now compared to the anxious flickers you saw earlier before he apologized.

"okay; i'll let you in then, diluc!"

ever since that warm summer, you and diluc have been inseparable; every afternoon is spent exploring the land of the winery but never straying far enough to get lost or end up on the other side of the lake where monsters lurk.

you were there the evening master crepus brought home another young boy around your age home; his blue hair reminding you of the blueberries your mother bought from mondstadt for you to eat. it was a bit of an adjustment with another young boy to play with, but soon you got along well with him as well.

his bright blue eyes always sparkling as you invite him to play alongside diluc and his little hand held in yours. he reminded you of the stars above with the way his eyes twinkle with youth and reflect the night sky above you when the three of you snuck out of your homes to stargaze with your hands holding onto each other until the morning sun began to rise over the horizon.

with your hands held tightly with diluc's and kaeya's, your youth together was only just beginning.

it's a cool morning where the early frost is beginning to melt as the sun continues to rise over the horizon, spreading her warmth and love across the fields of dawn winery. the young master has been gone for a couple days now; something about some sort of knight exam or whatever happening in the city of mondstadt. you would have gone with him, but your duties lie in caring for the winery whilst your friends head off to the heart of mondstadt to finish their training and hopefully become part of the knights of favonius that crepus ragnvindr had always encouraged them to be a part of.

you know having their father's praise meant a lot to your dear friends and you could only hope for the best for both diluc and kaeya as they were off doing their duties.

your ears perk as your name is shouted through the winery along with the sound of hooves rapidly against the dirt road. over in the distance, you can make out a red haired young man galloping over on his steed at near full speed. with wide eyes, you try to tell him to slow down before you get trampled and-

"oof!" you groan as a heavy body slams into you, both his weight and warmth tackling you to the ground. you're thankful that his arms cradled your head as you both go tumbling into the dirt road underneath you and the only pain was that of your body against the floor.

you don't even get to question why diluc had tackled you to the floor when he pulls his face away from you, giving you a clear view of his expression. he's smiling brightly, a wide grin on his face and his eyes of rubies twinkling brighter than any flame you've ever seen. the flames of his soul flicker brilliantly in his excitement and you can't help your own match his energy.

"i got in!" diluc says, his boyish smile growing wider. the small divots in his cheeks are cute and evidence of how hard he was grinning at the news. "i passed the trials got to do the oath swear and- oh, i wish you could've been there!"

despite growing up into a more mature-ish teen, it is moments like these where you're reminded that even as time passes and he grows taller than you, diluc is still the bright eyed boy that you've known since you were young. he looks so cute, in an endearing way, when he eagerly tells you all about his trials and how tough they were.

you really hope that the young master stays the same as he is now.

with a gentle hand, you reach up to ruffle his hair; it's soft to the touch and your eyes don't miss the way diluc pauses in his excitement as your fingers weave into his hair. you assume it's because he's not used to your praise and brush it off, even as he leans into your touch and waits for your words.

"why don't we head inside first? i want to hear everything that happened, but inside where it's warm and comfortable rather than on the dirt floor, diluc," you say to him, a slight lilt in your voice. you laugh softly when you see his cheeks flush a little in embarrassment before he gets off of you.

"i apologize, i was just so eager to tell you," diluc says softly, reaching down to offer a hand to you. you take his hand; you can feel the natural warmth emanating from his body through his gloves and, before you know it, you've been pulled up from the ground. his arm wraps around your waist to assure that you're balanced as you stand up.

"i just," diluc begins. you watch him as the young master of the winery averts his gaze briefly before he meets yours, warm rubies enveloping you with nothing but the comfort he holds for you ever since you were both younger.

"i wanted you to be the first person i told and to tell you."

a wave of something pleasant washes over you knowing that diluc, the heir of dawn winery and one of the most hardworking and talented man in all of mondstadt, rushed back home on horseback in the early hours of this chilly morning just to announce the news to you in person.

just so he could be your first in regards to his good news.

you laugh softly as something warm settles into the pit of your heart, squeezing his hand in yours as you tug him towards the main mansion of the winery estate with no intentions of letting his go for the time being.

even with the budding flowers of youth begin to bloom and the happiness that was promised to you has yet to come, you would have never expected for the spring of your youth to end so abruptly.

it happened all so quickly; crepus ragnvindr wielding a delusion, his death and the anger of diluc exploding, and the fall of your friendship with kaeya and diluc.

you weren't given the details of either one's situation, just a witness of a near death experience and the unforgiven apologies spewing from kaeya's lips as he held his injured eye in the midst of the rain washing down on them as if mourning both the loss of crepus ragnvindr and the wound wedged deep between the relationship of the ragnvindr brothers.

it was like in a mere second, the once warm diluc that would blush and hold your hand so delicately had been wiped away and replaced by a diluc grieving the loss of his father as the flames of his anger and betrayal of both his own brother and the knights of favonius for trying to brush the murder of his father under the rug explode and engulf his entire being.

he doesn't even give you a proper goodbye, leaving only a letter dedicated to you and his vision dimly glowing on his nightstand behind.

it feels like a fever dream when you hear the news of diluc finally returning after all of these years. you don't even hear it from the man himself; rather, from the whispers and excited chatter that the master of dawn winery had returned home.

part of you is excited at the news that he's alive; with no news of his existence after he ran from home in search of the truth behind his father's death other than the faint glow and warmth radiating from his vision clutched in your hands when you missed and worried for him, you were ecstatic knowing that he truly was home now.

that he's alive and breathing and still with you.

and yet, another part of you twinges in pain that he didn't come to you and announce that he was home. he had left you without even a single goodbye, not even bothering to visit you and explain his situation before leaving you questioning whether or not he even cared about how you felt about him.

of course, you aren't entitled to being the first to know, but after growing up together and usually being the first to know of everything in your youth, your heart aches knowing you were one of the last to hear of this at the winery.

it doesn't help knowing that you have not even caught a glimpse of diluc after his supposed return.

so imagine your surprise coming home one evening, the cool night air biting against your skin as you return home after a long day's work, seeing a figure leaning against your home.

at first, your blood turns cold as your heart races in your ears; it couldn't be anyone bad... the winery is a safe place and any suspicious figures are dealt with accordingly before they even step close to the winery grounds. you don't even have anything to defend yourself against if they did happen to be someone with malicious intent.

you take a step back to turn tail back to the estate but freeze when you begin to recognize the figure outside your door; red curls resembling that of flames flickering in the air and warm ruby eyes that you could recognize anywhere. despite standing in the dim evening light and having only the glow of the lantern outside of your home, you could make out the injuries through his dark clothing.

just what did he get himself into?

you hesitate at first, but eventually let your instincts take control as you begin to walk over to your home. it's as if you were both in the blooming stages of your youth again, bringing diluc home to mend his wounds after training for the knight exams.

caring for him was like muscle memory to you, even after all of the events leading to him leaving you in the dust.

you don't say a word as you open the wooden door and guide diluc in, pulling out a chair by the fireplace. wordlessly, he sits in it as you leave to prepare to clean his wounds.

your fingers shake ever so slightly as you remove diluc's coat from his shoulders, the heavy fabric falling to the floor with a thud. you apologize softly as you begin to unbutton his shirt and, as each button is undone and reveals more of his skin, your fingers begin to flinch every time your skin brushes against the skin of his chest.

