#and turns out I can't explain why because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[medicinemane]

Well, I'm getting to do therapy, ultra mega super fucking extreme edition for my mom today

She's having a fucking breakdown cause GOP cost cutting means medicaid is being a bitch and being like if you're on medicare you no longer qualify for medicaid unless you can work and then and only then will we let you do a buy in

It's bullshit, it sucks, it's a stupid and broken system and someone being on disability should count as any work, but she's having one of the most extreme fucking breakdowns of all time over it

Like we're talking going on about how it's all her fault that the cats died who were living in the trailer cause of how toxic she let that place become, or that she's an utterly selfish person... and I'm sat here having to find ways to spin shit because she puts me in a position where in order to get her functional... what? I say "yeah, pretty much"?

Then she's like "I apologize for anything I've ever done to you", not accepted and never will be. You're doing shit to me right this fucking second with this

There's no atonement and that's kind of tough shit, and maybe if you wanted atonement don't make me parent you right now

I'm having to talk her down from being suicidal, cause I'm fucking Machiavellian with shit and I need that disability check to keep coming in

She's crying and just having the biggest breakdown she's probably had since one of my worst memories which I'm actively working to suppress cause I can't deal with it right now. She's fucking going over the various ghost shit and apologizing for it, and it's like I don't fucking care, stop fucking trying to pure and make yourself the horror that made everything awful... you're pretending to take responsibility, but what you're really doing is demanding I absolve you of everything

You know, the shit she's saying and the shit I was saying yesterday aren't that different. We both think we're hugely worthless pieces of shit who are totally unlovable (and my grandma is probably to blame for both mindsets)

Difference is that for as much as I downplayed it and said it didn't even count as cleaning, I was fucking moving like 10 boxes around to try and get things in a state where I can figure out how to clean shit, where as she's a totally nonfunctional mess

Like as much as everyone seems to want to bitch about when I'm... literally just trying to share how not ok I'm doing as best I fucking can, even when I'm at my lowest I'm still trying to work on shit

...also, one thing that's different between her and me is I've never been emotionally incestuous with my kid to the point where the very concept of family makes them sick, made them be my parent, and am now forcing them to be my therapist despite the fact the emotionally engaging with them is one of the single most destructive things I can do

I don't know... I'm real shit today, I'm gonna have to be in the car for like 4 but really more like 6 hours with her cause of the way she drives, cause I've got to go see family today and it's gotta be today cause that's when my uncle's around

I'm basically... fucking animating myself, like I'm in that state where you're not letting yourself fall apart cause you gotta hold it together cause you don't have a choice (oh, and I haven't fucking slept cause right when I was gonna go to bed I got summoned to come play therapist)

I'm shit right now, and I was already in a bad way... and in fact I'm doing so badly that I can't even maintain my normal fucking facades and politeness... nope, turns out that's not true and in fact my facades run deeper than I do and I 100% am still not gonna say certain things

But yeah, it's a shit day, one of the worst in a while cause it's probably the worst my mom's been in like... two decades... so that's fucking great huh?

Bonus, this bullshit with medicaid has cut her therapy sessions

If anyone gets to be pissed at them it's me, and I fucking am pissed, they can go fuck themselves, and everyone who votes to cute medicaid can know that I personally dislike them immensely

Unlike my mom though I'm not a literal fucking 12 year old (not even kidding, her problem is she's emotionally still like 12 or 14, she's literally fucking stunted there). Unlike her... I fucking function even when I'm doing bad

But serious, I was awful yesterday, just absolutely one of my low points. Only reason maybe I seem better today is basically the emotional equivalent of adrenaline

I'd be falling apart right now except for the part where I never actually fall apart or have breakdowns

[triptuckers]

bonfire - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Hey I was just wondering if you could make a Percy Jackson x gn reader where the reader had a crush on Percy for a while and was jealous of annabeth only to find out Percy felt the same" Pairing:  percy jackson x gn!reader Summary:  you've got a crush on percy, but it looks as if he only has eyes for annabeth. you try to keep your distance, but it's hard and percy notices you're absent Warnings:  jealousy, angst Word count:  1.5K A/N: happy new year!! sadly I went into the year with my tiktok account getting banned because they think I'm 13?? all I do is post silly little pjo videos but apparently its not okay so now I have to start over :( thanks for your request, enjoy!

you wonder if your life would be different if you were more like annabeth.

you're looking at her right now, as she's talking with her team. you know you can't win capture the flag from her. she's too smart. always analysing, always calculating everything that can go wrong and then preventing it.

percy is also looking at annabeth.

he's on her team, after all.

you're trying to listen as clarisse, your team captain, explains her new plan to your team. but you're only hearing half of what she's saying. you're far too focused on percy as he smiles at annabeth while she's talking to him.

you can tell he likes her. and it's not like you hadn't tried to let it go.

you had tried to push your feelings away, to ignore them, nothing worked. when you saw percy chatting with annabeth, you felt a little jealous.

soon your crush on percy and with it, your jealousy of annabeth, started to grow. so you decided if nothing worked, you'd distance yourself from percy.

it hurt, especially since percy was happy to spend his time with annabeth instead of you. at first, he would still invite you to spend time with him. but after you kept declining his offers, he eventually stopped asking you.

you tried not to show anyone how upset you were. maybe it would get easier with time. it's clear to you percy prefers annabeth over you.

on top of it all, you lose capture the flag yet again. you're forced to sit on the sidelines with your team, listening to clarisse tell you everything that went wrong. in the distance, you can see percy and annabeth celebrating their win with the rest of the team.

you tell yourself it's just a game and that you don't care their team won. maybe if you tell yourself it enough times, you might believe it.

when you're walking back to the cabins to put away your armor and weapons, you hear someone call your name behind you.

you turn around and see percy jogging to catch up with you.

you hate the way your heart still skips a beat when you see his eyes and quick smile.

'good game!' he says, stopping in front of you.

'hi percy.' you say.

'hi.' he says with a smile. gods, he's going to be the death of you one day.

'congrats on winning. again.'

'thanks! annabeth had this amazing plan.'

'athena kids, huh?' you mumble, trying not to show your disappointment at how it only took a couple of seconds for percy to bring up annabeth in the conversation.

'you busy tonight?' he says.

you look up at him. surely he wouldn't?

'not really. why?' you say.

'there's a bonfire tonight. want to come?' says percy.

'yeah, that sounds good.' you say. you could never say no to him.

sitting at the bonfire, you hadn't done that in a while. ever since you decided to try and distance yourself from percy, you missed out on things you knew he would be present at.

'great! it was annabeth's idea to host one, see you tonight!' says percy, waving at you and taking off again, headed towards his own cabin.

you just stand there. of course it was annabeth's plan, of course she'd be there as well.

as you walk to your cabin, you're not sure you can stand watching them together all night after watching them win capture the flag. but you'd told percy you'd come. and you hate to let him down.

so when the sun is setting, you make your way to the bonfire. while you're walking, you can't stop thinking about how cold it is. you should have brought a jacket. but you're afraid that if you go back to your cabin, you won't go to the bonfire anymore. and then percy would be upset.

at the bonfire, there's almost no kids from your team. there are a few of your siblings, but not a lot.

the kids from the opposite team are dancing, laughing and celebrating.

is this really where you want to be tonight?

you spot percy in the distance, talking with a few apollo kids. without meaning to, your eyes also search for annabeth. she's sitting with her siblings. at least they're not together again.

you'd stay for an hour. just to show your face, then you'd go back to your cabin. that's acceptable, right?

you get yourself a drink and sit down near the edge of the party, where most of the kids are just talking with each other and not really doing a lot.

as you think back to capture the flag earlier today, you try to figure out how annabeth's team could always beat yours. you know athena kids are smart, but ares kids also know a lot about battle strategies. maybe you could sit down with clarisse some day and see if you can help her with a new plan.

you're lost in thoughts, when you hear a familiar laugh in the distance. you look over and see annabeth has left her siblings and is now sitting next to percy.

you sigh softly, it was never going to be any different, was it?

for a while, you watch the other kids, listening to their songs. you had to give it to the apollo cabin, they know how to get a party started. when you look back at percy and annabeth, percy is gone.

before you can look around where he is, someone sits down next to you.

'having fun?'

you turn and are met with percy's bright eyes. you put on a smile, hoping it looks sincere.

'yeah. thanks for inviting me.' you say.

percy tilts his head a little and gives you a confusing look.

'you say you're having fun and yet since you got here you've been sitting here with a drink you haven't touched, freezing and shivering.' says percy.

right. you forgot your jacket.

'sorry. I was thinking about capture the flag.' you say.

'ah yes, about our fantastic victory.' says percy, smiling and bumping your shoulder. 'you should come up with a new plan some day. maybe talk to clarisse about it?'

'I will.' you say.

'then again, it is hard to beat annabeth's plans. sometimes I don't even know her entire plan until the game is already over.' says percy.

really? how does he manage to bring up annabeth every single time he's talking to you?

'well, don't let me keep you.' you say. 'thanks for checking in, but you don't have to take pity on me for losing. you can go back to annabeth now.'

percy frowns. 'what are you talking about?' he says.

'well, clearly you like her.' you say.

percy laughs at your words. you feel the color drain from your face. tears start to form in your eyes.

'alright, I'm leaving.' you say, getting up.

percy abruptly stops laughing. 'wait no, please don't go.' he says, pulling you back down.

'sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at that. it's just, yeah, I like annabeth. but not like that, we're just friends. I like you, okay? I thought you knew.' says percy.

your lips part in surprise. did you hear that right?

'you like me?' you say. 'like... you like like me?'

percy smiles. gods he really is beautiful. 'yeah, I like like you, alright.' he says. 'which reminds me, why have you been avoiding me lately?'

you look down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 'I thought if I wouldn't see you, my feelings for you would go away.'

'but they didn't.'

'no, they didn't. my eyes were still finding you in ever room. even tonight, I didn't really want to come. but I couldn't say no to you.'

'is that also why you didn't bring a jacket? so you'd have an excuse to go back soon?'

you look up and shake your head. 'no, I did actually forget my jacket.' you say.

percy takes off his sweater and hands it to you. 'here.' he says. 'wouldn't want you to freeze.'

'thank you.' you say, taking it and putting it on. it's bigger than your own sweaters and smells like him.

'want to get out of here?' says percy. 'we can go to the lake. or my cabin, no one's there. it'll just be the two of us.'

'do you have a heater in your cabin?' you say.

'no.' says percy, getting up and holding out his hand to you. 'but consider me your personal heater from now on. always available for cuddles.'

you smile, taking his hand. 'I like that.' you say.

as you and percy walk off, annabeth is still sitting by the campfire. she's smiling to herself. she knew about percy's crush on you. he'd been asking her all sorts of advice. and it looks like he finally told you.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Escape the Friendzone 2/4 (Word count 5.3 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Massive arms go about her as she's pulled against a lean chest. It's an awkward, tense hug. He smells of open air and coppice, with a whiff of acrid sweat on top as she lays her head somewhere between the bumps of muscle of a warm chest.

Not even the body heat makes him appear more human: his heart is not pounding as fast as she thought it would after making it clear he would score some tonight.

She fears she's dealing with a sociopath. Might even be a psychopath.

"Are you still afraid?"

"I don't know." Her breaths are everything but steady as she inhales the intoxicating scent of a madman.

"Don't be scared. I will only hurt those who wish to hurt you."

His pledge renders her weak; it makes her legs shake. She gets far more than she bargained for when pulling him in to give her a little late-night comfort.

Friends with benefits is a situation bad enough, but this is not okay. The guy's fixation seems boundless, and if she tries to wriggle out of this… relationship and starts seeing someone else, it might end up in König scrubbing the potential future love interest's guts off his shoes.

And something in the idea isn't even wholly appalling.

Good God…

"I don't want you to hurt anyone," she whispers like it isn't his day-to-day job – to hurt and kill people. She is on the verge of collapsing to the floor and stays upright only because he holds her in authoritarian embrace.

"Little angel, it's what I do." He releases her only enough to bow his head and look into her eyes. His stare betrays slight distaste. Those eyes are calm mirrors of how can someone be so naive.

"You come to me if someone is mean to you," he orders in a stern voice that makes her feel faint.

"Alright," she breathes a fluent little lie. He's satisfied with her answer, however, and presses her head back against him with effortless control.

She imagines him knifing someone with a listless stare from sparing a glance her way; she fantasizes him strangling some chauvinistic moron in the darkness after they have been "mean" to her. Quickening breaths betray her sick thoughts to him because he pulls her even closer. She can feel the enormous cock pressing against her body with a promise of violence.

"Angel… I wish you would stop teasing me."

"Yeah?" Her laugh is restrained, and her heart is racing inside her chest – like it's some kind of a good idea to have a heart attack while a murderous psycho turning into a boyfriend is in the same room with her. "Where's the fun in that…?"

"Do you always tease men like this?"

"No," she swallows a mouthful of woodland and musk. "Just you."

"Hm."

"König… Can I see your face?"

The man finally seems to find his reserve again. He detaches from her, and she can hear the audible gulp inside the hood.

"Maybe later."

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other like he usually does when he's a bit nervous. Probably to ease the discomfort from still being forced into those pants with such an astoundingly large, swelling erection, too.

She can't come up with anything that might explain why the man is so uncomfortable with showing his face. From the small glimpse she saw in the showers, everything looked completely normal. There is some other reason why he wants to wear the mask, most likely some mental block, and she would simply have to wait until he's ready and willing to take it off.

"How about a kiss?"

He doesn't shake his head or escape her as she hesitantly steps toward him and raises a hand to the hem of his hood.

"If I just…"

He does nothing as she starts to raise the mask. The look in his eyes is somewhat haunted, though.

She lifts it just enough to reveal a clean-shaven chin and a pair of thin, tightly shut lips. She briefly notices that there's a scar on his jaw before his mouth opens to call her in. They're polar opposites of each other: she feels breathless and limp when their lips meet while he's a statue of rigid power. Even his mouth is tense as she catches his bottom lip between hers and tries to soften that immortal stiffness. Distant notes of hops catch her tongue just before he pulls her back into a crushing hug.

The guy is not the most perfect kisser. He's very avid, though. In fact, his eagerness is what makes it a scary experience, what makes the kiss clumsy. He smashes his lips on hers with force, then opens his mouth so wide she fears he will devour half her face.

The ungloved hands slide down her back and cup her ass. He's gentle, but she still feels like she's levitating, half an inch above the ground from his groping. He moans like they are already having sex, but before she can disconnect herself from the violent kiss, he does it for her.

"I want to fuck you," he pants across her lips, eyes half-lidded and drunk. "Can I fuck you?"

The man has no conception of how to dance these dances. He simply declares his wish to shove his junk inside her and kill those who might do her harm. She feels dizzy in his arms, like dew that will evaporate under too much heat.

"Yeah, yes," she tries to sound sane, although there's nothing sane about this.

So much for being just friends or being nothing at all…

Her heart is beating faster and faster; it wants to rend itself out of her chest. She feels ample sweat between her thighs, then realizes it's only her own wetness that has broken through the cotton of her underwear. The dress is so tight in the middle that she can't simply try and throw it over her head, and the buttons at the front seem to have suddenly become too big to slip through the holes.

He doesn't take any of his clothes off while watching her undress. The instant she opens her whimsical veil of blooms, he moves close and shoves the fabric down her shoulders so that it drops sadly on the floor. Then he flicks a knife out.

Shit… Shit what the fuck–

"No–Don't–!"