his breath is warm, you can feel it against your skin as you slide off the remaining clothes on his torso. his chest is bare to you, and normally you would be gawking at how much he has physically changed since you were younger. but you cannot help but stare at how much he had been injured in the last few years you have seen him.

aside from the scratches from the most recent scuffle which led him to your quaint home beside his manor, scars litter his chest and arms. although most of them are healed, the damage that he had experienced was still evident on his skin and you hold back a gasp at how deep some of them had been; there's a huge scar that runs diagonally from the top of his chest to his stomach and you could already feel your stomach churning at the pain.

you couldn't imagine having to sustain those injuries for so long, and being alone through it all.

and, now, you hope that the injuries currently on his body heal faster knowing that he isn't alone this time. not when he has you by his side.

diluc's eyes burn holes into your skull as he watches you dip a towel into the bucket of warm water at your side; you pretend to ignore him. twisting the soaked cloth to rid it of the excess water, you gently begin to clean the wounded man in front of you.

a man you consider an old friend, but you fear he doesn't hold the same sentiment. not anymore.

it's quiet, the only sound shared between the two of you being the occasional sound of the towel dumped back into the bucket and the crackling of the fireplace in your living space. the moon casts her illuminating rays through the window of your home, but her light is nothing compared to the comfort of the fire in your home.

the comfort of the man in front of you, even if you didn't want to ever admit it to him now.

the glass jars containing the disinfecting ointment for diluc's wounds clink gently as you open them to spread over his skin.

"why are you helping me?" his voice breaks the thick silence between you two. his sudden question makes your hands pause, but you don't raise your head as you think of something to reply.

"and let an old friend bleed to death outside my door? you think i'm that heartless, diluc?" you ask him. your fingers resume their previous job of slathering the medicine over his new wounds. "i could say the same to you, why show up to my house like this?"

another silence follows your words and you assume he's done interrogating you for your kindness to him.

"i had nowhere else to turn to," diluc says after a while. your eyes catch his fists tighten on his lap as he takes another breath. "you've shown me nothing but kindness even after i was so cruel to you."

you exhale softly at his words. of course he thinks dealing with his own problems this entire time was the worst thing he could do to you. if you were being honest, it did hurt when he seemingly pretended you didn't exist or pushed you away when he had returned home from whatever he was dealing with away from mondstadt.

you had hoped for a joyful reunion, one filled with tears as you finally welcome home your old friend. but he never announced when he was coming home and you only figured out through the grapevine. he was never home when you looked for him and when you finally caught a glimpse of him, your eyes would meet for barely a second before he rushed off elsewhere and leaving you in the dust.

according to kaeya, his brother whom you've kept in touch with throughout the years. diluc had changed even more ever since his return; he kept his feelings to himself and his face remained 'constipated,' as per kaeya's words, due to his inner turmoil.

but from everyone else, he had always been so kind to them. the old women in the city would always praise how gentle the young master was, helping them walk across the city or carrying their groceries if they needed it. the young women also constantly swooned over how mysterious, yet warm-hearted diluc was; seemingly cold in nature but treating children and animals with such tenderness.

"it did hurt knowing you were ignoring me," you confess as your fingers begin to unravel the gauze to wrap over his wounds. "even if you wanted everyone to think you've changed and have become cold and guarded, i know you're still the same caring boy i've known since we were young. i hope so, at least."

his skin is warm to the touch, another feature you realize has never changed about your old friend. with bated breath, you lift your head to let your gaze finally settle on diluc's own. just as you predicted, despite the physical changes, you can still see the diluc you once knew within the scarred and older man in front of you.

diluc has definitely gotten older; the baby fat on his face slimming down slightly to reveal a more defined jaw and the bags under his eyes were evidence of his restless nights away from mondstadt. there are light scars on his face, nothing too deep to keep from his princely demeanor but are definitely proof of a troubling journey, and he has grown taller than the last time you had seen him in your youth.

but one thing that has never changed is the fire the lights up his eyes. so red and warm, you're tempted to hold his face in your hands to get a closer look. they're so vibrant, alive like the embers that flicker in the fireplace that lights your home, as they stare back at you in anticipation of your next words.

"you would never intend to hurt me on purpose. so if i should have to wait forever for you to be ready to come to me like you've had in the past, i don't mind doing so."

diluc's stoic expression wavers at your words. a sliver of guilt shines in his eyes and he looks away briefly as he digests the words you've spoken to him.

he couldn't tell you the reasons why he always kept you at arm's length; was he wary of your intentions for always being kind to him despite how he treated you or was he so used to people close to him lying to his face that he feared you were also pulling a facade?

or was he scared of you sharing the same fate as his family should he loved you with his heart on his sleeve, a fate of being held in his arms as he feels the warmth that once comforted him when you were young fade away like the embers in the hearth of a fireplace?

diluc did not want to know and he did not need to know, not when you're looking at him with such trust and compassion that he finds it hard to even hold any distrust towards you.

his dear friend from his youth who was always there to pick him up when he fell.

you did not break through the walls shielding diluc's heart for you had already found your place beside it, holding he's life with your gentle hands and protecting his soul's flames with your faith in him.

"i'm sorry," diluc apologizes to you, looking into your eyes. one of your hands is grabbed to be held by him, rough and scarred and so calloused as it held the memories and grief of what he went through to become like the man in front of you, the gauze held in your other. his warmth seeps into your skin, heating up your skin as the flames of his heart grow and encase your entire being within its embrace.

your lips part to say something, but he continues to speak.

"i thought keeping you away would benefit us both," he takes a breath as his eyes scan over your own features, taking in all that has changed since the last time he saw you in your adolescent years; how much you've grown both physically and emotionally. you look so much more mature than the naughty child who ran around breaking their mother's rules just to play with him or the dear friend who would bicker with him endlessly during their teenage years.

the years of their beautiful youth, years that he wished so dearly he could go back to and live in that peace for eternity.

but while the winds continue to blow and move time along, you've continued to stay the same despite the change.

you're still so kind, so inviting to someone like him.

you treat him like the friend you've remembered in your adolescence, even if his hands were bloodied with vengeance and his heart is scarred and wounded from betrayal and deceit.

he is still diluc, just diluc in your bright and beautiful eyes; he always had been.

his hands squeeze yours tightly, hoping that he has the courage to say what he wants to say.

"i don't deserve your kindness, or your love. but if i imagine a life where i have succeeded in pushing you away and we no longer talk," diluc begins, the fire in his eyes wavering as they hold your gaze.

"i don't think i would ever want to live a life where you're not in it."

diluc's words shake you to your core; it's something you wouldn't expect him to say now after all these years. as much as you want to immediately forgive him and push back the years of agony, waiting for any sign that he was alive while leaving his vision behind, or even watching as he ignores you despite being home after all these years, your heart aches knowing knowing he even did this to you in the first place.

"how can i know that you won't leave me like you did?" your voice is small despite being so close to him. in fear of having him see how much his actions have affected you, you face tilts down to your lap to avoid his gaze. "i can't just wait for you forever, it hurts sitting here all these years with a promise i don't even know if you'll keep."

you take a shaky breath as you speak again.