The blade is forced with a flat surface under the middle of her bra. He pulls the fabric away, turns the blade - it's a miracle she's not bleeding by the time he cuts through the center front like it's butter. Her breasts fall free, and the destroyed lingerie hangs cheaply on the side before it gets dragged away too. She looks at his work, her exposed tits and the crude, fat knife he swiftly returns to its sheath.

"That was my favorite br–ah…"

The man is terrifying, even when he sinks to his knees. He dives for her breasts, licks the undersides and sucks her nipples like he's famished. Her head rolls back, and she feels fainter still as he gropes her like she's his toy, chews a nipple until she shudders and cries in pain. Then he goes down, down, panting hot breaths on her skin as he goes, the hood grazing and tickling her skin.

His hands shake slightly as he tears down the last piece of covering fabric from between her legs. She can't even step out of the briefs before a blazing tongue is pushed to her clit, all but delicately.

Perhaps he's not a virgin, but he's not a veteran, either – still, it draws a filthy moan out of her.

She has to take support from his head to prevent herself from falling when the tongue simply forces its way between her legs. It curls to meet her folds, slick with her wet. She knows she's practically leaking at this point, and hears how he licks his lips.

"Of course the angel tastes like heaven too," he rasps in her mound, sounding rather… bitter. Almost annoyed.

She thinks it's only the beginning, but he suddenly rises like a Kraken from the sea, like a Godzilla about to destroy an entire city.

"Get on the bed. All fours."

She chokes the whimper that tries to escape her, then turns and crawls onto the bed as if they are running out of time. His urgency is hers now, and she presents herself to him, waiting for the man to thrust in without remorse, but it's his mouth she feels first.

"Uh–Oh my god…"

He licks her with a flat tongue, torturously slow while she's on display. They're long, profound sweeps, as if he wants to sample her rather than give her pleasure. Although he does give her an immense amount of it.

She falls on her elbows, face down on the bed, exposing more of herself to him in the process. Her pussy has been neglected for so long that the feel of his hot tongue on her is absolutely breathtaking, thigh-shaking. She pushes herself back a little, lets him taste his own medicine for once.

And of course it only makes him more unhinged.

"You're wet like a…" he laughs a short, dry laugh straight into her folds, and she finally whimpers at the sound. "You want it so bad?"

"Yes…?"

It's a sad little confession but more than enough for him. He freezes behind her, and something in the way the air shifts tells her he has risen and is now standing high above her as she's in this crudely vulnerable position.

"I've made you wet this whole time?"

She snivels, opens her eyes, closes them…

"Yes," she sobs in the bed, nearly topples, but he grabs her ass and keeps her in place.

"Ach du lieber Himmel…"

She pants and cries in the sheets, but the sobering silence lasts only for so long.

The sound of a belt being opened shoots her skin full of goosebumps. Only a few seconds later, the fat tip of his cock is swept across her folds: it probes for a second, then slides in.

"A-ah–"

"Scheiße… So tight…"

He hisses and goes all the way in – the journey is long and torturous as he stretches her wide. The thickness only grows at the base, his balls are already tight as they arrive to press against her.

And mercy is not at the top of his list as he realizes she has denied her need and therefore, his. He starts to sail inside her, back and forth, in and out, like it's his job, too. It's total torture. She might just pass out before this is over.

"You little tease…" He seizes control of her hips while using her as his own personal fleshlight. The noise of wet, slick fucking is deafening. The pace is upped soon, and he has to use strength to hold her in place while ramming her from standing while she tries to hold on for her dear life and hold onto the sheets.

"Not so fast, König," she whimpers into her pillow, but he won't listen. The pace is frantic, and his thrusts are deep; he fucks her with despair, with anguish-driven, starved thrusts born from greed.

Nothing has ever felt so good, nothing.

"Just friends, eh?"

She has a hard time deciphering whether he is happy or mad. His voice is pitchy, and she knows, she just knows that he sounds equally as unglued on his missions. Perhaps that's why people rarely talk to him.

"Don't–don't be angry…"

"No? Say that you want me," he commands somewhere behind her, desperation coating the air with pungent sweat and musky arousal. "Say it–say it–"

"I want you," she finally cries, and it feels like an absolution. An amnesty. Remission of sin.

There's panting and frantic sound of slaps of flesh against flesh behind her. The air all around is pure electricity. It makes her quiver and throb and squeeze: him, the sheets, anything and everything.

"I will bring you flowers every morning and fuck you every night. Ja?"

His length is the only thing she can focus on; all else dissolves into a hazy mist. The cock glides in her like he's oiling a gun part, and he could ask her to kill someone and she would only say–

"Yes, yes."

He slides in and out with less and less control, moans and grunts with every thrust now. She's already past the point of no return, even though the orgasm keeps hovering right beyond her reach. She only needs a few more minutes. Or maybe just one...

"König… Not...so–fast…"

He answers something in German, an annoyed string of words she has no clue what they mean. He's probably just swearing profoundly.

"Get...what you deserve..."

That's the only thing she can flesh out from the English that follows. He finally finds some mercy with a choked groan and tries to slow down a little. It's even worse when he does that. He pulls almost completely out, then sinks back in, agonizingly lazy, and that does it: the full length of his giant cock slipping inside her without effort makes her walls clench.

"Oh God…" Her back is arching, her toes are curling, a tight cry disappears somewhere in the pillow, and he won't stop with the – "Oh–fuck–!"

"Yeah," he cheers her on as she screams, cries in the sheets while his cock swims in her. His hands dig into her hips, and she barely has brains left to think it might leave bruises. The orgasm comes in waves, shakes, and he won't let go even when she's only a heap of throbbing, soaking flesh and rapture.

And it's not the end; quite the contrary. He continues to fuck her with abandon: balls slap against her with every jab; they must be covered in her juice at this point, making the sound of sloppy thrusts utterly obscene. She's able to stay in a face-down, ass-up position only because he's holding her there for his cock.

The grunts turn into a wide, thick groan as he approaches the edge as well. The pace slows down almost to a halt before he comes.

"Jetzt…kommt–" he groans through gritted teeth, voice all taut while he grinds through his release. It's a multitude of deep, oddly paced thrusts, a sad attempt to get everything he can, and she's still like a wet gulf sucking him in.

The last throes are sluggish, the madness starts to pass, and she feels like every bone has left her body. There is nothing solid left when the man slowly relents and settles somewhere deep inside her. She can hear how he pants with his mouth open, and it sounds painful, wet, almost drooly. Then he swallows with a breathless gulp, slips out, and lets her go.

She immediately falls forward - topples, crashes, crawls on the bed, tries to rearrange what's left.

Just friends...

Yep.

He crashes somewhere beside her, spent and out of breath. The front of his shirt is covered in sweat; the air is filled with the stale scent of musk and saline sweat and pure, mad sex. She can barely catch a glimpse of the slick, glistening length of him. It feels like a miracle that this thing has been inside her. It’s not that it’s monstrously thick: it’s simply long, curving a little to the side, lean and aggressive even when growing soft.

"You play with fire, Engel. Why did you make me wait so long?"

The masked killer beside her is panting but satisfied for now, and turns his head to look at her. She has to muster all her courage to look back.

"I'm…a bit shy."

"You're perfect," he declares while watching her in her sex daze and ruin. So, at least he's not angry. He finally looks… normal, even with that absurd hood still on, with that intoxicated, admiring stare in his eyes. The ice in his blues has turned into melting snow.

"I noticed you the minute I arrived here."

She can't prevent a hand from reaching out at that, from splaying fingers over his chest.

"I noticed you too," she whispers back before moving closer to snuggle him. His heart is finally thumping in his chest, right under her cheek – from the late exercise or their closeness, she can't tell. A heavy arm goes around her, pressing her further into the nook of his armpit.

"You remind me of one of my knives," he says while holding her close.

Oh good God…

"You are a butterfly knife girl."

"Oh?"

"Ja. Small and cute and a lot of fun. And I can't get enough of you."

So much for getting rid of the man after getting some d. God, what was wrong with her? Any other woman would have put up some boundaries, perhaps gotten a restraining order by now.

"Is it… a good knife?" Her voice comes out as an annoying squeal, and he pulls her closer, ever closer.

"I mainly use it for playing."

She wets her lips in an attempt to calm herself, to comfort herself. She’s just another plaything for a murderer whose hunger seems endless, even if he’s more civil now. Still, she fears this man is only after sex and violence. Her little dresses and petite lingerie won't stand a chance against such brutality.

"What knife are you…?"

"Classic Glock field knife. Tall and ugly."

Behind the thin veil of indifference, there's pride. It borders on arrogance. She catches a dash of bitterness, too: field knives don't pair well with butterflies, perhaps.

"König, you're not ugly," she breaks their odd cuddle to look at him. "This sounds like a trustworthy knife to me."

He looks back at her with an even warmer tinge to the glacier of his eyes.

"It is. You cannot hope for a more loyal blade."

Her gaze drops somewhere in the darkness of his shirt. He's pledging himself for the second time to her, and it causes another storm inside her head. There's warmth on her cheeks, too.

"You are cute when you blush," he observes with pleased tranquility.

Perhaps... Perhaps he doesn't want to hurt things he finds cute.

Perhaps he will take care of them, like he takes care of his knives.

It still takes some getting used to that he allows his hood to be lifted just enough to push his tongue inside her mouth or pussy but taking it off to show his face is too much. She is lying there with him in an odd post-coital dream, thoroughly naked while he's still fully dressed. But she doesn't feel cold, not when pressed against his blazing form like this.

"Did you nick my underwear?" She asks out of the blue, and the hand stroking her waist stops in the middle of an idle caress.

"I might have," he admits without a single ounce of remorse in his voice.

"König… That's not cool," she says, knowing he can hear the lack of scolding in her voice.

"You want them back?"

"I… Gosh. Yes, that would be nice."

What a pervert.

"Or... Nevermind. Keep them," she sighs, trying to brush off the fact that the underwear in question wasn't even clean. "Do you steal women's underwear often?"

"No. Just yours."

A laugh meant to convey her shock is far too laced with joy to make it clear that she finds his deeds preposterous. She simply fails at every turn in trying to express that she's a decent woman. He knows it now, probably saw it long ago; that she's the perfect cheval glass to his perversions.

The hand on her hips moves to caress her thigh, and the drowsy stare observes her with growing mischief.

"Ready to go again?"

"Whuh–Again…?"

He takes her hand and moves it right over his cock. It's lean and demanding, and pulses under her palm.

Tall and ugly, she thinks while her walls dare to throb with hunger.

"You make me hard," he says, almost as a whisper, "all the time."

Jesus… There was definitely no rulebook when it came to this guy.

She gets to watch from the bed how he gives her a show as the man finally decides it's time to take his clothes off. The shirt is the first one to go: it flies somewhere on the floor while he holds on to his hood. The sculpted muscle looks even bigger up close, and the plates are covered with thin hair. It runs thicker below the navel, and his thighs are pure power: they surround the sleek length of his cock like trunks of strength when he finally gets himself out of those pants.

The v-shape of his upper body is something she will never get over. Broad shoulders shrink and curve into narrow hips which in turn swell into powerful thighs, and while perhaps this guy wouldn't win the gold medal at a fitness competition – judged by the way he's lean and athletic but not low fat ripped – he certainly is the most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. He's a demigod with his herculean strength, a titan who's too big for the world of mortals. A tormented Samson who will never be tamed with treachery or tricks.

The bed sags as he crawls back to her like the gentlest predator. Her legs open wide to receive him – a classic missionary feels like the most intimate choice after the faceless pounding she received earlier. He gathers her legs as he proceeds: forces them up, up, almost next to her arms until he's hovering over her exposed pussy.

She should've known that some boring missionary wouldn't satisfy this man at all.

Her eyes drop to her legs and what's between them: she's in no position to do much of anything, but as the tip of his cock – smooth, pristine velvet – slides across her wet folds once more, she rather helplessly tries to drive her hips up to meet him.

It's like she's drunk or in a dream. The scene is wild and filthy: she's plump and spread open, ready for the taking, thighs almost in her ears as he draws his hips back and finds her opening.

"Please be gentle," she begs with a whisper. He halts for a while to lock gazes with her rabbit stare.

"You are pretty when you beg, little one. But I would never hurt you."

She swallows, and her lips part – his gaze instantly falls on her mouth, then raises back to her eyes, gentle and painstakingly ardent. He's close, so terribly close – and not just physically. Her thighs quiver with anticipation as the thick velvet slides in.

Holy fuck–

She savors the spread, and he's gentle, like he promised. The groan that erupts from inside the hood above makes her walls ache. He's so merciful this time, and she wishes to lift the black veil that still keeps them apart, to see his face as he takes her, to see that scar on his jaw and how his mouth hangs open with hunger, just like hers…

His cock comes out all wet – she can hear it – before plunging right back in, and it makes her mewl.

"Oh God…" Her eyes shut tight from the sensation of being so filled. She's even more starved than she thought. It's scary, far scarier than the mass murderer above and inside her.

"You like that?"

He's breathing heavy, and she knows he's looking at her, the distorting face of pleasure, the way she's biting her lip. Tears try to force themselves out from the passionate, featherbrained proximity, from being so tightly knitted together, like a bunch of happy, overstimulated nerves.

"Look at me," he orders, and she opens her eyes like they're under his command and not hers.

"You like it like this?"

She nods with tears in her eyes, and he won't stop looking at her like she's his most prized possession.

"Gut. I will make you scream again."

The man's dreamy stare follows every twitch of a lip, every bat of an eyelash. She looks down briefly to escape that love – the sight of the long thickness disappearing in her while she is so crudely open for him makes her feel dizzy, even when she's lying down.

Some pillow princess…

"Sehr schön," he comments while watching her face which must look like that of a dumb, anesthetized doll. His cock has that effect, and now that he's hovering over her, staring into her soul while filling her, it makes everything even more painful because it's sweet. She's under lazy waves, and decent men seem the most boring thing on earth right now.

"You like my knives?"

"Ah–what…?"

"You stared when I played with my knife."

She knows he has caught her staring more than once and bites her lip again not to blurt out how she had stared when he had played with... other things as well.

"Mh, yeah… It was beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

The sudden waves of intimacy leave her fragile and weak. His stare is nothing short of a caress. She is open and helpless for him to pound to his heart's content, but he's gentle, bordering on loving...

"I can teach you how to play with them."

Jesus Christ, this dude is just crazy.

"Uh-huh," she agrees to it with her mouth hanging open from the overload of sensation. The lewd sound of his cum pushing out of her with every thrust is an obscene background music for this – or any – conversation.

"I have a collection."

Why the hell would he be talking about his knife collection in the middle of–

"I own at least fifty knives. I can show you all of them if you come to my room."

His gaze is at least as piercing as his cock, and she realizes how serious this is: knives are his life. He finds them beautiful too, he collects them and cares for them. They're a profession, but they're also the most important thing in his world.

Knives are his essence.

And he had likened her to a butterfly knife...

"S-sure."

The sound from where they are joined rises to a sluggish crescendo: drowsy, filthy claps of flesh on soaked flesh. He makes her sick and well at the same time: he drags her to hell and raises her to heaven. He's the remedy and the curse. He plays with her like he plays with his knives: ravenous, entranced, obsessed.

She tries to concentrate on too many things at once: that intoxicating voice, the memory of him playing with death, the cock plunging inside her over and over again, making warmth pool below. She imagines him killing people with his collection, picking his tool for the day. He's not the only lunatic here because even the very thought makes her tight around him.

"You are close?"

"König… Just–" she whispers on the cusp of a deeper, soul-rending orgasm.

"You like it when I talk about knives?"

She breathes laboriously and tries to hang onto the last bits of her sanity, but he knows her, knows her already. He weighs down on her until her thighs come to rest right next to her breasts. He's plowing her in a crude angle, indecent and deep. It's vulgar, and she loves it; loves the way he stares at her, all helpless under him.

"Please, I'm gonna–"

"I can show you my guns too."

Ohmygod–

"I'm gonn–ah–!"

She shatters, her walls clench; her pussy sucks him like he's hard candy.

“Sieh dir das an… You were made for me.”

"Nh– Please…"

Her head tosses on the pillow as if in a dream. She's fathomless, and going to pass out, the cock inside her makes her eyes roll back in her head until she sees white, the color of saints.

"Shy girl… Beg for it."

The voice that answers his command is not that of a shy girl; it's not hers at all. She hears it from underwater, and her reality consists solely of the man filling her, spreading her, transforming her from an angel into something deliciously wicked.

Please, just–

It's not her voice, and yet it does sound everything like her. It begs, mewls a plea after the other in a string of helpless little whimpers.

Don't stop, please pleaseplease…

"Besser als jedes Messer…" he rasps, more darkly now. "You drive me crazy, Engel."

A chant arises in her head: she has sinned and there's no turning back. He feels far better than any promise of heaven. She could never have guessed that being cast out would feel so good.

His release comes with a tight rip, he goes taut like in that shower, only ten times more desperate. The hiss under the hood turns into a pained, strained roar of a grunt. The first time was foreplay, a quick one: this is true release. She almost hopes she would faint as the whole body of the Austrian titan goes hard as a rock. She couldn't be more spent and used, and still, her pussy answers his godly essence by clenching around him, pulling him in like he's the best man there is.

The man of her dreams, the man from her worst nightmares...

His eyes are liquid, the waterline twitches. She sees behind the walls, a millisecond's worth of fragility before his head drops, and the muscles are released from the violent trance. Broad shoulders cage her in like she's suddenly deep inside a mountain pass. Spent and dead and gone, there's no hurry any longer: he is buried deep inside and throbs whatever leftovers he has to give her.

She's filled to the brim, crushed under his weight, banished: and it's only delicious, the feeling of her body disappearing somewhere in the depths of the bed he has plowed her into. She waits dutifully as the man gathers himself, even gets brave enough to touch him. The masked face is buried somewhere in her neck, and his stomach ripples with a few shivers as her hand runs down his spine.

"I want to do this every day," he declares softly while panting through the thick fabric of his self-made shield. She feels pure horror and thrill in her chest.

To do this every day… She will eventually break, like a toy that has been used too much. She's not made of steel like those butterfly knives used mainly for playing.

"König, this is crazy… We're crazy," she tries to put into words the unholy mess raging inside her. He snorts before releasing her from the absurd position. The weight of him leaves her empty as he pulls out, then drags his way beside her to gather her back into his arms.

"Don't be ashamed, little one," he coos through the mask. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Two rounds of intense sex have liberated him, the manic terror has turned into a strange compassion. The look in his eyes is magnanimous and tender, almost droopy. She feels weightless and timid, an angel once more.

"We belong together, you and I," he states with conviction that sends sweet dread inside her heart. "Don't worry. You will never be lonely again."

Her fate is sealed, and she fears a big, fat knife will cut her heartstrings too if she tries to escape his protection. Her jaw trembles at the prospect of him returning to her every day to fuck her bare after an adrenaline high on the field. She sees a future of tears and sweat and cum, a beast lulled into sleep amidst a withering sea of flowers and torn lace.

She tries to find the right words, hopes he will be swift and merciful in his execution.

König, please…

It's not the hood, it's–

"Everyone fears me," he sighs beside her. "I'm glad you don't."

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (20/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.

Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael

Word Count: 3.7k

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A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.

It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut. 

But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."

You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.

"Please, Y/N."

"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.

He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."

"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.

"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."

You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."

"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."

"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"

Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."

You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."

His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"

By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.

"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible. 

"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."

"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."

Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to." 

You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?" 

"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."

You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"

His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"

If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing. 

Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"

Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?

Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."

"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"

"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.

Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"

Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."

Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out." 

"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.

Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"

"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"

"Clearly and distinctly."

"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut. 

But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.

"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."

"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase. 

"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."

Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."

You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"

Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."

Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?

Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find. 

Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?

Who is Charles Leclerc?

"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy. 

You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night. 

But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?

He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street. 

"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"

"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."

"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."

Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."

You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."

"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."

There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable. 

"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."

"We're going to my other place."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"

Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."

"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"

He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."

"We? What do you mean 'we'?"

"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."

Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."

After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?

As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"

His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in. 

Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-

"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.

"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.

"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself. 

After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.

The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far. 

And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before. 

His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.

He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him. 

He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities. 

And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?

Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?

Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?

Who is Charles Leclerc?

Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock. 

Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.

You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you. 

Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him. 

You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him. 

"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck. 

"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."

next part

[cyanhydrangea]

Loneliness [Bayverse TMNT x Reader]

[Friendship Fic]

Summary: You feel lonely for the lack of friends you have in school, but the presence of the turtle boys makes you forget about it

You sigh for what it seems like a hundred time.

It seems like scrolling through social medias was the worst decision you made for the past hour this night. All you ever found was the posts that shows your classmates and friends happily hanging out without you.

You wondered why they never asked you to hang out with them anymore, maybe because they think you were boring. They never actually get to be your close friend, but still, having lots of best friends and gets to brag about it to the world seems fun.

The realization that you never actually have a close friend at school makes you feel lonely.

Turning off your phone, you decided to play on sad songs and cry yourself to sleep.

That is, until you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Angelcakes?"

You jolted awake from the sudden touch, but relaxed when you see who the culprit was.

"Mikey, you scared me!"

"Sorry, sorry"

Behind mikey, you can see there are also the rest of his brothers, Leo, Raph, and Donnie.

"Sorry [name], we knocked on your window but you didn't respond", the leader in blue explained their sudden presence in your room.

"Right, it's okay", you responded.

"[Name], were you...crying?", The turtles noticed but Donnie is the one who asked.

You didn't realized there were some tears left on your cheeks and you wiped them and said "uh...no?"

"You were, anyone we need to beat up?", Raph ready to throw fist on anyone that hurted you.

"No!" You cried.

"Then, why were you crying, angelcakes?", Mikey asked

A brief silence fell in the room as you didn't answer mikey's question immediately.

"I...don't want to talk about it, guys, sorry"

The four brothers looking at each other, concerned of your well-being.

"Don't worry guys, it's nothing serious, I promise"

The boys weren't convinced, but at least you promised them, and you never break your promises.

"Alright, but we're all ears if you need someone to listen to your problems, okay?" Leo assured you.

"Thank you"

"Well, we bring something that hopefully can cheer you up", Donnie handed you something.

"No way!" You can't believe they just brought you the Blu-ray of the movie you've been dying to watch.

"What are we waiting for!? Let's watch this right now!" You excitedly leave your room and go straight to your kitchen to fetch snacks.

Raph sets the movie on your TV and you guys watch it together

It was in the middle of the movie when you realized you should be grateful the turtle boys being your best friends despite not having one in school.

You might not be able to hang out with the turtle boys out in the sun, not be able to post pictures of you with them on social medias, not be able to brag about them to the world, but with them you don't feel lonely anymore.

#CyanHydrangea

Date Written: 09/01/2024

[thevoidstaredback]

Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.

He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.

Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!

Off topic.

Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.

The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?

More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.

***

Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.

That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.

"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.

"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."

"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."

"Funny, coming from you."

"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."

Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."

"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"

Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"

"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."

"Sorry."

"You better be."

"Hey!"

"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"

A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"

"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."

"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."

"You know you can't dodge them all forever."

"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."

A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"

"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."

"Then refuse to answer."

Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."

Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."

"What about Batman and his brood?"

"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."

"I can try,"

"But you'll fail."

Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."

Part 5 Part 7

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Ending Things (Long Drabble) Author's Note: Oh this one hurt to write. And I'm not gonna lie - it's going to keep getting worse from here Warnings: MDNI, Angst

After that one night you over did it at the bar, you woke up, hungover and worried that you had done something stupid in front of the 141. But it seemed like things were fine as everything went on as usual the next few weeks. If anything you assumed something happened between them as you sensed some weird tension among them. But you weren't worried, they're the 141. They'll figure it out.

And it seems like they did after that random meeting in Price's office. But as they returned to normal, your relationship with everyone shifted.

It's like these last few months of camaraderie just disappeared. No more "good mornings", "how are you", "any plans tonight" - nothing of the sort. Instead, it's just commands, orders, and the occasional question about intel and reports, but overall nothing too comfortable. Confused by the sudden switch up, you decide to reach out first and figure out what happened.

If you had done something, then the least they can do is be mature about it and tell you. Because that's what teams do.

So with some recently dropped intel, you knock on Soap's door. After hearing him say enter, you walk in and take note of how the sergeant faltered, surprised to see you in his office.

"Hey Johnny-boy, I was wondering if you could help me go through some files we just got?" This was y'all's thing. He's never turned you down before so in your mind, this was foolproof. Or at least, you thought it was.

"If you can't handle some measly reports, you should probably re-evaluate your career choices. I can't always hold your hand when things get hard. I got my own work to do, you know?," he says, eyes still on his paperwork. Annoyance clear in his voice.

Your mouth runs dry. You try to save face and explain that you just value his insight on things. Your face heats up when he looks at you with the most unimpressed eyes. You apologize for wasting his time and quickly leave his office, feeling embarrassed by the interaction.

What you don't see is the way the Scotsman winced when he sees his door close, knowing that you left feeling like a fool.

Things with Soap did not go well, but you try not to dwell too much on his words. You knew that he had his days so if anything, you probably just picked a bad one.

So that's why you approach Kyle next as he always kept his cool when things were rough. If you anyone would listen to you, it would be Kyle. So the next day, you head to his office, lunch in hand, excited to catch up with the sergeant.

Seeing his door open, you stop at the entrance and knock on the door frame. He glances up and asks if you needed anything.

"No, just wanted to check up on you. Maybe see if you had any ideas you wanted to work through before the meeting," you chirp, eyes beaming with joy. Kyle usually workshopped his ideas with you before suggesting them to the team. But it's been awhile. He's probably been busy with reports and all that.

"With you? Not really."

"Oh, I just thought, you know since you usually--"

"Yeah, I know, but honestly what's the point? You've never been out in the field so what would you know?" He shrugs with that last phrase.

While he had somewhat of a point, that didn't mean you were completely useless. The last few months should speak on that. You try to push back, but he doesn't bother to look at you. Realizing he wasn't going to listen, you leave.

But, Gaz does listen. He hears how your steps get further and further away until he hears the distinct sound of your office door closing.

Okay, things weren't looking great. But if there was one constant in your life, it was Ghost. Despite his prickly exterior, you knew he was a softie at heart.

So you look for him at the base's gym, instead of his office, knowing that he was probably getting some reps in during his break. And just like you predicted, you found Ghost at the bench press with some rookies that liked to test your boundaries. But with Ghost nearby, you knew you'd be safe. Now with a gift in hand, you stand in front of the Lieutenant and wait for him to finish.

After a few minutes, he sits up and questions your presence, adding that he didn't think pencil pushers like yourself went to the gym. Ouch, that was uncalled for, but this was part of his shtick... right?

"Good to see you too, Ghost" you quip. He doesn't react. You falter a bit, but you quickly regained your composure. This was Ghost who you were talking to, he wouldn't hurt you. "Remember the other day when you were complaining about the calluses on your hands? Well, I got you some new gloves to see if they could help," you proudly announce as you drop the bag in his lap.

He carefully opens the bag and takes out the gloves. This had to do it. He's probably going to say thank you, maybe even ask you how you been. And that's your way in.

Or it would have been if the sound of fabric tearing didn't fill the air. Right before your eyes, Ghost was tearing a glove right through the middle. He stands up and towers over you, throwing your gift to the ground.

"Honestly if you spent even half of this energy in your actual work, maybe you'd be worth keeping," he spits. You hear the nearby rookies snicker. After staring you down for a few more seconds, he lays back down and starts another set. You don't bother saying anything as the lump in your throat threatens to give you away. You walk out of the gym, shame filling your core.

But with tears blurring your eyes, you fail to notice Ghost quickly grabbing the gloves off the floor.

And now with three failed attempts in figuring out what's wrong, Price calls you into his office for a check-in. During these check-ins, he'd ask you if everything was going well with the team. You really wanted to avoid inconveniencing him with such a trivial matter, but the other three left you with no choice.

You walk into his office, determined for answers. Or at least, were until he asked you to close the door behind him, an action only reserved for when the conversation was serious. After shutting the door, you take a seat, nervous as his usually friendly eyes aren't there to greet you.

With a cold gaze, Price looks you over and begins. "Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush here. Your work on the team has been decent at best." Decent? "It's clear that you're more interested in harassing my men than working alongside them." Harassing? "So if you're actually serious about your future here, I'd recommend you get your priorities straight. Do I make myself clear?"

You sat there dumbfounded. How did you get here? Just a few weeks ago, you were confident in your place on the team, and now you're at risk of losing everything you worked for. How? What caused this sudden-- oh.

The night at the bar. The night you can't remember. You probably crossed a line and despite their best efforts to ignore it, they just couldn't. Whatever you did, it must have been bad, because why else would they switch up on you like this? You obviously messed up.

That's why at the next team meeting, you ask Price if you could say a couple of words. Realizing the second chance they were gifting you, you decide to apologize for your inadequacies, for ever making them uncomfortable, and for overall failing them as a teammate when they never once failed you. With that, you promise to do better from here on out.

You leave that meeting determined to prove yourself once again to the team. While Johnny, Kyle, Ghost, and Price leave feeling horrible for making you feel like the monster here.

But that's what best for the team... right?

Word Count: 1371

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[zegrasdrysdale]

Jamie request! this is kinda lengthy but Jamie thinks something is happening between his girlfriend and Z bc a Trevor keeps popping up in her phone but it’s an ex that Jamie has heard about who’s blackmailing her. She doesn’t wanna tell Jamie bc she’s very independent but also doesn’t wanna get anyone else involved. This causes tension between her and Jamie so Jamie texts Z trying to confront him before realizing it’s the ex and his mind goes to cheating but she finally explains the situation to him and maybe a little spice? and fluff at the end

[ guess who ] j. drysdale

pairing : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : after seeing someone named ‘Trevor’ pop up on his girlfriend’s phone, Jamie thinks she’s cheating on him with his best friend, but then she comes clean to him and Jamie finds out that not everything is what it seems

warning(s) : nsfw ! implied sex, some sexual content, making out, angsty (very angsty), mentions of cheating and abuse, blackmail, mentions of injury, POV changes, one use of Y/N

author’s note : anon i am so sorry this took so long to finish. hope you enjoy <33

༺═──────────────═༻

She and Jamie are both left panting with a layer of sweat covering their bodies as they lay beside one another. They're completely spent and she's not sure if she can feel her legs at the moment. She pushes her hair away from her face before she looks at Jamie.

"You are incredible, pretty girl," Jamie pants with a smile on his face. "God, if you could ride me everyday, I could die a happy man."

"Jamie, I don't think you understand how tiring that is," she laughs as she rolls over and presses soft kisses to his already swollen lips. "The only reason I keep riding you is because you're hurt and I don't want you to exert or hurt yourself again."