"you didn't even say goodbye."

your voice breaks as you say those words and you can feel the burning sensation as the tears threaten to spill over your eyes.

there's a moment of silence between the two of you before you hear him gently call out your name. his free hand reaches up to cup your face, tentatively guiding you to face him. he says your name again, softly as if even saying your name too harshly would cause you to break, and you hesitantly meet his gaze.

there's a tenderness that you recognize deep in those fiery pools in his eyes, one that flickers like the hearth of your fireplace and suddenly you feel like you're experiencing the most beautiful yet fleeting moment in life once more. diluc's thumb gently presses against your cheek to wipe away any tears that overflowed from your already wet eyes.

his pinky links with your own, a childish thing to do but one that you still hold dear to your own heart.

a promise between the two of you bathed in firelight and your youth reflected back at you in the shape of the young man sitting before you.

[rainyinautumn]

there's a parallel in last life that I don't see talked about as much as it deserves and so I'm going to dissect the ever-living hell out of it. remember the ghast farm incident? everyone remembers the ghast farm incident. Grian turns red, he starts knocking blocks of a bridge out from under Mumbo, "there's a way we can still be friends," etc etc etc. it's fantastic. WELL. two sessions earlier, there's a similar confrontation between Scar and Joel after Joel turns red, except the roles are reversed. Joel approaches and it's Scar who starts breaking blocks of the bridge, trying to put distance between the two of them. HOWEVER, the interesting difference here is that Scar is doing it not because he doesn't want to be Joel's friend anymore, but because he still wants to be. lets take a look at a transcript of part of that scene, shall we?

[Scar breaks several blocks of the bridge.] Joel: Scar, what are you doing? I know you're not my friend anymore, but come on, Scar. Not the bridge. Scar: I wanted to make an arrangement. Are- are we not friends? Joel: We can't be friends, Scar. We can't be friends.

Scar knows that Joel is a red life and that he might hurt him, but he still wants to be friends, so he's providing a way that they can be near each other while he isn't in any danger by putting a gap in the bridge. he even breaks it again when he comes by to chat later. during that chat, Joel reminds him of how dangerous he is, Scar says he "gets it," and then proceeds to let him continue living under magical mountain. Scar doesn't "get" that he needs to be cautious of Joel—what he "gets" is that he's taking a risk by letting him stay and that he's already accepted something might happen. and he's OKAY with that. Joel is red. he gets it.

now compare that to this excerpt from the ghast farm incident:

Grian: Y'know, Mumbo, there's a way we can still be friends. Mumbo: Yeah? Grian: Yeah. [he starts breaking blocks at of Mumbo's feet] You could join me.

with Joel and Scar, it's a red life choosing to step away from his friend in order to protect him, while said friend tries to find a way that they can still be near each other without placing himself in danger. with Grian and Mumbo, it's a red life choosing to try to take his friend down with him so that they can be near each other because he can't accept not being his friend. the fact that in BOTH scenarios the friendship is symbolized by a bridge being broken is a perfect illustration of one of Grian's lines from the ghast farm incident: "it was a bad idea for the wrong reasons." those friendships should have been a good idea, those bridges should have been a good idea, but now they provide a connection that isn't safe, and they all know that.

and I'm not done talking about this. no no no no no. this offers a FASCINATING insight into why desert duo is Like That. Scar would sooner let Grian kill him than have to stop being his friend. Grian would sooner kill Scar than have to stop being his friend. which is all kinds of perfectly fucked up and explains exactly why 3rd life ended the way that it did. it also makes the cactus scene from double life very interesting to think about. remember the cactus scene? it's a doozy.

Grian starts session by dropping a stalactite on Scar's head as a prank and (unintentionally) taking them down to two and a half hearts. Scar then retaliates by leaning against a cactus until Grian breaks it. he then leans against Yet Another Cactus until Grian breaks that one too, at which point they are at only one heart. a question I've been asking since that day is this: if Grian hadn't broken the cactus, would Scar have stepped away before it was too late?

using bridge theory, we can find an answer to this.

the answer is no.

this isn't necessarily because Scar is actively trying to get them killed—it's more because he knows with absolute certainty that Grian will break the cactus. he's not prepared to step away because he isn't worried he needs to. see, the difference between Grian and Scar is that Grian is willing to throw around the lives of other people to get what he wants, and Scar is willing to throw around his own life to get what he wants (the fact that what they really want out of all this is often the other's trust is an issue I will dissect another day). once again, last life is the perfect example of this. Grian steals a life from Scar right off the bat and gets another one out of him by force a few episodes later. meanwhile, Scar makes a business out of selling his soul and threatens Team BEST that he'll kill himself in order to go red life crazy on them. and they don't doubt him! and they SHOULDN'T doubt him, because Scar is the kind of guy that would do that! the same way that Grian is the kind of guy who will drop a stalactite on his soulmate's head but break the cactus he's leaning against.

Grian is willing to risk Scar's life, but he's not okay with Scar risking his own life, because he knows that he's completely willing to stand against a cactus until he dies if it makes a point. so Grian breaks it.

but Scar knows Grian as well as Grian knows him. Scar knows that this is hardly a risk at all. so he leans against the cactus a third second time.

[enchanteleclerc]

strawberries and cream 🂱 cs55

genre: 18+, literally pwp, fem!reader who’s the sister of carlos’ best friend?? LMAO

word count: 2.5k

You seem to enjoy the company of your brother’s best friend. Especially right now, over some breakfast of pancakes, thinking you may never look at strawberries and cream the same.

a/n … idk how my last post did pretty well but thank u all for the support !! still learning how to write smut (and write in general bc i never write in uni 💀) this was heavily inspired by that one serena and nate scene i hope u guys know which one i’m talking ab :))

warnings … penetrative sex, semi public sex, dirty talk (degradation and praise), unprotected sex, food, rough ish sex?