He deeply kisses her back, wanting to start another round. She hums and shakes her head. Jamie pulls back with a groan. "Fine," he sighs. "I'll let you go pee and clean yourself up. I want my mouth on you as soon as you get back though."

With a laugh, she rolls out of bed. She pulls on one of Jamie's shirts before slipping into the bathroom to relieve herself so she doesn't end up catching a UTI. She fixes her ponytail knowing that it's going to get ruined again and checks her chest for marks, which are new and bruising already.

After she's done, she makes her way back into the bedroom. "You know," she says as she walks into the room. "You need to let up on the marking before it looks like I got bit by a vampire or something." Her playful tone ends when she sees Jamie scrolling on her phone. "Baby?"

Jamie looks up at her. "Why is Trevor sending you pictures?" he asks.

"What pictures?" she questions in reply.

He turns her phone around so she can see what he's talking about. The pictures in question are pictures of her, pictures of Trevor -- but it isn't Zegras who is sending those pictures. Not that anyone would know who it is in those pictures because they're all faceless.

Her ex-boyfriend, also named Trevor, is mad that she's with someone infinitely better than he is, and now he's trying to manipulate and blackmail her back into a relationship with him. Jamie doesn't know about him, which is why he thinks it's Z sending her naked pictures of them.

"Jamie, baby-" she starts to say before she's interrupted.

"Don't 'Jamie baby' me right now," Jamie snaps. "I can't believe you'd do this to me. To us. Trevor is my best friend. You could've picked literally anyone else but you chose my best friend to cheat on me with."

She immediately begins to shake her head. "Jamie, it's not what you think," she panics as he gets out of bed and gets dressed. "Please. I need to tell you something and-"

"Tell me when you end things with my best friend because I really don't want to hear your excuses right now," he tells her as he dresses. "I'm going to Cam's. Don't talk to me until you're ready to tell me why you cheated on me with Trevor."

Not knowing what else to do, she watches Jamie storm out the door. The front door slams shut and she flinches like the door hit her.

This is what she gets for not telling Jamie about her ex sooner.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[ Jamie's POV ]

He has half a mind to drive up to Bedford to have a word or two with Z. How could her girlfriend sleep with Trevor knowing he's best friends with Jamie? He can't believe that the two most important people in his life betrayed him like this.

It's nearly midnight when Jamie knocks on Yorkie's apartment door. A second or two later, the door swings open. A surprise Cam asks, "What are you doing here? It's midnight, Jimmy."

"I, um," Jamie hesitates, not knowing if he wants to tell anyone what is going on. "I just needed to get out of the apartment. We had a fight, I guess you can say."

Cam moves aside to let Jamie into the apartment. He pushes past and sits on the couch in the living room. Cam joins him a second later.

All he can see is the pictures on his girlfriend's phone. Pictures of her. Pictures of Trevor. He shudders at the memory and resists every urge to throw up on the carpeted floor.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cam asks. "The fight, I mean. It was bad enough that you had to leave."

Jamie pushes his hair out of his face and sits back. "She was in the bathroom," he begins. "Then her phone began buzzing and buzzing so I looked at it to see who was texting her so late at night. I opened her phone to Trevor sending pictures to her of the two of them. In bed together."

"Holy shit," Cam breathes out. "No way. Zegras hooked up with your girl?"

"I don't know when and I don't know if they are still hooking up but yeah, apparently," he says. He rubs his face and groans into his hands. "I can't believe the two of them would hook up behind my back. Like, I get that I'm not the easiest person to be with considering I've needed near constant taking care of over the past year and a half but talk to me instead of hooking up with my best friend."

"That's not your fault, Jamie."

"Apparently it is because why else would she go out and fuck Trevor behind my back?" he questions.

He pulls out his phone and pulls his his messages with Z. "What are you doing?" Cam asks.

"Texting Z because he needs to know that I know."

to: zzzegras - 12:02 am what the fuck dude ? my girlfriend ?

from: zzzegras - 12:03 am ????????

to: zzzegras - 12:06 am i saw the pictures you sent her. i'm not stupid. why her ? don't you have your own girlfriend ? why mine ?

from: zzzegras - 12:08 am i have know idea what you're talking abt jamie. what pictures did i send her ? aside from gifts for you for when you get better

to: zzzegras - 12:09 am what ??

A picture comes through seconds later of a screenshot. It's an exchange between his girlfriend and Trevor from the day before. There are pictures of buildings and tickets in the screenshot with a message from Trevor saying "he'd love that".

The final text in the chain is from (Y/N). It's from fifteen minutes ago and it says: "you were right. i should've told him abt my ex bc he just walked out the door thinking you sent me naked pictures when it was him. god, why can't trev just leave. me. alone ! he's going to ruin everything between me and jamie when i don't want jamie to worry abt this rn".

from: zzzegras - 12:12 am it wasn't me dude. you need to talk to her abt it. there's more going on that you should know, and it concerns her and she should be the one to tell you

Confused, Jamie looks up from his phone. "I don't think it was Z that sent her those pictures," he tells Cam. "I think she's in some trouble though."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[ reader's POV ]

She sits on the mattress with her knees brought up against her chest while she stares at her phone. More texts from Trevor come through while she wants for something from Jamie so she can explain what's going on and that she isn't cheating on him with Z.

That's the last thing she ever wants Jamie to think because she loves Jamie and everything that comes with him. His baggage, his injuries, his laugh, his smile. She won't care when he retires from the NHL. She loves all of Jamie, hockey player or not.

The door opens while she's deep in thought and the sound pulls her out of her head. Jamie stands in the doorway. She pouts and tears begin to prick her eyes at the sight of Jamie in the doorway.

"Tell me who Trevor is," Jamie says. "Why is he sending you naked pictures of the two of you in bed?"

"He's my ex," she admits with a shaky voice. "He was manipulative and abusive. When I found the courage to leave, he told me that I'd never find anyone better than him. I did, and now he's mad about it."

Jamie's face falls at her confession. "I didn't know any of that," he quietly says. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want him to have anything against you because you have a career to lose," she cries. "I didn't have anything to lose. If those pictures of me come out then oh well, they'll probably get posted to some porn sites, but if he was able to get something of you and those leaked then I'd be devastated. I was scared that he'd ruin your entire career, our lives together."

He walks toward her at the same time her phone buzzes. She groans and hides her face. The bed moves as Jamie sits on the mattress. She looks up at him and watches him grab her phone. He scrolls for a second and says, "I could've helped you. Seriously. You didn't have to go through his alone."

She wipes away her own tears. "I did," she tells him. "Well, technically, I had Z because I texted him once asking him why most guys named Trevor were assholes and had to tell him but that was an accident. I didn't think he'd ask questions. I should've told you but I didn't want you involved."

The phone buzzes again. She sighs. Jamie taps a few more times before he holds the device up to his ear. Her eyes widen when she hears her ex's voice on the phone. Jamie winks at her before he says, "I don't know who you are but you have the wrong number. I suggest you stop sending those pictures though. They could do a lot of damage in the wrong hands."

Then he hangs up the phone. He smiles at her. "I don't- you aren't mad?" she asks.

"Oh, I am," Jamie replies. "It'll take a little bit for me to get over that you told Z instead of me but I won't let anyone ruin you or our lives together. No matter how mad I am. Not to mention, I love you."

She frowns and crawls up to Jamie. "I'm sorry," she says as she presses kisses to his shoulder. "I really am sorry. I should've told you but I was scared."

Her lips trail from his shoulder to his neck. Jamie looks over at her. "You can kiss me all you want," he tells her. "I'm still mad at you."

"We'll see how long that lasts."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

requests are open again !! if you wanna send one in, check out the guidelines !

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[therainscene]

I've described myself in the past as "overly-queerbaited" as a way of explaining why it took me so long to come around to Byler endgame as a legitimate possibility... but that's kind of a misleading way of putting it.

Truth is, I've always been too much of a cynical fuck to fall for queerbait... or any other story that promises positive queer rep.

[Sherlock couldn't touch me; I saw this cringe homophobia coming from a mile away. Fans mistaking straight anxiety jokes for meaningful gay subtext was clearly doomed to end in mockery. Nobody deserved to be treated like that... but god, it was easy to predict.]

I think it's a symptom of having grown up under Section 28 -- feeling like I'm being unreasonable for wanting to see queerness normalized is such an ingrained habit that even today I instinctively recoil like a vampire touching sunlight whenever an optimistic queer story falls unrequested into my lap.

But I'm hardly alone in feeling this way -- many queer Millennial and Gen-X fans of Stranger Things are against the idea of Byler because it would ruin the catharsis of watching the gay boy growing up in the same era as we did slowly succumb to the same despair that we did.

[For those who haven't played the VR game: Vecna is speaking in this screenshot.]

There's genuine comfort to be found in painful stories -- this type of catharsis is practically the cornerstone of horror as a genre -- so I can't really fault myself or anyone else for wanting it, despite the obnoxious oversaturation of disappointing queer endings in media.

This is the nostalgia show, after all -- and like it or not, for many middle-aged queers in the target audience, nostalgia is shot through with the pain of homophobia and loneliness.

But do you know who else is a hurt queer(-coded) adult who resents happy endings? This cynical fuck:

Henry personifies despair and loneliness and the dark urge to take our pain out on others -- and when Will is in the picture, I would argue that he also represents internalized homophobia.

Will might represent who we were -- but Henry represents who we've let ourselves turn into.

And I don't think many of us want to admit to that, because that would involve questioning why we have so much in common with the literal villain of the show; why we're still so consumed with self-pity after 20+ years that we're obsessing over the fate of some kid.

I'm not suggesting that wanting a less-than-fairytale ending for a fictional gay boy is equivalent to being a child killer lol. It's perfectly valid to want to see your pain acknowledged, and stories which appeal to that desire deserve to exist.

But between Henry's connection to Will and the cycle of abuse themes of the show, it's clear that this particular story simply isn't about wallowing in the bleakness of growing up gay in the 80s, but about self-actualizing in spite of it all.

So I just can't bring myself to want a "relatable" ending for Will.

As much as I struggle to enjoy positive queer rep, I don't want to be so cynical. I'd thrown up so many walls to protect myself as a teenager that I forgot how desperately I wanted to see just one of those painful queer stories end on the same uplifting note that straight stories were always entitled to: with true love overcoming the odds, saving the day, and living happily ever after.

[But I'm A Cheerleader, a surprisingly fun movie about conversion therapy, is proof that stories like this did exist when I was a teen... but finding them in the pre- and early-internet days amidst so much censorship was a tall order.]

What makes Stranger Things different from most queer stories -- and what allowed it to pierce through my defenses and stab me in the gut -- is that it perfectly mimics those bleak, acceptable-to-the-censors stories from my youth -- only this time, the secret uplifting gay plot twist is real.

Not for the sake of shock value or of grabbing some empty woke points at the last second, but because the plan all along was to slap the audience in the face for believing homophobic lies about the existence of queer happiness.

That's some gourmet catharsis, if you ask me.

Just the possibility that my inner child might finally be vindicated has allowed me to truly let myself want the things I want for the first time in 20 years -- and that's the first step towards finally crawling back out into the sunlight.

Happy Pride Month, everyone. 🌈

[echobx]

Anything - bsf!JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: y/n has heavy cramps and proposes that JJ help her out with relieving them

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut, p in v (unprotected), tw blood mention, oral (fem receiving), simp!JJ, bsf!JJ, light praise kink, foreplay, verbal aftercare

author's note: I'm on my period and horny. that's it. that's literally the only reason why I wrote this.

“Fuck,” you hiss and turn on the couch, holding onto your stomach, clawing at the pain the cramps are causing you. You hate your period, but usually it isn't too bad, that was before your boyfriend broke up with you. Now you are alone at the Château, horny and in excruciating pain.  “Are you okay?” a familiar voice comes to your ears, and you snap your eyes open. JJ is leaning half over you, his eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking at his cheek.  “Period,” you press out the word, and he nods, leaning back up.  “Should I get you something to eat? Chocolate? Or a heating pad?” he asks, and it's too sweet how he wants to help you feel better in all the ways he knows. And when your eyes rake over him, taking in the toned arms and the cut-off shirt, you can feel the heat rise inside you. You knew how hot your best friend is the moment he presented himself to you one summer after you were gone for a few weeks on vacation, and he had stayed home working some job. But you know his body like no other, not all of him, obviously, but you know enough. And right now you're completely controlled by your hormones and the possible consequences are something you don't even take note of.  “There's something else you can help me with. You can say no,” you tease, and he cocks an eyebrow.  “You look like you just had the worst and best idea of your life, y/n.” “Just might,” you smile and sit up, ignoring the new wave of cramps the movement conjured.  “You gonna tell me?” JJ crosses his arms in front of his chest, and you can't help but gawk at how good he looks, flexing for you.  “I haven't had sex in three weeks, that's why it hurts so much,” you explain and his face lights up for just a second.  “And how am I to be of help with that?” He's cocky, and you hate how much it turns you on.  “You know me better than anyone else, J. You know I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't really need it,” you say and he tilts his head. “Desperately, I might add. Because this hurts and I'm so fucking horny. But I'd understand it if you said no.”  “What if it changes our dynamic?” JJ ponders and you laugh.  “The dynamic where they all already think we're fuckin’ because you can't stop fake flirting with me?”  “All right,” JJ nods and holds his hand out for you to take. This went easier than you expected. 

You place a dozen towels all over the bed, trying to help with the mess you're about to make. And when you're done JJ is right behind you, his chest pressing against your back, fingertips grazing over your arms, and you let out a sigh while falling back into him just so slightly.  “Are you sure you want this?” he rasps in your ear, and you bite your lip before nodding.  “Tell me what I'm allowed to do to you, princess,” JJ whispers, and you feel like you're about to fold right then and there. This is new. He had never been like this with you. Seductive and sexy and only focused on you and no one else.  “Anything,” you breathe, and he chuckles.  “What if I can't stop once we start this?” “Then don't stop,” you say while turning around and pulling him into a kiss. He tastes like mint with a faint hint of weed, as if he had tried to cover up by brushing his teeth. But you like it, the fact that he put an effort into it, into making you feel good.  JJ kisses you as if you are air, and he's suffocating. It's demanding and soft at the same time, and you really don't know how he does it. Entangling your tongues and moaning into you. Pressing his crotch to your body, his hard dick against your stomach. Your hands are tangled in his tousled hair, while his are angling your neck and holding your waist, as if it was always meant to be.  “Wow,” you hush after he pulled away, unable to look up into his eyes, but you know deep inside that he felt it too. The flutter in your stomach that you hadn't felt in so long, not even for your ex.  “You wanna get ready here or?” JJ smiles down at you, twirling a strand of her in his long fingers, and you nod slowly, stepping to the side and vanishing in the bathroom. 

“This the craziest idea you've ever had, y/n,” you whisper to yourself while looking into the mirror. Not only do you not look sexy at all, but you're also not mentally stable enough to make a decision like that. The hold your hormones have over your body is scary, at least a little bit.  After pulling out the tampon, you leave your underwear and shorts lying on the edge of the tub, only walking back to him in the shirt you were wearing all day long.  JJ is sitting on the edge of the bed, boxer briefs on, head hanging low as he fidgets with his rings.  “I'm ready,” you whisper, and you feel like you did the first time you met him. 4th grade, with your tear streaked face and a broken toy in your hands, but he had simply offered you a hug, and you had been best friends ever since.  “I couldn't find any condoms, so if you wanna stop right here, I'm totally okay with that,” JJ told you, and you had to think about it for a second.  “I trust you,” you nod and sit down by his side, taking his hand in yours and smiling softly. “It's just two best friends getting impossibly closer to each other than ever before. It doesn't have to change anything,” you remind him, and he nods. “Besides, I'm conscious enough to take my own precautions,” you giggle, and he turns to you with furrowed brows.  “What that mean?”  “I'm not planning on making you my baby-daddy. Not tonight at least,” you try your best to look serious, but the grin breaks through and JJ smiles, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. Maybe you like kissing him too much, because as soon as his lips touch yours, your stomach is flodded with fuzzy feelings and your head goes blank in dizziness.  “I should fuck you now,” he whispers against your lips, but he doesn't pull away yet. It's as if he's trying to figure something out, and then he kisses you again, and you move back, pulling him with you. It's clumsy and the two of you can't help but laugh as you crawl over the bed, one kiss chasing the next one until you're completely under him. Your legs are propped up around his hips, his hands next to your head as he looks down on you. 

“You can still say no,” he reminds you, and you bite your lip.  “No. But you can still say no, too.”  “When's the last time I said no to you, princess,” JJ mumbles, and before you can give him a profound answer, he kisses you another time. Your back arches up, and he unclasps your bra under your shirt.  “You have too much on,” he growls into your ear, biting your earlobe and making you mewl. You go to sit up and JJ leans back with you, helping you pull the shirt over your head and throwing it onto the floor, the bra following shortly after. And when you wrap your arms around your tits, he chuckles. “You can ask me to fuck your brains out, but you don't want me to look at your pretty tits?”  “That's different,” you try to argue, but he kisses you again, taking your hands into his and placing them in his neck. And as soon as your fingers scratch over his scalp, he starts fondling your tits.  “You have the best fucking tits in the world, y/n. Trust me,” JJ smiles against your lips and kisses you another time. It's as if he has more fun edging you on than actually getting to the point, which was a simple fuck, not a full on make out session. And yet, you don't complain. No one has ever made you feel so beautiful and sexy with a few simple words and kisses, like JJ does.  He kisses himself down your body, sucking on your nipples, biting the inside of your thighs before burying his face in your cunt and you gasp.  “Fuck, JJ!” you cry out as he sucks on your clit and brings you so close to an orgasm that you see stars.  “Anything is a lot of things, baby,” JJ rasps before going back to eating you out. Plunging his long digits in your hot cunt and licking and sucking on your clit until you scream his name in pure ecstasy. 

“You look so gorgeous when you scream my name, baby,” JJ smirks down at you, his face is smeared with your blood, and you think it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. Aside from it, the new nickname causes your stomach to flip and turn, making it impossible to think clearly. “You got something right there,” you giggle and point at his face.  “You like it,” he rasps, but picks up one of the towels to wipe himself clean, but his skin remains tainted in a light pink.  “Just might,” you whisper and pull him down to kiss you while he tries his best to rid himself of his boxers. The faint metallic taste of your blood on his tongue is turning you on even more.  It's like your hand moves on autopilot when it snakes down between the two of you, grasping his hard dick and pumping him a few times before you push him to your entrance. JJ pulls away to look at you, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, eyes staring right into your soul as he pushes inside you. Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you try to get adjusted to the stretch of him.  “Oh fuck, y/n,” JJ moans, his forehead falling to yours. It feels too good to be true. It feels like he was made for you. Thick and long and perfect as he pulls out halfway and slams back into you.  “Feels so good, J,” you moan and claw at his back.  “So tight, baby,” he grunts, and his hands grope at your tits as he rolls his hips into yours at a deliciously slow pace. “Best pussy in the world.”  The praises cloud your mind just as much as the slow and deep thrusts he's giving you. And when he looks at you, it's as if you're the only two people on the planet and the world has stopped turning as soon as he found his home inside you.  “You're so good to me,” JJ whispers and kisses you again, his hands running down to your legs, hooking them around his waist. “My pretty girl,” he moans and fastens his pace. Ramming into you and making the headboard slap against the wall with it. He's rough and you love it. You love to see his primal desire to claim you as his, and you can't see any issues with it. Maybe you had ruined your friendship, but maybe this would be so much better than any friendship or relationship you have ever had before.  “Fuck, baby, tell me you're close,” JJ panted, the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead.  “So close,” you moan, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten impossibly as his hand slides down, and he starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit.  His blue eyes cross with yours one last time as he whispers, “be a good girl and cum for me.” The words go straight to your pussy, clamping down hard around him and screaming his name as you come undone for him.  “Fuck, you're so beautiful,” JJ moans, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, his dick twitching inside you, and then he fills you up. Stilling deep inside you as he groans and shoots his cum into your heat, fucking it deeper into you with a few sloppy thrusts before he pulls out and falls down by your side. 

“We should've done that way earlier,” you pant and smile up at the ceiling.  “Uh-huh,” JJ breathes, and you turn your head to look at him.  “You called me baby,” you whisper.  “You think I'm fake-flirting with you,” he chuckles and turns his head too.  “You are.” “Never,” JJ hushes and kisses you again, but it feels different. Maybe that's what they called post-nut clarity because the way he looks at you feels different, the way he kisses you feels different, the way he says your name feels different.  “J?” you whisper, his head buried in your neck, sucking on your skin and licking over the mark he left on you before picking up his head to smile at you.  “Anything wrong?”  “You know why he broke up with me?” you whisper, and JJ shakes his head. “He said he could no longer compete with you, because you're in love with me, and I would leave him as soon as I found out. He's wrong, right?”  “Do you want him to be wrong?” JJ asked, and for once you can't read his face at all.  “I don't know.”  “He left you because he's scared of a hypothetical, that's fucking stupid. I would never leave you,” he smiles and kisses you again. Pulling away for just a second to smile at you and whisper, “love you too much to let you go.” And the kiss that follows is tender and truly loving, and you don't know what's happened, but you know he's not lying.  “Are you sure?” you whisper, needing the confirmation that he isn't just playing with you.  “I wouldn't mind if you lied to me about it. I'd give everything to be your baby-daddy, princess. I've known that since forever,” JJ admits, and your lips form a silent “oh.” “How are your cramps?” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows, after everything you have completely forgotten how you got yourself into this situation.  “Better. Way better,” you nod and peck his lips as a small thank you.  “Good. I'm not gonna pressure you with labels and shit, you know. But I also don't go around fucking just anybody, especially not raw. Just think about it, love,” JJ whispers in your ear before getting up and leaving you lying there, a complete fucked out mess, but at least a happy mess.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimocarz @m2m2m2 @mochimms

[stayteezdreams]

Scenarios: Whump {Ateez x Gn!Reader}

Scenarios: Whump; how they would take care of you and react to you taking care of them.

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong x Reader; Jeong Yunho x Reader; Choi San x Reader & Song Mingi x Reader (All Gn!Readers)

Requested By Two Different Anons (during Milestone Event)

Warnings: Mentions of illness/sickness, injuries, general whump stuff.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for waiting patiently for me to get back into finishing the requests I got for the milestone event. <3 If anyone wants the other 4 members for this let me know!

Words: ~1.2k

Kim Hongjoong:

When Hongjoong is sick or hurt, he doesn't tell you how bad it is so you don't worry.

But you find out anyways (usually after interrogating Seonghwa)

Hongjoong likes to take care of you, and doesn't want you to worry too much over him.

But you don't listen to him.

When he hurt his knee during dance practice, though it wasn't serious, you still offered to help him.

You got him things around the dorm.

Reminded him to take his pain killers, massaged him, ran him a hot bath, etc.

Though he felt bad about you taking the time to help him, he really did adore the way you took care of him.

He always returns the favor in kind, when you get sick or hurt.

Though you tend to take care of him with gentle softness, he is a bit more forceful (in a loving way).

"Don't you dare try and get that yourself."

"If I come back and you aren't still in bed you wont get any food."

"Take your medicine or I am leaving."

It's never really mean, and always has a tinge of humor to it, and you know it's cause he hates that you are hurt/sick.

The worst thing he can imagine is you being hurt, so he tries his best to make you better faster, or to distract you so you aren't suffering.

He is also very very sweet when you are sick or hurt.

Cuddles just for you, gentle massages or fingers through your hair.

Bubble baths, kisses, etc. Anything he knows would made you feel better.

Jeong Yunho:

Yunho adores how you hover over him when he is sick or hurt.

He watches you with an adoring smile as you carefully read the directions and warnings of his medication and barely listens as you explain it to him.

He is so distracted by how cute he thinks you are that he forgets he is sick or hurt in the first place.

TOTALLY uses it against you.

"What do you mean you're leaving? " I just need to go get some things from the store." "What am I supposed to do then?" "I'll only be twenty minutes you'll be fine."

Hits you with the 🥺🥺🥺 and you can't help but give in.

Takes full advantage of having you around, cuddles that he refuses to end, hot baths he insists you have to share with him.

Everything you do for him when he is hurt/sick will be returned in kind.

You get a cold?

He buys every medicine he can find, twenty types of tea, cute stuffed animals, soups, etc..

He is checking your temperature, brining you cold rags to wipe your head. And the whole time he has a pout on his face.

Because he can't stand you being upset or sick.

Wishes he could trade places with you.

Doesn't care of he gets sick from cuddling with you.

"Then we will be sick together."

If you are hurt, ooohh booyyyy, pout x100.

Doesn't let you do anything.

You could hurt your wrist and he won't let you walk around.

"It could get worse!" "My wrist?" "Yes!"

You both hate when the other is suffering, but love the domesticity of taking care of one another.

Choi San:

Similar to Yunho, San loves how much you care for him when he is sick or injured.

Acts like a baby if you aren't giving him enough attention.

Steals kisses anytime you are close.

"You're gonna get me sick!""

"Then it will be my turn to take care of you."

If you are gone for too long he will text you with dramatic ass texts.

"I think I'm dying." "Why?" "My chest hurts." "WHAT?" "Because you aren't here." "Boy I swear to GOD."

Sweet smile the whole time you are taking care of him, even if he is miserable he feels like he is in heaven.

Changes your contact name to Cute Nurse. Does not change it back once he get's better.

When he finds out he did end up getting you sick, he actually feels really bad. But does as he says, and takes care of you this time.

Changes his name in your phone to Doctor Sexy, does not want you to change it back.

If either of you are hurt from an injury, taking care of each other becomes routine.

San will drag out his injury, pretending it's worse than it is just so you stay.

And as an excuse to get more shared baths out of you.

You of course see right through him.

However, if you are injured, he is so afraid to hurt you he barely comes near you.

"San, it's fine I promise." "But what if I hurt you?" "Then be gentle. I promise cuddling with me will not make my concussion worse."

Super delicate and caring with you when you are hurt.

Will fight the other's if they try to mess with you.

Makes you promise not to get hurt again.

Song Mingi:

Mingi says he doesn't want you wasting your time looking after him.

But you know he secretly loves you being around more often when he is sick/hurt.

You can tell by the soft smile on his face as he is watching you fuss after him.

Showers you with compliments because he adores you.

"You're so cute." "You'd make a great nurse/doctor." "But I don't want you taking care of anyone else." "Maybe I should by you a uniform"

Tries not to abuse the power he as over you when he is hurt/sick, but does use it as an excuse to make you stay with him.

"What if I wake up in the middle of the night and need help?" "Then I guess I'll have to stay." "I guess you will."

You are really good at consoling him when he is injured and misses out on some band activities.

You distract him with games, and keep him occupied. And he loves you so much for it.

Such a baby when it comes to you being hurt or sick.

Pouting constantly, wants to wrap you up and keep you safe from the world. Because how DARE you get hurt.

Many, many, gentle kisses to make you (and himself) feel better.

When you are sick he is not sure what to do or how to take care of you, but bless him he is trying his best.

"Here's your medicine." "Why is it so hot?" "I thought you were supposed to warm it up?" "Its cough medicine not tea."

But when you accidentally roll your ankle when on a jog, he knows exactly how to take care of you.

Is a bit over the top about it though.

And by that I mean he will carry you literally everywhere.

Need to go get water? He wont bring it to you, but he will carry you bridal style to the fridge so you can get it yourself.

He thinks it funny. You think it's ridiculous, but in a very cute way.

xx End xx

🌼 Taglist Form 🌼

Taglists:

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,  @shymexican,

@stillwjk-channie-lixie, @luckypaintertyphoon <wont tag

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @hongjoongsprincess, @tunaasan, @thedistractedwriter, @dear-dreamie,

@thunderous-wolf, @briqnne, @hyukssunflower, @dinossaurz, @skz1-4-3,

@staytiny2000, @demonlineslut, @vnessalau,  @dancinglikebutterflywings, @tunafishyfishylike

Mingi Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

[cursedkeyboard]

PAY ATTENTION ● Older brother Suguru & Younger sibling!Reader

what happens when suguru's cute younger sibling, who'd usually talk his ear off and cling to him, suddenly starts to... do their own thing?

Pairings: Platonic Suguru Geto x Younger sibling!Reader

As we know, Suguru is a rather mature teenager

He carries this air of elegance, always putting on a polite smile and spilling pleasantries past his lips like sweetened lies

But we also know that Suguru can be childish around the right people

So it's not a surprise to anyone close to him that when his younger sibling, you, stops following around like a lost puppy, Suguru immediately starts to sulk

You're only three years younger than Suguru, fourteen to his seventeen

You two always had a close relationship, closer than most siblings tend to have

Suguru loves spending time with you, to him, you're easily the funniest kid he knows

It's hard for him to ever calm down completely since he's constantly stressed with the sorcerer world

But every day when he goes home and you're in the living room or in your room, it's like he can finally breathe

Because before Satoru, you were Suguru's only friend

His little mini-me, partner in crime, best friend

You two clicked and moved like one, so in tune with each other he always marveled at how most siblings tend to hate each other

Of course, the two of you do fight sometimes

Over who gets to take a shower first, who ate the leftovers, who gets to watch what on TV

"Did you use my shampoo?"

"The one you keep hiding from me? Yeah."

"You little– That's expensive."

"That's why I used it, Suguru."

You two are siblings after all, what kind of siblings never fight?

But he never felt the kind of animosity and distrust so many brothers and sisters feel around each other, the kind that made them roll their eyes whenever they even got close to their siblings

To Suguru, you're his little sunshine, someone he'll protect until the day he keels over and dies

Not that he'll ever tell you that

(number one rule of siblingship: Never be too touchy-feely)

So imagine his surprise when the little punk who usually follows his every step, always under his elbow, asking him to hang out or help with homework, stays glued to the phone even when he sits in the same room

Like.... what?

You barely greet him, a half hearted "Hey, you're home." falling from your lips without even looking at him, and he's offended and hurt at the same time

You're fourteen, sure

He knows you'd start pulling away from him now that you have more than a couple of friends, more subjects to study, and... uh..

Puberty

But he thought it'd go away after a bit, that you'd go back to being his cute little sibling once you realized he is so much cooler than the kids your age

He'd walk past your open door multiple times a day after coming home, trying to see if you were going to invite him to hang out

He'd make tea with a mouthwatering fragrance, put on your favorite show, talk to your parents about going to a very trendy and fun place you'd surely want to go with

Damn, at some point he'd probably even talk to Satoru on the phone, loudly, because he knows you're curious about the pretty white haired teen who always teases you whenever he sees you around Suguru's home

But even then, nothing

Nothing at all

Suguru feels like he's watching the baby he helped learn how to walk turn into an adult and leave him behind

And as a big brother, he's upset, a little petty, and worst of all;

Sulky

Of course, Satoru and Shoko definitely notice, because although Suguru is quiet, he's not staying in a corner looking out of the window while listening to sad music and reminiscing quiet

And of course, they both make fun of him when he explains the situation

"And here I thought Gojo was the unreasonable one."