-

You don’t remember when it started. The butterflies, the stolen glances across a room. Ever since you could remember, Carlos was always around. But he wasn’t here for you; you had to remind yourself. Your brother’s best friend. And yet, neither of you could deny the tension between you both. The way your fingers brushed when you handed him your plate, offering to wash it for you after dinner, caused you to subconsciously hold your breath. ”Need some help?” Sauntering into the kitchen where Carlos was washing the dishes. You don’t miss how his lips turned into a smile upon seeing you. Picking up the dishes he just washed, you began drying them beside him, taking quick looks at him from the side of your eye but making sure he doesn’t see. Flipping a plate over, you accidentally splash him with water. Your hands immediately went to your mouth to apologise, but you couldn’t help the giggles pouring from you. “Yeah? You think that’s funny?” He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you still while turning the tap towards you, soaking the white oversized shirt you wore. Pleading for mercy, to which he loosened his grip, you retaliated by turning the tap onto him. Stepping through the puddle of water you both caused, he turned off the tap. ”Truce?” He sticks out his pinky for you to shake, which you take happily. Pinkies interlocked, you look up at him, still giggling, but the giggles dissipate when you look into his big brown eyes. His eyes held yours for a moment before travelling down your body to the white shirt that had gone translucent and stuck to your body, leaving almost nothing to imagination apart from your bra and panties. Carlos’ clothes were no better. His grey shirt had darkened and stuck to his torso, revealing the lines and curves of his toned stomach. ”What the fuck?” Your brother’s voice echoed between Carlos and you as if a strike of lightning. You both jumped away from each other but still connected through your pinkies. As if there was an invisible piece of string connecting you both. Clearing your throat and crossing your arms over your chest to hide yourself, you announce that you were heading up for bed, unwilling to let go of Carlos’ hand. You wonder how you could possibly fall asleep knowing that Carlos would be in the room beside yours. The answer to that question was reluctantly. However, you eventually fell asleep to Carlos’ light snores through the thin walls of the house. And the moment the snoring ceased, so did the little sleep you received. Early in the morning, you heard a door open. Well aware of your family’s ability to sleep into the late hours of the morning, you knew whose door that was. You were suddenly wide awake and wanting to run out your door to see him. Needing to regain some dignity after letting him see you basically half-naked yesterday, you decided against leaving your room immediately. After what you believed was enough time, you found yourself walking downstairs into the kitchen, where a figure was rummaging through the fridge. Despite only being able to see his back, you knew who it was, of course. That was a back you caught your eyes lingering on many times. The way his muscles flexed through the thin shirt had you in a trance. “You’re up early.” He returned the milk carton to the fridge before turning around to see you. You simply hummed back because you couldn’t form coherent thoughts when Carlos looked like this. Sleepy eyes looking back at you from the opposite end of the island, slightly obstructed by his hair that was messy and looked somewhat damp from a shower, you assumed. His voice, raspy from the morning, had your knees buckling. You sit on the island's counter to avoid the embarrassment of passing out simply because he spoke. ”Wow. He cooks and cleans. Is there anything you can’t do, Mr Sainz?” Your eyes flitted from the stack of freshly cooked pancakes to Carlos. His eyes unmistakably darkened at your use of “Mr Sainz”, but his head still shook with a low chuckle, placing his hand on your bare thigh. Picking a strawberry out of the bowl of toppings, you lean towards Carlos. He opens his mouth instinctively to accept the sweet fruit out of your hand, keeping his eyes focused on you and the way you bit your lip when the juice of the strawberry leaked from his lips. His eye contact broke only when your hand reached up to wipe the juice dripping down his chin with your thumb, only to place the thumb in your own mouth to suck off the juice. His eyes connect with yours again, and your close proximity is not lost on either of you. Your hand rests on his flushed cheek, the light stubble scratching your hand as his chest rises and falls. Carlos hums before wrapping his hands around your thighs to pull you towards the edge of the counter and moving in between your legs. Your faces were so close you could feel his warm breath from his slightly parted lips. He looked so pretty, like a prince straight out of Disney that you would have obsessed over when you were younger. You could’ve sworn you saw Carlos’ resolve crumble around you as his hands moved from your thighs to your head to catch your lips in a suffocating kiss. Years of sexual tension between you and Carlos finally being resolved had your head spinning in a whirlwind of lips, wandering hands and the taste of strawberries. The sudden action caused a squeal to leave your lips as your body connected with his, warm and hard. The feeling of his body in between your legs with your oversized shirt riding up and his clothed cock hardening for you from every minuscule movement you made, simply to find more friction and provoke him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one arm reaching for his back, feeling the tensing muscles through his thin shirt, the other tugging slightly at the hair on the back of his neck, eliciting a silent moan from his mouth. His lips move from yours to your neck, letting your head fall back, and your legs wrap around his torso. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging slightly before he tugs it over his head, revealing his perfectly toned body, lightly speckled with hair. His lips are on yours again before his hands rest on your hips, inviting you to move them against him. You gasped at the feeling of him right where you needed him, and he used your gasp to delve deeper into your mouth. His fingers grip your hips and pull your shirt up for a better view. The feeling of the cold air and his hands on your overheating body stimulate you beyond belief. You pulled away from the kiss to breathe and look down at the way you slot in perfectly with him. Carlos tilts your head to look at him and lets his thumb rub your swollen and bitten lips. Your lips attach to the skin of his chest, placing light kisses moving down his stomach. “Fuck. Need to feel your lips around me.” he groaned deeply before you pushed yourself off the counter. You find yourself on your knees for him pulling down his grey sweatpants and boxers to reveal his cock spring up. It was intimidating how big he was. If you weren’t so needy, you would’ve made a cliche comment about his size, but there was no need; Carlos already knew. He could tell by your face and subsequently chuckled. Looking up at him through half-lidded eyes while you stroke it, you observe the way his head falls back for a moment from the pleasure before landing back on you, focusing intently on what you’re doing as if he would rather die than miss this. His eyes bore into your own, but not with the chocolate brown colour you know so well. A darker tint of brown has invaded, causing your thighs to clench together. You place the head of his cock in your mouth. The warm feel of it causes an involuntary moan in you that is reciprocated by Carlos. His hand wrapped around your hair, guiding you along his cock and allowing you to take it in full. Caressing it with your tongue, Carlos’ grip on your hair tightened as the muscles in his legs clenched. Carlos has spent so long seeing you flaunt in short skirts and cropped tops around your house. Spent so long watching your long legs as you walked or when you crossed your legs as you sat. Carlos remembers the day he started feeling like this towards you. It was a hot summer day, and he volunteered to drive you and your brother to get ice cream. Seeing the way you lapped up the ice cream as it dripped down your hand and the moan you let out when the cold liquid touched your tongue haunted Carlos’ dreams for weeks. Dreams that resulted in him having to take a long, cold shower. On the drive home from the ice cream parlour, Carlos was silent and painfully hard in his pants as he avoided looking at you in the rearview mirror unless they wanted to completely drive off the road. Carlos couldn’t believe this wasn’t one of his many dreams. You were real and kneeling before him, letting him fuck your pretty little throat. Your cheeks hollowed and wrapped around him tightly before pulling it out and letting your tongue swirl around the tip, catching all the pre cum. Carlos’ small groans start speeding up, as does your mouth on his cock, but he pulls you away using your hair. ”Need to be inside you.” His hands find their way around your thighs again to lift you up and place you back onto the edge of the counter, ripping your panties off and discarding them somewhere in the kitchen. Dipping his finger in the bowl of whipped cream left for forgotten pancakes, he draws a line on the inside of your thigh, stopping before the apex and letting you suck the whipped cream off his finger. Your back connected with the cool surface of the kitchen island, unable to take this amount of pleasure as Carlos dropped his head between your thighs and began lapping up the whipped cream. The frustrated groan you released when Carlos’ tongue stopped before he reached your heat was disrupted when you felt him drag the tip of his cock up and down your needy folds with ease from how slick you were. Your hips rutted towards his, needing him inside you or at least some friction. Finally, he began pushing, feeding his cock into you. Your eyes clenched closed at the overwhelming pressure you felt. No other boy had stretched you out like this, but none of them were Carlos Sainz. The shared moan that left both your mouths once he bottomed out inside you was intoxicating. You shiver momentarily at the loss when he pulls out of you, but all was forgotten as he slams back into you again He was everywhere— around you, inside you. So overwhelmingly good you understood why you waited so long for this. ”Faster, please” Carlos’ grip on your hips tightened, hearing you begging for him, happily speeding up his pace, hearing your little whimpers from every movement. His hand reaches up to grab your tits, kneading and flicking your nipple to perfection. Carlos had to restrain himself from cumming when he saw how sensitive your nipples were and how you responded to him. ”Fuck you’re perfect. This pretty cunt— so wet. all this for me?” His hand left your tits to attack your clit, rubbing in small circles that had you throwing your head back in pleasure. “Answer me.” He ceased his movements on your clit and began thrusting agonisingly slow. You tried moving your hips to find some friction, but his hands pressed your hips into the counter to stop you from moving. ”Fuck Carlos. It’s all for you. It’s always been you.” Carlos sped up once more. Faster than before. Faster than you thought was humanly possible. The sound of an alarm clock upstairs caught you off guard, the thought of someone— let alone your brother finding you like this. Fucking his best friend. And yet, the tightening feeling in your core didn’t disappear but got stronger. ”Please, can I cum?” He slows down, staving off your orgasm. Unable to move your own hips, Carlos set the pace, and apparently, Carlos did not care that someone could walk downstairs at any moment. He wanted to relish in this moment. The feeling of you beneath him and begging for release. He wanted this image to be ingrained into his memory for the rest of his life. “Cum for me, cariño.” Your legs shaking and releasing a moan that was much too loud for comfort, your orgasm hit you at full force. His hand slammed over your mouth to prevent anyone from hearing, although Carlos would love for the whole neighbourhood to hear you scream his name. His thrusts didn’t cease through your orgasm. Instead, they sped up. Twitching inside of you, he asks where you want it. ”Inside me, please. Fill me up.” Mumbling behind Carlos’ hand that was still firmly over your mouth and was now covered in your spit. Without warning, you felt it. Like a warm flood within you, pushed around by Carlos’ slow thrusts. His cum trickled down your thigh when he pulled out, and you both stood there in silence, listening to each other’s heavy breathing. Footsteps walking down the stairs sprung you both into action, however. Wide eyed for a moment before frantically adjusting your shirt back on and Carlos pulling up his sweatpants with no time for his shirt. ”Morning.” Your brother rubbed his eyes as you and Carlos stood behind the island. No panties on you. No shirt on Carlos. Both were discarded somewhere in the kitchen and soon to be found by your brother. “What are you guys doing? Where’s your shirt, mate?” Your brother’s eyes went between Carlos and you as you pretended to just notice that Carlos had no shirt on. ”Oh, pancakes. You want some?” Your brother offering you as if he was the one that made it. You shook your head before seeing the way your brother loaded his pancakes up with strawberries and whipped cream. You had to bite your lip to hold in a laugh as Carlos’ cheeks flushed. Walking behind your brother, you find your panties and Carlos’ shirt, sending him a wink before walking back upstairs with the clothing items in hand. Leaving Carlos to deal with your brother and the pancakes that were now cold.