"Hahaha! I– I can't believe! You're sulking because the little brat isn't talking to you?!"

"Shut up, Satoru, and don't call my baby sibling a brat."

"Hah! You're such a loser, Suguru!"

Needless to say, when Suguru comes home and you're still glued to your phone in the living room, he's not in the greatest of moods

You barely look up when he drops his bag on the table

"Welcome back, Susu."

And because no one ever made a law saying Suguru can't act like Satoru sometimes, the teen flops on the couch and hugs a pillow, not answering you

That, you notice

Your brother always talks to you when he comes back home, even when he is all banged up from whatever they do at school

The sight that greets you is... something

Embarrassing, endearing, definitely pathetic for your big brother

Suguru is pouting, looking down at the pillow his strangling to his chest, his knees pulled up to make himself smaller

Not that it works, he's built like a bean pole

His shoulders brush yours, because even though he's mad, he still misses his cute– annoying little sibling

"Suguru?"

...

"Mr. Suguruuuu....?"

...

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He turns his face away, his hair slapping your face, and pushes more of his body against yours

"What the– Dude, you're squashing me! Suguru, what's wrong with you?!"

Suguru still says nothing, silently letting more and more of his weight to lower on top of you until you're smushed against the couch

Once you're a baby sibling pancake, Suguru finally opens his mouth

"So now you're paying attention to me, huh?"

... Huh?

"Huh?"

Suguru huffs, his hair all over your face, body much bigger and heavier than yours not allowing you to move an inch even though you struggle, and squeezes his pillow

"No, it's fine. Go ahead, ignore your big brother all you want. It's not like I helped mom and dad raise you."

"... Are you kiddi–"

"Yeah, keep your eyes glued to your phone, don't need to talk to me or don't hang out with me– actually, don't even look at me at all, since I'm sure you'd much rather look at your phone."

"You're being such a chil–"

"No, no, by all means! It's not like I miss you or anything."

You sighed with some effort, because Suguru is still on top of you and he's not a lightweight, and thump your head against the soft couch

Sure, you know you've been a little distant from your big brother

But, hey, you're fourteen now!

You have your friends and stuff you wanna do without your brother around

And, really, Suguru is a hypocrite

Ever since he started high school he wouldn't stop talking about the white haired cutie

Which you understood, if only visually because Satoru would often call you pint-sized Suguru

But he also spends time with other people!

"You do know I have other friends."

"So I don't matter to you anymore, is that it?"

"No, I'm just not gonna hang out with you all the time!"

"Well, you haven't been hanging out with me at all."

"Urgh!"

"Yeah, urgh."

God, you really wish more people knew about how pouty and clingy your big bro can get

Maybe they'd stop thinking he was this mature and chill guy

You groan against the couch and your brother presses his back down, pushing the air out of your lungs

"You're so annoying!"

"You used to say you wanted to be just like me when you grew up."

This guy...

You sigh, relaxing and surrendering

You're supposed to meet up your friends this weekend to watch a movie, but two of them can't make it so everyone gave up on it

Might as well use the opportunity

"Fine– I'm sorry, okay? Do– Do you wanna watch a movie this weekend? The one that just came out?"

Suguru stops for a second, letting some of his weight off of you and allowing you to breathe properly

He mutters the name of the movie and you confirm it

"Hmm..."

You can hear the smile on his face and you scoff, the exact same smile pulling at your lips too

"If you promise you'll pay more attention to your neglected older brother, then yeah."

Oh, you so want to take it back

But then again, now that he brought it up, you also miss him

If only a little

Like, a smidge

"Fine, I won't ignore you anymore. Happy?"

Suguru took a moment to answer before turning around to press a loud and gross older brother kiss on the back of your head

Now you have to take a shower

"Very happy."

He sounds smug and satisfied, finally a little more relaxed

He really did miss you so much

You're his baby, okay? Growing up too fast will only give him heartaches

And now Suguru can tell Satoru that you don't hate him

Everyone wins

...

"Hey, can you get off now?"

"Hmmm, no, I'm comfortable."

"Well, I'm not! Get off, Suguru!"

"Don't feel like it."

"Suguru!"

[kentobb]

The Bet (Part Three)

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Foul Language, Physical Fight, Mention of blood, a little suggestive perhaps.

Author’s note: Thank you for yall support 🩷 English is not my first language :’) and you guys have been super nice

Part 01, Part 02, Part 04

Sukuna's heart raced. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual but feeling the tension in the air.

"Gojo told us about the bet," Choso said, his voice laced with disappointment. "Why, Sukuna? Why would you do that?"

Sukuna's stomach dropped. He didn't want to have this conversation, not now. "What bet? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," Yuuji snapped, stepping closer. "The bet you made with Gojo about her."

Sukuna's jaw tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to us! At least be a man and confess.”Choso's voice was louder now, echoing through the apartment. "Gojo told us everything. How could you?"

Sukuna felt a surge of anger and defensiveness. "That piece of shit…”

"This isn't about Gojo!" Yuuji shouted. "It's about you and what you did."

Sukuna turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Look, is just a stupid bet…it doesn’t mean anything.”

"Doesn’t mean anything?" Choso repeated, incredulous. "You are playing with someone's feelings and it doesn’t mean anything?”

"It was just supposed to be a silly bet," Sukuna muttered, more to himself than to them. "I- I haven’t… nothing has happened.”

"Is that why you’re still speaking to her? Hanging with her?” Yuuji's voice was full of disbelief. "I can’t believe it, Sukuna. After all you have been through and you decide to do this shit?”

Sukuna whirled around, his eyes flashing. "It isn’t like that!”

"Then what was it like?" Choso demanded. "Explain it to us, because right now, you just look like a jerk. You’re doing what Mei Mei did to you.”

Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His own brother throwing those words against him. Yes, he had fallen in love with Mei Mei a long time ago, yes, she played with his feelings and yes, she ended up cheating on him, and yes she still was using him for his body after they were broken up, yes, yes and YES.

Sukuna's shoulders slumped. He was caught, cornered, and there was no easy way out. "I didn't… I didn’t think I would fall for her.”

"You didn’t think? Why doesn’t that surprised me?" Yuuji echoed, his voice softer now, tinged with hurt. "Sukuna, this is wrong."

"I know," Sukuna said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's wrong."

There was a long silence, the air thick with tension.

"So why did you do it?" Choso asked finally, his voice softer but still firm. "Why did you make the bet?"

Sukuna took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It was just supposed to be fun, it was just random. I didn't think... I didn't think it would turn into this."

"And now?" Yuuji pressed. "What do you think now?"

Sukuna hesitated, the truth weighing heavily on his chest. "Now... now it's different."

"Different how?" Choso asked, his eyes narrowing.

Sukuna looked at his brothers, the guilt and shame evident on his face. "I- I like her, okay? I didn't mean for it to happen, but I do. I like her."

Yuuji and Choso stared at him, shocked.

"You... you like her?" Yuuji repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes…" Sukuna admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "I didn't plan for it, but I do. And now I don't know what to do, okay?”

"Y- You need to tell her," Yuuji said, his voice softer but still firm. "She deserves to know the truth."

Sukuna spun around, his eyes desperate. "If I tell her, she'll never speak to me again. And I really like her. I can't lose her."

Yuuji and Choso exchanged a glance, their anger giving way to understanding. "So you really care about her?" Choso asked.

"Yes," Sukuna said, his voice breaking. "I have never felt like this for anyone…” He sighed, “We… we kissed today…” He looked away, “It just felt… right.”

Yuuji eyes widened as he looked at Choso. Yuuji sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Sukuna…”

"Yuuji.” Sukuna said firmly. "I mean it. I care about her. It's not just some bet anymore.”

Yuuji sighed as he looked at Choso who looks defeated, “We won't say anything. But you can't screw this up, Sukuna.” He said as he gave him a small smile, You have to be honest with her in everything else…you owe her that much."

Sukuna trudged back to his room after the intense confrontation with Yuuji and Choso. His heart felt heavy with the weight of their words, and the guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Closing the door behind him, he collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to process everything.

His phone buzzed on his pants, snapping him out of his thoughts. He picked it up and saw a message from you.

Bookworm :): "Goodnight, Sukuna. Thanks for today. It was really fun :)"

He couldn't help but smile at the screen. The memory of your kiss came rushing back, the feel of your soft lips, the faint taste of them. It was a simple, sweet moment that had stirred something deep inside him. Despite everything, you had managed to make him feel genuinely happy.

Lying back on his bed, he stared at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day. Walking through the museum together, the lighthearted conversations, the way you had looked at him with those doe eyes... And that kiss. He couldn't shake the image from his mind, the way your cheeks had flushed, the way you had leaned into him.

He wanted more. He wanted to see you smile, hear you laugh, and taste those lips again.

Sukuna typed out a response, his fingers hesitating over the keys for a moment before he pressed send.

Sukuna: "Goodnight. I had a great time too. Let's do it again."

He put the phone down and took a deep breath.

The next morning, Sukuna stormed into the locker room, his mind still reeling from the confrontation with his brothers. As he shoved his gear into his locker, he spotted Gojo across the room, casually tossing his things into his own locker. The sight of him ignited a fire in Sukuna's chest, and without a second thought, he crossed the room and swung his fist.

Gojo barely had time to react before Sukuna's punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The locker room fell silent as the other players turned to watch, shock and confusion etched on their faces.

"What the fuck, dickhead?" Gojo yelled, wiping the blood from his nose.

"Why did you tell my brothers about the bet?" Sukuna growled, advancing on him.

Gojo raised his hands defensively, but there was a smirk playing on his lips. "It was an accident! I had too much to drink."

"Accident, my ass!" Sukuna lunged at him again, but this time, their teammates stepped in to hold him back.

"Come on, Sukuna, calm down!" one of the players shouted, struggling to keep a grip on him.

Gojo, still rubbing his nose, looked at Sukuna with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "What's your problem, man? Guilty conscience?"

Sukuna's eyes narrowed. "You don't get it. You have no idea what you've done."

Gojo's expression hardened. "Oh, I get it. You're feeling guilty because you actually like her. You’re such a hypocrite.”

Sukuna tried to break free from his teammates' grip, but they held him firm. "Fucking shut up, Gojo!"

Gojo's smirk returned, more malicious this time. “You know, the bet was to fuck her and prove everyone what we already know… that you’re a man whore and that she… eventually…” Gojo said breathlessly as he looks at Geto who was pleading him with his eyes to shut the fuck up, “Will be one of your fuck toys.”

That was the final straw. Sukuna broke free and launched himself at Gojo, landing another punch that sent him crashing into the lockers. The room erupted into chaos as the other players tried to separate them, shouting and struggling to keep the two apart.

"You don't talk about her like that!" Sukuna shouted, his voice raw with anger.

Gojo pushed himself up, his face flushed with rage. "Why? Because you've fallen for her? You're pathetic, Sukuna!"

The two continued to grapple, trading punches and insults until the coach burst into the room, his face a mask of fury. "What the hell is going on here?"

The players finally managed to pull Sukuna and Gojo apart, both of them panting and bloodied. The coach's eyes blazed as he looked between them. "You two, with me. Now."

They were marched to the college administration office, the coach trailing behind them, seething with anger. Inside, the dean looked up from his desk, frowning as they entered.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"They were fighting in the locker room," the coach explained, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage. "These are my two best players, and they're at each other's throats."

The dean sighed, rubbing his temples. "You two are lucky I'm just giving you a warning. Another incident like this, and you'll be off the team. Do you understand?"

Sukuna and Gojo nodded, both too exhausted and bruised to argue. As they left the office, the tension between them was palpable. They walked in silence, their friendship hanging by a thread.

Back in the locker room, the other players watched them warily. Sukuna didn't meet Gojo's eyes as he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. The pain in his knuckles was nothing compared to the turmoil in his heart.

As he walked out of the locker room, he couldn't shake the feeling that things would never be the same between them. And deep down, he wondered if he deserved it.

Sukuna walked into class, the morning light highlighting the fresh bruises on his face. He tried to keep his posture relaxed, as if the fight hadn’t taken a toll on him. His eyes scanned the room until they found you, seated in your usual spot. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw him, your concern evident.

“Sukuna, what happened?” You asked, your voice filled with worry as he took the seat next to you.

“It’s nothing,” he said with a forced smile, attempting to brush off your concern. “Just a misunderstanding.”

Before you could probe further, the door opened again, and Gojo walked in, sporting similar bruises. The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment as the students took in the sight of both their bruised classmates. The tension between Sukuna and Gojo was palpable, and it didn’t take a genius to realize they had fought.

Your gaze flicked between the two, confusion and worry etched on your face. “Did you two…?” You began, but Sukuna cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned with.”

You glanced over at Gojo, who was staring directly at you, his expression unreadable. Gojo had never paid you much attention before, but now his gaze seemed to hold something deeper, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. The intensity of his stare made you uncomfortable, and you turned back to Sukuna, who was glaring at Gojo.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

“I’m fine,” Sukuna reassured you, though his eyes never left Gojo. “It was just a stupid fight.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely convinced. There was something about the way Gojo was looking at you that made you feel uneasy, like there was a secret you weren’t privy to. The classroom buzzed with murmurs and whispers, but you couldn’t focus on any of it. All you could think about was the tension between Sukuna and Gojo, and what could have possibly caused it.

As the class began, you noticed Gojo stealing glances at you and Sukuna. Sukuna, for his part, seemed intent on pretending everything was fine, but you could see the strain in his eyes. The bruises on his face were a stark reminder of whatever had transpired between him and Gojo.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, you gathered your things quickly. Sukuna noticed and immediately moved to help you, ruffling your hair playfully. He picked up your bag without a second thought, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Sukuna," you said softly, smiling up at him.

"No problem," he replied, his voice light. As you both walked out of the classroom together, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your classmates. Sukuna, the school’s notorious popular heartbreaker, was carrying your bag and being surprisingly sweet.

Gojo, seeing the whole scene, rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

You both made your way to the library, the path familiar and comforting. You looked up at him, concern in your eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t really tell me what happened.”

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head. “It was just a stupid fight. A boy thing. Nothing to worry about.”

You wanted to press further, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. For god sakes, you haven’t even spoken about the kiss. “Okay, if you say so,” you said softly.

You arrived at the library and found a cozy, secluded corner in the reading section where no one else was around. Both of you sat down on the floor, Sukuna in front of you, leaning against the shelves, as you pulled out your books. You tried to focus on your reading, but you couldn’t help but steal glances at Sukuna. The bruises on his face were a stark reminder of the fight he had mentioned, and your mind kept drifting back to the kiss you both shared.

Sukuna noticed your glances and decided to break the tension with some playful teasing. “So,” he began, a smirk playing on his lips, “what did you do this weekend?”

You looked at him, confused for a moment, then caught on to his game. “Oh, I went to the museum,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“With anyone special?” he asked, his tone light and teasing.

“Actually, yes,” you replied, a small smile forming on your lips. “I went with a… guy.”

Sukuna laughed, a genuine, deep laugh that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh really? Was he handsome?”