-

[bunniidollii]

trailerpark!rafe 🤝 spanking like need i say more

it was the small things that set you off, always leaving you in a bad mood for the rest of the day whilst rafe had to deal with your attitude. he tries his best to be patient, but when the whining turns full temper tantrum, he’s had enough and is quick to bend you over his knee. at home it’s easy, the car is risky yet still possible, but in public, you’d find yourself escorted (practically manhandled) to the nearest empty room. and that’s how you found yourself, mid summer bbq, hips uncomfortably trapped between the sink and your boyfriend’s form leaning over you. first it was because the dress you had planned on wearing turned out to have a massive stain all down the front. then rafe took too long getting ready, and you ended up late. they then ran out of veggie burgers, so you were stuck eating the squeaky halloumi while your boyfriend devoured his burger. a neighbour had made a comment about the length of your skirt, which left you snappy with anyone else who attempted to make conversation with you. it was after a nasty run in with your aunt who had never approved of your relationship, that led to rafe pulling you into the small downstairs bathroom. he was quick to flip up your skirt to expose your backside that was barely covered by the white lace you were wearing. his calloused hands pulled at the thin material, causing your hips to rise slightly to avoid the friction and a whine to leave your lips. a hand was placed over your mouth, and rafe tugged harder on your panties in response, before finally speaking.

“you havin’ fun embarrassin’ me out there, with all your whining— hey, don’t you go stomping your feet now” his gruff voice was cut off when you tried to do your usual attempt of retaliation by stomping your feet and whinging until rafe gave in. annoying him beyond extent always got you your way, while the little punishments to try and stop you only spurred you on.

“things weren’t going my way—” you were cut off by a sharp slap on your ass as rafe pulled your panties impossibly higher, with the friction against your clit causing you to let out a light moan. “things don’t always go your way, kiddo, you gotta learn to deal with that.” another slap as his free hand snaked around your throat, “cant be going round havin’ a big ol’ tantrum when something don’t end up how you wanted it to, s’not how real life works.”

rafe gave you another few slaps, leaving a blush of red subtle enough to not draw attention when you returned to the bbq. “you gonna stop being such a crybaby now, doll?” you were turned around, still wedged between your boyfriend and the counter, but facing him instead. he could see the tired look in your eyes and knew you were bordering past your social battery. you just latched your arms around his neck, rafe following your cue as he picked up your legs to wrap them around his waist, picking you up and setting you down on the counter. you just pawed at the collar of his shirt, not bothering to look up at him as you sank into his embrace. “gotta handle just an hour longer, and then we can head on home, alright? and we can forget all about today in a bit, i’ll take care of that, don’t you worry.”

“yes daddy” the familiar doe eyed look on your face as you stared up at rafe with nothing but adoration in your eyes.

“‘s rafe, baby” he reminded you before placing a quick peck on the lips as he helped you rearrange yourself to your former socially acceptable state. he guided the two of you out, and you stood happily by his side for the rest of the evening with the hope of rafe fucking you brainless when you got home.

[cordeliawhohung]

not canon pet!au drabble/one shot.

simon needs to fix johnny's new toy

cw: overall theme of non-con, drugging, medical horror, at home do it yourself iud insertion, dark fic, dead dove do not eat, i'm being so fucking for real when i say simon literally inserts an iud into you himself

You hate to admit it, but Simon’s a good cook. 

Everything he puts on your plate for every meal is fresh and cooked from scratch. Each night when he comes home from work, he’s always got a fresh cut of meat — turkey, chicken, beef — and the vegetables are newly bought, if not recently picked from his garden. The spicy aroma fills the house, calling both you and Johnny to the table before he even speaks, and each bite is as mouth watering as the last. 

It is, perhaps, the only thing he knows how to do with love and care. You catch him cooking every now and then, and stick around to watch for a short moment as he carefully dices potatoes and slices meat. His touch is more tender than the flesh of the animals he butchers for a living, but you are quickly reminded how sharp his claws are the moment you’re seated at the table. 

He won’t stop staring. Dark, endless eyes watch every single movement of yours meticulously, as if he’s waiting to pounce on prey. Instead of glancing at him, you try to distract yourself with Johnny’s chatter. He always seems to have something to say; something to share. It’s odd, for a man who’s trapped inside of the house all day, same as you, he seems to never run out of conversation topics. Yet his words become slurred. Or… no, is it your hearing? You’re underwater with clogged ears and heavy weights keeping your head under, muffling the world around you. Pressure builds on top of your chest, and instead of trying to listen to Johnny, you put all your effort towards breathing. 

When your fork clatters on top of your plate, the clink echoes endlessly. It’s only then that you’re able to look at Simon — to come face to face with the monster who’s lured you once again. 

“Bonnie?” Johnny asks, concern soaking your new name on his tongue. 

Even if you could answer, you know better than to bother with an explanation. This feeling — this terrible, drowning sensation — is something you’re familiar with. You faced this very same demon your last night at work; the night Simon kidnapped you. 