You giggled, “He was ugly.” and Sukuna acted offended.

You pretended to think about something, “We walked around the museum and saw the exhibitions.”

He leaned in closer, your faces inches apart. “Did you have a good time with him?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Yes… I did.”

“Did he kissed you?” Sukuna asked, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone as he took his book and sat next to you on the floor, your shoulders brushing. As you glanced up at him, a playful smile danced on your lips.

“We might have kissed,” you said softly, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He looked around, confirming that you were indeed alone in the secluded corner of the library. Turning back to you, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Did it go something like this?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Before you could respond, Sukuna leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, capturing you in a gentle kiss. Your initial surprise melted away, and you began to giggle against his mouth, a sound that made his heart swell with warmth.

Your laughter was infectious, and he pulled back slightly, smiling down at you. You’re adorable when you laugh,” he said, his voice full of affection.

You blushed, looking down at both your hands resting on the floor. Sukuna felt a surge of tenderness, and without thinking, he reached out, his fingers moving towards yours. You noticed his hand and with a shy smile you locked your fingers with his.

You sat like that for a while, books forgotten. The simple act of holding hands felt intimate, more meaningful than any words could convey. Your head moved slightly, leaning towards him, and Sukuna felt a wave of contentment wash over him.

He squeezed your hand gently, and you responded in kind, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. You resumed reading, but the atmosphere between you had shifted. The air was charged with a quiet, unspoken connection that bound you together more strongly than before.

Every now and then, you would glance up at him, and he would catch your eye, both of you sharing a secret smile. The world outside the little corner of the library seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of warmth and affection.

Sukuna couldn’t help but steal glances at you, marveling at how the light played on your features. You looked so serene, so focused on your book, and yet, he knew you were aware of his every movement. Your presence was soothing, grounding him in a way he had never experienced before.

As you continued to read, Sukuna felt your head rest gently on his shoulder. He turned slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. You sighed contentedly, and he felt a deep sense of peace settle over him.

Gojo made his way to the infirmary. The bruises and cuts from his fight with Sukuna were throbbing, and he needed to clean himself up, again. He entered the quiet, sterile room, expecting to be alone, but was surprised to find Mei Mei already there, looking for ibuprofen for her headache.

She glanced up as he entered, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his battered face. “Gojo, you look like hell! What happened?,” she asked grabbing some gauze and antiseptic. “Come here, let me help.”

He hesitated for a moment but then sat down on one of the beds. He winced as she dabbed a cotton ball soaked in alcohol on a particularly nasty cut on his cheek. “Easy,” he muttered, hissing in pain.

“Hold still,” she chided, though there was a softness in her tone. “What happened to you?”

“Sukuna” Gojo replied vaguely, his jaw clenched. “We had a… what we call disagreement.”

MeiMei eyes widened, she continued to clean his wounds, her touch surprisingly gentle. “Was it over a girl?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I wish it was that simple,” he said. “No…this is… another matter.”

She arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “I don’t understand. Why would you idiots fight then?”

He looked at her for a moment, debating whether to divulge the truth. He needed someone to talk to. He knew she wasn’t the best person to go to, he knows how she feels about Sukuna. He knows that she is in love with his best friend. That she has been on the chase for him— but he needed to vent, he needed to—

“We made a bet… a hundred bucks to hook up with a girl. And I… I drank to much that night and I told Yuuji about it. And fuck…he beat the fuck out of me, you know?”

Mei Mei’s eyes widened, and she paused in her ministrations. “Did… did he won?” she asked almost incredulously.

“No.” Gojo said, “He caught feelings.” He said with a bitter smile. “He has genuinely fallen for her.”

For a moment, Mei Mei was silent, processing this new information. A myriad of emotions flashed across her face—shock, curiosity, and something else, something hopeful. She carefully hid that last emotion, focusing instead on the task at hand. “Well,” she said, her voice measured, “It sounds like he’s in quite the predicament.”

“You could say that,” Gojo agreed, wincing again as she pressed a little too hard on one of his cuts.

Mei Mei continued to tend to his wounds, her mind racing. This revelation changed everything. If Sukuna had genuine feelings for you, it meant that his relationship with her was truly over. But it also meant that she knew something you didn’t.

She finished bandaging Gojo’s injuries and sat back, looking at him thoughtfully. “You should work things out with Sukuna,” she said finally. “Best friends shouldn’t let something like this come between them.”

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know.”

“Then start by talking to him,” Mei Mei suggested. “You two have been through too much together to let this ruin your friendship.”

Gojo nodded, appreciating her advice despite the circumstances. “Thanks, MeiMei.”

She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anytime, Gojo. And for what it’s worth, I hope things work out for both of you.”

As Gojo left the infirmary, Mei Mei’s mind whirled with possibilities. Sukuna’s newfound feelings didn’t necessarily spell the end for her ambitions. In fact, it might even give her an edge. She had always been good at playing the long game, and this situation was no different. If she could manipulate things just right, she might still have a chance to win Sukuna back.

She knows, she thinks, that Sukuna will get bored of you. And he will crawl back to her when you don’t give him what he needs…

Sex.

As Sukuna noticed the time, he realized it was almost time for practice. Reluctantly, he stood up and gently kissed your forehead, lingering for a moment to savor the connection between you. You looked up at him with a warm, content smile.

“I’ve got to head to practice,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I’ll be here when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes twinkling with happiness. “I’ll be here,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.

Sukuna started gathering his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Before he turned to leave, he paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Hey,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness, “how about we go on a date tomorrow night?”

Your face lit up with a radiant smile, and you nodded eagerly. “I’d love that, Sukuna.”

His heart swelled with affection as he reached out to squeeze your hand. “Great. I’ll plan something special,” he promised, his eyes shining with anticipation.

“Can’t wait,” you replied, your cheeks flushing with happiness.

As he started to walk away, he glanced back one more time, taking in the sight of you sitting there with that beautiful smile. “See you later,” he called, his voice filled with warmth.

“See you,” you replied, waving softly.

With his heart lighter than it had been in a long time, Sukuna made his way to practice, already counting down the hours until he could see you again.

By the time practice rolled around, he felt drained but knew he had to push through. As he entered the locker room, he noticed Gojo already there, lacing up his shoes. The air was thick with tension; they hadn't spoken since their fight.

Gojo looked up, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. The room was silent, the animosity between them palpable. Their teammates exchanged glances, noticing the thick tension.

"Alright, this has gone on long enough," Geto muttered to the rest of the team. "They need to sort this out."

In the middle of practice break, the team subtly maneuvered Gojo and Sukuna into the locker room under the guise of needing to discuss strategy. As soon as they were inside, Geto and the others shut the door and locked it from the outside.

"Hey! What the hell?" Gojo shouted, pounding on the door. "Let us out!"

"Not until you two work things out!" Geto's voice came muffled through the door, followed by laughter from the other teammates.

Sukuna and Gojo exchanged a glare. "This is ridiculous," Sukuna muttered.

"Open the fucking door you emo!” Gojo snapped back. Only to hear Geto chuckle on the other side of the door without a care in the world.

“He’s not going to listen to you, idiot.” Sukuna said angrily as he rolled his eyes.

“Well, at least Yuuji does.” Gojo threw at him, “But since we’re stuck here, let’s get this over with.”

"Fine by me, I beat the fuck out you once, I can do it twice.” Sukuna said, crossing his arms. "Why would you tell my brothers?”

Gojo hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes. "It slipped out, okay? I didn’t mean to. I had too much to drink.”

"Didn't mean to?" Sukuna's voice rose. "You think you can just accidentally blab about something like that and get away with it?"

"Look, I was drunk and stupid," Gojo said defensively. "And about the bet…We shouldn't have made that bet in the first place."

"Don’t you think I know that?” Sukuna echoed, his voice rising. “Do you know how of a dickhead I feel now?”

"You think I don't know that now?" Gojo snapped, the guilt gnawing at him. "Then why did you agree to it?" He pressed, his anger simmering. "Why did you let it go this far?"

"Because..." Sukuna struggled to find the words. "Because I didn't think it would go anywhere. It was just supposed to be harmless fun."

"Harmless fun?" Gojo's voice was full of disbelief. "Sukuna… do you even know your own body count this year?”

Sukuna whirled around, his eyes flashing. "I was just... lost. After what happened with MeiMei, I didn’t think I could care about anyone again."

Gojo’s expression softened slightly, but he remained firm. "Then why didn't you stop when things started to change? When you realized you actually liked her?"

Sukuna’s shoulders slumped. He was caught, cornered, and there was no easy way out. "I was scared. Scared she'd find out and hate me. Scared I'd lose her."

Gojo stared at him, the anger fading from his face. "Oh shit… you really do like her.”

"Yes…”Sukuna admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "I didn't plan for it, but I do. I like her a lot. And now I don’t know what to do.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, processing the revelation. "Wow. I didn't see that coming."

"Yeah…me neither," Sukuna said, his eyesight somewhere around the locker room. “She is a sweet girl Gojo… she doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know, after what happened with Mei Mei, I never thought you'd open up to anyone again."

Sukuna nodded, the memory of Mei Mei's betrayal still a raw wound. "Yeah, me neither.” He sighed “But she's different. She makes me feel...good.”

Gojo smiled, a genuine, warm smile. "I'm happy for you, man. Really. You deserve to be happy."

"Thanks," Sukuna said, his voice thick with emotion. "But if she finds out about the bet, she'll never speak to me again."

Gojo placed a hand on Sukuna's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. I'll help you. And I won't say anything. Your secret is safe with me."

Sukuna felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

"Anytime," Gojo replied. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added, "So… how did it go?”

"Shut up," Sukuna laughed, playfully shoving Gojo. "We kissed.”

"Did my little boy hold her hand?" Gojo teased, winking and Sukuna simply rolled his eyes.

Sukuna and Gojo walked side by side towards the practice field, their usual banter subdued. They had patched things up after their heated argument, but Gojo couldn't shake the gnawing guilt that weighed heavily on him.

The secret was now in Mei Mei’s hands. Her knowing the truth about the bet was like a ticking time bomb in his mind.

Sukuna, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed. He was still processing everything that had happened, but he was relieved to have his best friend back on his side. He glanced over at Gojo, offering a faint smile. "Ready to kick some ass today?"

Gojo forced a grin, nodding. "Yeah, always."

As they walked, Gojo's thoughts spiraled. He had to tell Sukuna the truth, but every time he opened his mouth to speak, the fear of ruining their fragile reconciliation stopped him. Sukuna didn't know that Mei Mei was aware of the bet, and Gojo dreaded what would happen if that truth came out.

They arrived at the practice field, and the rest of the team was already warming up. Gojo watched as Sukuna seamlessly joined the drills, his movements fluid and focused. The sight made the guilt twist tighter in Gojo's gut. He couldn't keep this from Sukuna forever, but he didn't know how to break it to him without causing more pain.

As practice went on, Gojo's performance was off. His mind kept drifting back to that night with Mei Mei, replaying the conversation over and over. He cursed himself for being so careless, for letting his guard down and betraying his friend's trust.

Sukuna noticed Gojo's distraction and jogged over during a break. "Hey, you okay? You seem off today."

Gojo swallowed hard, trying to mask his guilt. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind.”

Sukuna nodded, not pressing further. "Well, if you need to talk, you know I'm here."

"Thanks, man," Gojo replied, feeling the weight of Sukuna's trust pressing down on him even more.

As practice wrapped up and they began to head back to the locker room, Gojo felt a pang of guilt that he couldn't ignore. He needed to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. Watching Sukuna joke around with the other teammates, Gojo made a silent vow to himself. He had to figure out how to fix this, how to protect their friendship and Sukuna's budding relationship.

Leave a comment <3 what do you think will happen next? (Spoiler: It gets messier… and you could see in the next chapter their first official date 🩷)

[kyeomkuppie]

Rooftop.

Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader

Genre: I honestly don't know but let's just say crack and a pinch of angst

Warnings: Wonwoo thinks reader is about to commit suicide

Synopsis: You were just trying to get a better look at the sky, but someone misunderstood and tried to save you.

You valued your peace of mind and the best way (in your opinion) to clear your mind was to look at the stars. At the edge of a rooftop.

Yeah, not the smartest idea but who cares!

Technically, anyone was bound to see a random person standing at a rooftop, misunderstand the situation, then call for help. Something you didn't exactly take into account.

And bingo as you had guessed, not only did someone see you, someone was at the same rooftop thinking you were about to jump, and you being at the edge didn't exactly help either.

Out of nowhere, you felt yourself being pulled backwards. Your back was now against the chest of a random stranger, and to make matters worse, on top of him.

"Uh, excuse me?" You were baffled and you didn't really know how to explain without him thinking you were lying "Can you let me go, please?"

No answer.

Oh shit. Is he dead? I don't think I'm that heavy though. You were thinking of the endless possibilities of you being charged for involuntary manslaughter. Great.

You finally feel the person who you thought you murdered move. "Are you okay? Why did you pull me like that? You could've been hurt!" You turned around only to be left awestruck. At least he was handsome.

His eyebrows were furrowed and his breathing was heavy, yeah it isn't the time for flirting. "How could you treat your life like it's something to be toyed with! You can't simply choose to end it because things are getting rough." His tone was stern and angry— but wait.

What? Your mind short-circuited for second. He thought you were doing what!

"What about your loved ones and the people who would blame themselves for your death? At least think about all those variables before treating your life like-"

"Excuse me?! I was just standing like a normal person, looking at the damn sky. I wasn't toying with my life, I was enjoying it!" You were starting to get riled up as well, couldn't he at least wait to hear what you had to say about yourself— and wait, what does he even have to do with it?!

"You shouldn't lie about things like this! If you need help, say it."

There's was no convincing this man. "Listen here stranger, if I needed help I would in fact ask for it. But can't a person watch the fucking sky in peace." You huffed "Why are you even making a big deal out of it? It's not like we know each other."

You pushed his hands which were gripping you away. "At least try to understand, I mean it's not the smartest thing to do, to stand at the edge of a rooftop I mean, but I assure I wasn't trying to do anything you were thinking of."

You had an idea! Not the smartest either but good enough "Want to grab a meal?" If he didn't say yes, you'd bury yourself alive, but you wouldn't have to see him again. If he said yes, you'd resolve that misunderstanding and you could go your separate ways.

He suddenly realized that his body was so tense and his body was still on the ground.

You gulped as he proceeded to get up. His features became more clear. His face had a soft expression but his eyes were sharp, so was his jaw. Yeah, you were right, he was one handsome fellow.

He was weirded out by your spontaneous personality. One moment you were all angry, and the next you were asking him to grab dinner? Yeah, not normal.

"Fine. I'll pretend that I believe you, and we'll go grab dinner. But for the love of god go stargaze anywhere but at the edge. I had the ambulance ready." He scratched his neck.

"Okay Mr. Overdramatic." You laughed, it was a peculiar day, not the peaceful kind you usually preferred, but definitely a day to remember.

"Wonwoo."

"Hm?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"If we're going out for a meal, you might as well know my name." He shrugged.

Yeah, he had split personalities, you were sure of it.

"[name]." You extended your hand "It was nice meeting you here— wait what were you doing up here?!" Your eyes widenened.

"I was stargazing."

"Yeah, no shit. I'll pretend that I believe you." You mimicked him from earlier.

Inspired by that one scene in true beauty.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[vbecker10]

Talk to Me (Part 4) - Final

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You and Loki hold each other tightly in your bed and one of you finally says those three little words you are both so desperate to hear.