“Johnny,” Simon interrupts. He stands from his seat, food half eaten on the table. “Help me get your bitch to the bedroom.” 

Nothing connects after that. Not the stale scent of blood that fills your nose, nor the floating feeling that lifts you up from the table and drags you elsewhere. You are not in your body. Not when you’re laid down on the bed. Not when your clothes are tugged off, leaving you bare to the brightness of the room. Something sears your eyes. Something bright and yellow, trained on you — blinding you. A specimen, ready to be torn apart. A toy, ready to be fixed. 

You want to sleep. Sleep through the terrible rocking of your body and the twisting sensation that pulses inside of you. Something’s slipping inside of your cunt. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel good, but you can’t make sense of it. You try to mumble something out — a plea to stop, that you can’t get pregnant — please, Johnny, you know what Simon said would happen to me if you got me pregnant —  but it hardly forms on your lips before you’re choking on it. 

Pain blossoms in a place you’ve never felt before. It’s deep, and cruel; unrelenting as it throbs and shoots throughout your pelvis. It steals what little breath you’re able to suck into your lungs, and tears prick the corner of your eyes as something pinches and radiates outwards. Whatever this is, it’s taking something from you. It’s taking, and taking, and it won’t stop. 

Your hips buck upwards in retaliation, trying to free yourself from the pain, but it only gets worse. Something tears through you, and you cry out an animalistic wail. Your hands reach for your lower stomach where you paw at your skin as if you can rub away a pain as deep and evil as this. Like you’d claw through your own organs to get it to stop. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny, I told you to keep her still,” Simon barks. 

Someone presses on your hips, forcing your body back on the bed, but that doesn’t stop the way your chest shudders as you hyperventilate. Warm breath fans across your face as heavy lips press gentle kisses over your cheeks. Salty tears stream out of your eyes and down the side of your head, pooling along the shell of your ear and soaking the comforter below you. A firm chest presses against yours, pinning you, forcing you to stay still as the pain continues, this time with fervor. 

“Hey, hey, Bonnie, it’ll be fine. S’all gonna be okay. Just need ya to hold still for Simon. Please, don’t make this difficult. C’mon Bonnie, you don’t have to cry,” Johnny babbles at you. Each sentence is broken with a kiss, like he can smother away your discontent with whatever his interpretation of love is. “It’ll be fine, just- just stop moving. Don’t… don’t make me, Bonnie, I don’t wanna fight you. Stop it, please Bonnie. You’ll be fine. It’ll stop soon, just stop it.” 

But it doesn’t. It continues. Skin ripping. Flesh peeling. Is this how the animals feel at Simon’s work? Torn apart. Ripped to shreds. Are you handled with the same care he uses when slaughtering creatures who don’t know any better? Is it easier for them than it is for you? Is this the same kindness he shows everything else? 

Johnny is a liar. It’s not fine. It hurts. And hurts. And hurts. And then it aches. 

Whatever Simon’s done to you, it’s finished, and it’s left you with a hole burning through your pelvis. You’ve never been so empty, so void of something like you are now. Johnny’s praises taste bitter as he kisses your lips now, warm hands wandering along your stomach. You’re certain he thinks it’s comforting. Loving, even. But it’s the opposite. It’s the painful reminder that while Simon takes, and takes, and takes, Johnny will always fill you whole with something stale and rotten. 

“There,” Simon huffs. Normally, the sound of his boots stomping on the wood floors of the house makes your heart race, but you’re just glad he’s finished torturing you. “One week. You hear me, mutt?” He yanks on Johnny’s collar, forcing his face away from yours. “One week, and you can play with her all ya like.” 

Johnny responds, but you don’t care to make sense of it. All you can do is lay there, flat on your back with your eyes closed, and pray. You’ve never been one for praying. God has never helped you before, and he certainly isn’t going to help you now, but you can at least curse the son of a bitch out while the blood spills out of you and stains the supple flesh of your thighs. 

i wrote this in one go after work forgive any mistakes <3

[trumpkinhotboy]

prank war | p.l

pairing. paul lahote x reader

type. requested <3

warnings. curse word?

word count. 1.4k

a/n. since i don't like writing summaries lmao, i think i will make it kind of official when writing requests that if you want to know what it will be about click the link to the request :) this was so fun to write this is def crack BAHA i hope you will enjoy mwah xx

"Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Absolutely positive."

"But what if-"

"Em," you gave your friend a severe look. Emily always tended to be too kind, but this you could not let her sensitive nature make your plan fail. "Might I remind you that we are cruelly losing this battle of pranks? Jared, Embry, and Quil have been launching us. This is our time to make a stand."

"I know but… I still feel a little bit bad about it."

"Do you remember when they put confetti absolutely everywhere in the house? We had to clean that mess for weeks. I think there is still some confetti on my body in places where there shouldn't be."

Emily was a neat freak, she did not tolerate any mess. You knew how she hated that particular prank and how it would be an easy way to rile her up. You smiled when you saw her gaze suddenly turn very dark and resolute. Bulls eyes. Without further questioning, she joined you.

Your plan for retaliation was quite simple, but you knew it would hit your enemies right where it hurt. After a few internet searches, you settled on baking the most horrible and foul muffins known to the human realm. The boys were huge eaters so first, you knew they could never resist the temptation of a hot basket of muffins. Second, they were all known for their sensitive stomachs. It was a classic yet very effective prank. You looked like mad scientists incorporating literally any ingredients possible into the mixture giving it a strange color.

"I don't think it can get worse than that," declared Emily as you looked at the finished product.

You examined the bowl on the counter, feeling like you were missing an essential element. "Wait! There's one more thing we can add."

You went over to the pantry and proudly held up the bottle of extra spicy sauce the boys were keeping for special occasions, aka when they wanted to burn from the inside out.

Emily applauded your genius and watched excitedly as you dropped some in the mixture, then some more, and just a tiny bit more until you had poured at least one table cup of hot sauce into the bowl. If the original mixture didn't make them sick, this would for sure.

"This is a work of art Em, we can be proud of ourselves."

You high-fived and rapidly cooked the muffins before the boys returned from their run.

Your opponents were werewolves, with incredible sense of smell. So you knew you had to be smart about it. Especially since they knew a prank might fall upon them at any given moment. You had planned everything to a T. When returning home, Quil, Jared, and Embry were usually the ones who came in first, which you counted on as you didn't want to prank the rest of the pack. Emily had smartly accounted for the boys' suspicion and made sure to bake two safe-to-eat muffins from the batch so you could fool the three guys into eating.

You made sure to use food coloring to give the muffins a rich brown color and sprinkled cinnamon along with a few other herbs on the muffins to make sure they would smell mouth-watering. You cleared away any hint of your actions and did it so well that when the boys arrived, no one could ever think something was going on.

You welcomed them joyfully with your best angelic smiles. As expected, it didn't take them long to notice the muffins, Quil even going as far as reaching out a hunger-crazed hand towards the bowl.

"Wait," suddenly cut Embry with a suspicious look in your direction. He slapped his brother's hand away. "What's the special occasion?"

Like professional actresses, you and Emily looked at each other. "Since when do we need special occasions to bake muffins?"

You rolled your eyes when Embry bent down to take a big whiff from the basket, but still lost a relieved breath when he didn't seem to smell anything out of the ordinary.

"Why aren't you two eating any?" skeptically asked Jared.