Warnings: This is almost as close to the characters having sex as I've ever gotten... it's definitely not quite there but it's close lol what else... um, he's super cold and you're hot so a bit of temperature difference is used... I'm not sure what would need a warning honestly but let me know if I missed anything

A/N: Thanks @soubi001 for letting me bounce ideas off of you like always! Thanks @jiyascepter for reading the absolute grammatical nightmare of my rough draft! Also... I changed a whole lot of it after I sent it to you so there's that 🫣

Hope everyone enjoyed this series (which was supposed to be a oneshot) 💚

"Can I ask you something?" you say a few minutes later in a low voice.

"You can ask me anything," he promises.

You look at Loki's hand resting under yours in the dim light of your room and hope your question isn't too much to ask of him.

"I was wondering if you could shift to your Jotun form," you finally force out the words and you can feel his breathing become less steady instantly. "You don't have to," you add quickly realizing you had been right, it was too much, too soon. You hoped he might be at least open to the idea because of your talk but how could you have be so nieve? One little talk wasn't going to undo years and years of negative thoughts and trauma.

"I just thought... I might feel safer... not that you don't already make me feel less anxious but I thought maybe if you were in your Jotun form, your ice powers could counter my pyrokinesis quicker when someth- if something happens," you try to explain your reasoning but you feel as if you are rambling. "If I have another nightmare... I don't want to hurt you."

He remains quiet and you can't guage his reaction without being able to see him. "I'm sorry, I should've have asked," you shake your head at your own stupidity.

"No, I'm sorry. I just needed a moment," he says softly as he tries to force away the thoughts that surfaced the moment you mentioned his Jotun form. "I have never been anyone's safe place before and I don't want to ruin this for you. I will do whatever it is you need me to do."

"You've always been my safe place, I guess I never actually told you that before... I just kinda thought you had figured that out since you're person I always go to when I'm scared," you tell him honestly. His arm relaxes again while you gently squeeze his hand, you can feel his breathing becoming slower. "I can't explain why but you make me feel calm and protected, I think that was why I was able to fall sleep with you in the library when we first started talking," you close your eyes knowing some things are easier to say without looking at him. "I've never felt this secure with anyone before, it's almost like I don't have to be afraid if you're with me."

He remains silent and you worry he doesn't believe you or worse, you've stepped over the boundary of your friendship and made him uncomfortable with your honesty. Loki closes his eyes as well, listening to your softly spoken words. All he ever wanted was to make you feel safe, the way you had made him feel whenever you would free him from a nightmare.

You feel Loki take a deep breath and slowly begin to feel his skin cool against your warm palm. You open your eyes to look at your hands and see his turn a deep blue under yours. The blue travels gradually up his wrist and you can't help but watch it move further up his arm as he shifts into his Jotun form without a word.

"This is the most beautiful shade of blue," you say quietly as your fingers lightly trace the ridges that spiral around the back of his hand. He sighs contently at your touch and you move your fingers steadily higher, following the ridges up his wrist and forearm. You roll over in his arms, tracing the ridges until you reach where his skin is covered by his sleeves.

You look at Loki and smile but he closes his eyes quickly, turning his head as if he still feels the urge to hide from you. You touch his cheek gently, noticing the thin ridges there as well. He opens his eyes in response to your light touch, his gaze locking on yours. "I've never seen anyone with eyes that were so..." you search for the right word.

"Demonic," he offers and you frown.

"Mesmerizing," you tell him. You love Loki's blue eyes, they were truly stunning but there was something about his true eyes. The intense ruby coloring almost seems to glow in the semi-darkness of your room.

He smiles in response but you can tell he is forcing it, you can always tell unlike some of the others on the team. You suddenly lean towards him, kissing his cheek lightly where your fingers had been.

He looks at you in shock, his lips parted slightly as he blinks slowly. You bite your lip, chewing on it nervously as your mind races to process your action. You feel a blush creep across your checks and neck as your brain catches up, quickly you try to roll away from him but his arm holds you in place.

"Y/N," he tries to keep his voice calm, his heart beating rapidly from the unexpected kiss. He places his cool hand on your warm cheek, wishing you would kiss him again. He shifts towards you, removing the little bit of space that had existed until his lips are only inches from yours. His gaze drops to your lips then he looks into your eyes.

I love you, his heart screams but he holds the words back. You had accepted him, every bit of him, even the parts he wasn't yet able to accept himself. His heart argues with his mind, tell her you love her, it pleads.

You look into Loki's fiery red eyes, anxiety coursing through your body. You can see he wants to say something but you are afraid he will remind you that he is only your friend and nothing more. The moment between the kiss and now has only been seconds but it feels like an eternity. Your eyes fall from his and you feel as if you need to be free from his arms so you can hide yourself away. Again, Loki's arm remains around your body, preventing you from your escape.

You lift your eyes to meet his again and he says, "You have always told me I can talk to you about anything."

You nod as you try to brace yourself to be devastated. He sighs, you see worry and uncertainty in his eyes, whatever he is preparing himself to tell you is not something small. You wait anxiously as the seconds tick by until he finally speaks.

"I need you to know how much I cherish you and our friendship," he says and your heart sinks as you fear he will end any thoughts you had that you could ever be together.

"I do not want to ruin the closeness we have, you mean so much more to me than I ever thought possible but... I do not want to simply remain your friend," he says and you look at him, stunned by his words.

His thumb strokes your cheek gently and he gathers all the courage he can to continue. "I want to be so much more than your friend. I want to call you mine, I want to be yours and I want everyone to know it. I want to take you on dates and sleep with my arms around you like this every night," he says and your heart races as his lips come slowly closer. He pauses, trying to study your reaction, his nervousness eating away at him.

"Loki, I-" you try to find the words you need, the words you had told yourself you would never have a chance to say.

He clenches his jaw and he looks down as you struggle to answer, his own thoughts telling him that he shouldn't have listened to his heart. You had a hard enough day and night without him throwing his feelings into the mix.

"Loki," you say again and he looks up, you smile nervously. "I want all of that, too," you finally force the words free. "I want to be yours, I always have."

His red eyes light up and the smile you fell in love with spreads across his lips at your admission. In an instant, he presses his lips to yours and you feel it in your whole body. You kiss him back, your fingers on the back of his neck while his hand moves to your lower back, holding you to him. He pulls back far too soon to look at you, his wide smile still present.

"I love you," you hear the words leave your lips and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. You are unsure how the words slipped free, maybe it was the feeling of his lips against yours but it was too soon to admit you had such deep feelings for him. He had only just told you he wanted to date you, you had skipped too far ahead, you scold yourself.

He chuckles and removes your hand from your mouth. "I love you, too," he says, his heart finally feeling free.

"Do you mean it?" you ask in disbelief. "Please, don't say it if you don't mean it."

"Y/N, I have never and will never lie to you. I have loved you for months," he says honestly. He feels a wave of relief flood through him as he finally tells you what he had kept hidden. "I don't know when it happened," he smiles with a slight shrug. "When I look back now, I feel as if I have always loved you."

You can't stop the blush that creeps up your neck, filling you with warmth. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected to hear him say these words. You smile, "I know the exact moment I realized I was in love with you."

His icy fingers running up and down the exposed skin on your arm, causing you to shiver a bit and shift closer to him. "Tell me," he urges gently.

You giggle, remembering that afternoon three months ago as you do so often. "We were in the park, having lunch and it started pouring out of absolutely no where. I didn't have a jacket or even a sweater to hide under. We abandoned our food on the bench and you took my hand, leading me to the nearest place where we could find any shelter."

Loki chuckles as the memory of the day flashes into his mind, you weren't the only one who vividly remembered that afternoon. "The only dry place was the small overhang of the maintenance shed," he says as he pictures the spot.

You nod, "There was barely enough room for one of us under there. My back was against the wall of the building and you stood facing me, your back still getting rained on. You stayed so close to me, sheltering me from the worst of it. Your hair was dripping and your dress shirt was soaked through but you didn't seem to notice, you still stood between me and the storm. You were so protective of me, making sure I was okay."

The storm has raged for only ten minutes but the intensity was what caught everyone off guard. The wind picked up furiously as lightning struck the tall buildings near the park. Some people had speculated that the storm had been called by Thor since it wasn't in the weather forecast for the day but he denied it.

Loki smirks, "My first priority was of course your safety and making sure you were clear of the storm but there was another, less nobel reason I stayed so close to you."

"There was?" you ask, feeling a blush of warmth rising up your neck again. His cool fingers gently brush along your warm skin as he nods in response to your question.

In a low voice he says, "You were utterly drenched, your blouse sticking tightly to you. I can still picture how the dark gray fabric clung to your curves so perfectly. I spent our time waiting for the storm to pass fighting an overwhelming urge to touch you, to kiss you. If I'm being completely honest, I wanted to push you against the wall of that building and kiss you until the storm died down, perhaps not even stopping then."

"You should have," you tell him quickly. You had no idea that was what he was thinking while you waited together, you wish you had. You smile then add, "I just need to say this... you looked really sexy looming over me like that and now I guess it's cause that's what you were thinking about."

He runs his thumb lightly across your bottom lip and says, "I think we should start making up for lost time." You nod excitedly and he presses his lips to yours fiercely.

Loki rolls over quickly so you are on your back, his lips never leaving yours as he positions himself on top of you. One of your hands moves to his lower back, holding him firmly to your body and the fingers on your other hand tangle in his long black hair. You feel the temperature of his lips changing, his skin becoming warmer and you break away from the kiss.

Loki looks down at you, his blue eyes quickly filling with concern. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

You touch the pale skin on his cheek lightly and smile, "No."

"Are you sure?" he asks, fear quickly building in him from how suddenly you pulled away.

"Don't look so worried. I felt you shift and I wanted to tell you something," you try to calm him.

"What's that darling?" he tries to push away his worry.

"I need you to know that I don't care where you are from, Jotunheim or Asgard. It doesn't matter to me, it doesn't change how I feel about you. You are still exactly who you were before you let me see beyond your illusion. I understand why you would be more comfortable in your Asgardian form but I hope you can learn to feel just as comfortable without your illusion one day," you watch his fears fade away gradually. "I love you, every bit of you whether you are Jotun or Asgardian," you tell him and he smiles.

"Plus... I used to work with the X-Men, so you're not even close to being the first blue person I've ever met," you add, hoping to make him laugh a little since he seemed so stressed moments ago. "A surprising number of mutants are blue, I'm not sure if you knew that. But of all the blue people I know, you are by far my favorite. And the best looking, might I add."

He lets out a loud laugh, his forehead resting on the bed next to your shoulder. "I'm serious, you are really hot when you're blue. I mean you're also really hot when you're not, too," you giggle at the feeling of Loki shaking from laughter while he is on top of you.

After he calms his laughter, he shakes his head and looks at you, "What am I going to do with you?"

You smile up at him and shrug innocently. "Love me?" you suggest.

"I already do," he says. "Very," he kisses your cheek, "much," he kisses your other cheek.

"You could keep kissing me?" you ask with another hopeful suggestion.

He smirks then kisses your lips softly, then your nose causing you to giggle more then your forehead lightly. He looks into your eyes as they slowly shift to be ruby red again. You reach up and cup his cheek as his skin cools once more. "Is this okay?" he asks as he continues to slowly let his illusion fade away.

"Its perfect," you answer, the same as you had when he first held you. "You're perfect."

His skin loses its warmth as the blue spreads up his neck to his face and down to his arms. You move your hand to the back of his neck and pull him towards you, your lips meeting his roughly. He presses you into the mattress, his hips grind down against yours, causing you to moan quietly.

Loki's lips leave yours and you let out a small whine in protest making him chuckle. "I'm not nearly finished with you my love, don't you worry," he assures you. He kisses your neck, just below your ear and you feel a shiver run down your body as his icy lips travel down your warm skin.

"Loki," you breathe out his name when his lips reach your collarbone.

Loki pulls his lips away from you to look over at your nightstand, your eyes follow his gaze. You giggle when he looks back at you, "A little mood lighting?" he asks, his smirk returning.

You blush and shrug, realizing you had lit the three small candles you keep near your bed for practice.

"Let's make sure you don't set anything else on fire tonight, hmm?" he says gently.

"I can't make any promises," you tell him in a joking manner.

His fingers move to your cheek and you feel a chill as he calls his ice powers forward. He trails his icy fingers slowly down your cheek to your neck and where he had left off on your collarbone. You shiver at the sensation, closing your eyes as you arch into his touch.

"No more fires," he says slowly, the breath from each word feels like ice against the warm skin on your neck.

You nod and he smiles, "Good girl." You bite your lip, blushing at the small bit of praise and Loki immediately notices. "Hmm, I will need to remember that for later," he says with a raised eyebrow.

You wave your hand gently towards the candles, extinguishing the flames then place your warm hand on his cheek. Pulling him towards you again, you kiss him fiercely, your heated lips meeting his cool lips. Loki's tongue slips between your teeth and your hands move down his back to the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tighter as his hips press you firmly into the mattress.

Loki sits up, his eyes still focused on yours as he pulls his shirt off over his head. Before he can lower himself onto you again, your eyes roam up and down his body and you whisper, "Wow."

He laughs and asks, "Is that a good wow or bad?"

You smile, "Very, very good." Then without thinking you add, "I didn't think it was possible but you are even hotter than I had imagined."

He tilts his head and smirks, "My dear, have you pictured me without my clothes on before?" You blush easily again and say nothing. He leans back down, his lips barely in an inch from yours and says, "Talk to me, I want to hear what you imagined."

You keep eye contact and say, "Sometimes when I can't sleep I think about being with you in my bed..." you pause.

"Is that all?" he asks, knowing there is more you haven't told him.

"No," you try not to giggle.

"Tell me all of it," he says, his fingers running an icy path down your arm.

"I also think about us being in your bed-" you say as Loki's hips move against yours. He lifts them slowly and you continue, "and in my shower-" again he moves his hips as you talk and you can feel how hard he is. "I want you on your couch-" you keep listing locations and he kisses your neck, biting it lightly. "And in my office..." your voice trails off when his lips move back to yours.

You cling to his back, feeling the ridges that spiral up and down his skin. You pull away from Loki's lips and trail your warm fingers deliberately down two long ridges. "How far down to these go? Are they... everywhere?"

He smirks, "You're about to find out."

You open your eyes slowly the next morning and smile when you realize Loki is still with you. He is resting on his back while you lay on his bare chest, his arms tightly around you. Your fingers slowly trace the ridges that run across his body and he chuckles when you accidentally tickle him.

"Good morning my love," he says in a sleepy voice.

You sit up and kiss his cheek, his red eyes meeting yours before you lay your head back on his chest. "I was worried last night was just an absolutely perfect dream," you say softly.

His fingers run gently up and down your back. "It was very real," he assures you. "You're mine and I am yours," he says and your body fills with warmth.

You move so you can kiss his lips softly and remind him, "I love you."

He holds the back of your neck gently and brings your lips back to his so he can kiss you longer. He smiles and says, "Tell me that again."

You giggle, "I love you."

He kisses your cheek as he sits up, "Tell me again."

"I love you, Loki," you say.

He rolls you onto your back and kisses your neck, just below your ear then he moves slowly down. "Again," he says when he pauses.

You look up at him, touching his cheek gently, "I love you."

"I will never tire of hearing those words leave your soft lips," he says from above you. "I love you, Y/N," you smile just before he presses his lips to yours once more.

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