"Because we ate so much filling we might puke but if it reassures you I don't mind taking a bite."

You reached your hand out for Emily to pick the safe muffins from the basket and prayed she didn't mix them up. You leveled your stare at the boys and took a huge bite.

When the cinnamony and chocolate flavors hit your tongue you sighed with relief, putting your reaction on account of the amazing taste. "Delicious as always."

Your performance seemed to reassure them but they didn't grab any yet. Anxiousness rose in your body, you needed to get them to eat before the others came in.

They were still hesitating when Paul barged in, quickly kissed you on the cheek, and grabbed a muffin.

"Paul wait-" "Gonna take a shower," he muffled between chewing.

You stare at the doorway through which he disappeared, astonished. It happened so fast. You couldn't have warned him or else the other three would have known something was up. You turned to look at Emily with panic in your eyes. Her face was blank, her hands gripping the counter. Both of you were paralyzed, what should you do? Were you taking it too far by letting your boyfriend eat the nasty mixture just so you wouldn't raise suspicions?

You stayed paralyzed in the dilemma when finally Embry, Quil, and Jared each grabbed a muffin as you and Emily stared in silence.

They had eaten a good half of it when suddenly you heard Paul screaming and cursing in the bathroom. Everybody looked in the direction of the sound when he stumbled in already wet from the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS IN THESE?"

Immediately, the three other boys looked at each other, then at you two. As if Paul's apparition had triggered the effect of the baked goods, sweat started dripping down their face, a disgusted rictus twisting their mouths.

They stared with horrified expressions. "What did you do?" asked Embry before he ran for the kitchen sink.

Even if you felt guilty Paul had been caught in the crossfire you couldn't help but feel a deep satisfaction as you stared at the three boys pushing each other and fumbling to get a sip of water. A sentiment clearly shared by your partner in crime when Emily said with an innocent smile. "What did we do? We baked you some yummy muffins of course. Isn't that right Y/n?"

"Why yes, we even added a few special ingredients to make sure you guys loved them." You added with a mischievous smile towards the three crying grown men still fighting for access to fresh water.

"That'll teach you right for putting confetti everywhere in MY house," finished Emily, leaning close to them.

They looked at her with what was sure to be fear in their eyes.

"I'm done I'm calling dibs on the bathroom sink," moaned Quil as he ran for the tiny room.

"I'm taking the hose outside!" cried out Jared.

Emily and you couldn't keep your cool from your devastating victory and started dancing around the kitchen, the grunts of pain in the house the most delicious melody to your ears. You were still laughing when you heard heavy steps enter the kitchen. Paul was standing in the doorway, still wet, still with a towel on but this time there was a half-drunk milk cartoon in his hands. A few droplets slid down his chest and the view might have even been appealing if the expression on his face wasn't so terrifying.

He took a step in your direction. "Baby I promise you weren't supposed to eat one of those. It was only for them. I'm so sorry!!"

"You could have warned me, tell me to stop,” he growled.

"But then they would have known. I'm so so sorry my love I promise I'll make you forgive me."

You kept walking back, hands up. Never a half-naked man had scared you this much.

"Oh, you will definitely pay for this." He dropped the milk on the table nearby. "And I think we will start by giving you a little swim in the cold sea."

"Paul it's freezing outside today!!" You protested with a panicked look towards the foggy forest.

"Should have thought about that before sweetheart.”

His lips curved in a diabolical smile as he leaped. You screeched and ran outside knowing damn well there was no way you could escape this.

[stellarbit]

The Batch Comfort You

Word Count: 2.1k Pairing: One excerpt for each of the boys Warnings: Nada Anon requested the Batch reacting to you saying, "I'm so stupid! Seriously, how can you stand to be around someone like this?" So here we go

You'd made another mistake, adding to the already colossal pile of ones you'd made recently. And worse, your whole team lay witness to the most recent. Upon landing for refuel, everyone besides you took the opportunity to stretch their legs. Everyone else except for one.

"You shouldn't let it get to you." They said, seeing that you were clearly still upset. "Just let it go."

In a burst of misdirected frustration you snapped at them, "I'm so stupid. Seriously, how can you stand to be around someone like this?!" You stormed off towards the ship's exit.

Tech

Tech watched you slump against the Marauder’s step. Your elbows were resting on your knees while your head hung between your shoulders. A quick shake ran through you, a suppressed heave marked only by the fast motion. 

Gripping his datapad tighter, Tech considered what to do. This was an irregular response from you and not one he necessarily knew how to navigate. But he was certain of one thing.

Tucking his datapad away, Tech descended the stairs and took up a seat next to you.

You were quick to duck your head into your hands, but not quick enough for Tech to miss the wet streaks staining your face. Turning his eyes forward, Tech afforded you what little privacy the situation allowed.

The technician rubbed his hands over his thighs, preparing himself one last time before saying, “It is not unusual for one to become frustrated with one’s flaws and mistakes.”

One might describe that sound you made as a choked laugh, others may have called it a sob. Which it was, Tech could not say for sure.

“Flaws and mistakes.” You parroted in a cracked voice. “Two things I’m full of.”

Tech glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Yes. As all humans are.” Your answer, another strangled sound, gave Tech pause. Running his hands over his thighs in another soothing motion, he clutched his knees. His attempts at helping were clearly doing the opposite. 

Maybe if he tried another approach… “By chance, do you know the definition of ‘stupid?’” Tech asked.

On an exasperated sigh, you lifted your head to finally turn your tear stained, blotchy face to Tech. “Lacking knowledge and making mistakes.”

Tech made a thoughtful hum and pivoted slightly to face you. “You are partially correct. However the complete definition would be ‘having a lack of intelligence or common sense.’”

You blinked before giving an empty shrug and scoffing. “How is that any different?”

Tech bit the inside of his cheek, this topic was quickly putting him out of his depth. But he wanted to help - to see you happy and sure of yourself again.

Clearing his throat, Tech looked away momentarily as he asked. “Do you find me intelligent?”

“Of course.” You replied without pause. 

Turning to face you again, Tech hummed, “Well, I am currently struggling to comfort you at this moment.” He rolled one shoulder in a half shrug. “Some might surmise that is a result of lacking common sense and, by definition, that would make me stupid.”

“Tech you are not stupid.” Your tone was defensive, almost offended that Tech would insinuate such a thing.

“Neither are you.” He retaliated.

You blinked once, then twice, and a wobbly smile cracked to the surface. “Thank you, Tech.”

Tech smiled, patting your shoulder before using you as support to stand up. “It is something I am happy to remind you of in the future, should you need it.”

Wrecker

Wrecker trailed after you, taking steps two at a time to cut your path short. You stood on the last step, eyes cast downwards and shoulders shaking. Wrecker’s heart ached as he realized you were trying so hard not to cry.

“Hey, hey.” He said as took your hand in his. As he feared, even your hand was shaking. Wrecker knelt to the ground, gently guiding you down with him. “What’s all this all of the sudden?”

You blinked, attempting to keep back the tears, but it didn’t stop the sob to come. “I’m sorry.” Your voice warbled. Shaking your head, you kept your gaze lowered. “I can’t even keep it together.”

The large man extended a hand to tilt your chin up with a knuckle, but you still refused to meet his gaze. Wrecker took his knuckle and brushed away a few tears only for more to take their place.

“You’re not stupid.” Wrecker said firmly.

Unconvinced, you whispered back, “You’re my friend- you have to say that.”

“Oh, no I don’t.” Wrecker twisted on his heals, pivoting to get in your sights and finally pull your watery attention to him. When you met his gaze a wide grin spread across Wrecker’s face complimented by a wink. “I’m saying it because I know it.” Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Wrecker got to his feet and extended a hand, palm up, to you

“Besides,” Wrecker started saying in a light tone, wiggling his fingers in invitation to you. Rolling your eyes, you conceded and placed your hand in his. Wrecker immediately lifted you to your feet. “I like you ‘cause of the way you make me feel.” He stood on his toes to playfully whisper, “And for how pretty you are.”

You scoffed hard, giving him a light push back. The blush his compliment gave you only made your face all the redder. “Well that doesn’t make me feel better. You’re half-blind, Wrecker.”

Wrecker chuckled triumphantly. “Ha! There it is.”

“What?”

Using both hands, Wrecker held the side of your face, still damp from crying, and touched the corners of your mouth. “Your smile.”

Again, his comment made your stomach flutter. You hadn’t even realized you were smiling.

Echo

Echo caught you by your elbow, pulling you back to meet his eye.“Oh no you don’t.” He said in an almost scolding tone.

“Let go.” You grunted as you tried to pull away, but Echo held fast. Your eyes darted between his hold on you and his eyes. 

Turning you to face him fully, Echo pressed on, “You can’t give up every time it gets tough.”

You recoiled. “I’m not giving up.” You were quickly going from upset to offended and Echo could see it. The situation didn’t call for the militant approach. 

Echo sighed, releasing you as he did. “A bad situation got the better of you and you call yourself stupid?” The cyborg gave a disapproving shake of his head. “That’s giving up on yourself.” His call out instantly deflated what little energy you had left. Watching your shoulders drop, Echo thought to himself, Softer, soldier. 

Coming to your side, Echo placed a hand on the small of your back, mumbling softly. “C’mon.” Guiding you into a chair near the nav screens, he took a seat across from you.

“Listen,” Echo’s voice was softer than usual. He leaned in to touch your knee, continuing, “Not everything is going to go well, that’s just a fact of life. But all you can do is learn and move on. So, stop beating yourself up so much.”

Somehow he was riling you up further. It was as if you were offended he would even try to challenge you on this. You leaned in sharply, hissing, “I do move on. Then I mess up and I move on and mess up again. And on and on I go with a trail of fuck ups behind me.”

“There are wins in there too.” Echo challenged, firming his grip on your knee. His hazel eyes darted between yours, his features softening as he chuckled, “Your enemies better be glad for all this self doubt of yours.” He patted your knee and leaned back in his chair.

“Why?” You asked hesitantly.

“Because if you believed in yourself half as much as I believe in you, there’s nothing you couldn’t do.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Your eyes fell to where his hand had been, considering what he just said. Your stomach flipped over when you met his eyes again. “You really mean that?”

“I really mean that.” He’d barely gotten the words out when your arms made it around his neck. Echo sat still, hands flared at his sides, as you nestled into you.

“I can do that.” You said into his shoulder.

Echo softly smiled, allowing his hands to rest on your back. “Do what?”

He felt you smile into his neck as you said, “Believe in me like you do.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Echo hummed, leaning his head against yours.

Crosshair

“Oh, get over it.” Crosshair’s snarky tone stopped you mid step. Turning back, you watched him prop out a foot and put a toothpick between his lips. “Something went wrong. It happens. Moping about solves nothing..”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. Tossing a hand in his direction you said, “You are good at everything you do. You’ve no idea what it’s like to be like me.”

A snarl curled Crosshair’s lip. The reaction wasn’t meant for you, but for whoever made you believe you were less. He rolled the toothpick in his mouth to one side before removing it completely. 

Stepping forward, Crosshair pointed the toothpick at you and drawled, “Stop the dramatics, you’re fine the way you are.”

The realization that Crosshair was complimenting you pricked you with shame. You must look pretty pathetic for Crosshair to be pitying you. Your lips pressed into a tight line in an attempt to hold your composure. “You don’t mean that.”

Crosshair’s eyes momentarily widened. He was used to you fighting and your strong spirit. Hearing you sound so defeated - so worn down - pulled at something in him.  He closed the gap between you and muttered. “I don’t lie.”

His sudden proximity caught you off guard and brought with it the smell of mint and gun oil. You couldn’t control the reflexive inhale you took. If nothing else, he did a fine job of distracting you. You were so distracted you flinched when he rested a hand on your head. 

Gently, he stroked his hand over your hair. “Everyone has their moments.” A soft smirk perked his lips as he added, “Even me.”

“You’re being awfully nice.” You said softly, sounding more breathless than you had intended

Crosshair’s smirk grew. Snorting, he flicked you in the forehead. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Wincing as you rubbed your forehead you asked, “Then you mean it?”

Groaning, Crosshair rolled his eyes and pulled you by the chin. “I won’t say it again.” He said gruffly. In a lighter tone he continued, “You are not stupid. You’re fine the way you are.”

The sniper paused, watching as your words sunk in. He was starting to enjoy seeing these new expressions. He just needed one more push. “Got it, sweetheart?”

His words sent a chill up your spine. A satisfied smirk settled on him as heat singed your cheeks and ears. “Much better.”

Hunter

Hunter let you go, but kept an eye on you as you made for the outskirts of camp. He knew what it was like to be mad with yourself and he knew sometimes a little space helps. Eventually you did make your way back inside.

You checked for Hunter, hoping to sneak over to the fresher without his notice. Until you were toweling off your face, you thought you’d succeeded. Until you lowered your towel, found Hunter standing a few paces away and nearly jumped out of your skin.

He raised his hands, one holding a warm cup of caf and the other holding a ration bar. “Easy there.” He chuckled warmly.

A flush crept up your neck as your earlier shame reared its head again. Twisting the towel between your hands, you nervously laughed out an apology. Nodding to the items he held, you asked, “Afternoon snack?”

Hunter didn’t answer, but smiled at you and nodded towards the bunks as he stepped back towards them. For a moment you forgot your embarrassment and followed Hunter to the bottom bunk. He put the food in your hand and gestured for you to sit. Once down, Hunter sat right up against you and put the warm cup in your free hand.

You stared at your now full hands for a few blinks before looking back at Hunter with more confusion. With a soft laugh he wrapped an arm around you. “Feeling better?”

You silently nodded in response for fear of your voice cracking.

Hunter seemed pleased, having contemplated during your absence how best to comfort you. Not one for many words, he resorted to simple gestures. “Decaf,” he mentioned, tapping the rim of your mug. “A warm drink and a bite to eat always seem to help.” He began gently rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm.

“Hey.” Hunter’s voice dropped to a softer tone, “You’re not stupid. You do your best everyday. You might not see it, but we all do.” He gave your arm a light squeeze and added, “So, have a little more faith in yourself.”

Your eyes fell to the caf and ration bar again, your grip on the cup tightening. “And what if I keep failing?”

Hunter shook his head, “That kind of thinking doesn’t do anyone any good.” He leaned forward to catch your eyes. “All we can do is keep going and try to be better.”

Clearing the lump forming in your throat and took a sip of the warm drink. Hunter was right, the caf did help.

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